Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-05-14
Weary Tim.

through dark alley of our great me,
tropolis. Ny duties over for the day,
IL fastened to be rid of the streets ;
and as | hurried on, with eager foot.
the sweet sound of a child voice, sing
ing. foated out to me from an open
window.
There is rest for the weary, -
crooned the little voice Then fol.
lowed other words. but ever the same
refrain pathaeie on youn; lips.
And | turned side, if happy / might
cheer the tired little one who sang OF
rest. Guided BY the voice, | climed
dark, narrow stair; then | found
myself in a dngy little room, and,
crouched on his hands and knees in a
trundle bed, in the corner, was Tim.
I suppose he might have lived in
this world dozen years or so, vet
! here were no round outlines Of the boy
face, but hollow cheeks, and shadows
about the eyes, touched in by the
hand Of pain. The furnishing of the
room was scant enough. Two crazy
chairs, an old sea chest, rickety ia
bic drawn up close to the boy, on
which was arranged his food for the
| day Ga cup Of milkless tea and piece
of dry bread), one or two cracked
specimens of crockery in a rack, MI
mute teapot, a kettle with broken
spout, and the wretched bed on which
! Tim crouched. The narrow slip Of
window was begrimed with filth, but
| by dint Of much craning Of the neck.
it was just possible through the top
pane to gain a glimpse of Gods sky,
Poor Tim /! little wonder he was wea-
!ry!
| LEFT all alone, my boy?"
eyes, sir. Brother Jim, ne sweeps
+! a crossin'. 4 kind laay gives little
Aggie her dinner. and keeps her at
school all day; and mother hawks
small wares, But eYenin' brings em
ali home, and mother lights the fire,
and sets the tea to draw, and it's lively
like then"
do [ weary sometimes? well, sir,
happen do, know and then. You
see [ get VERY tired alias sittin' on
my knees and elbows. and yet { with a
sad halt-sigh) | allus must. 1t hurts
so cruel to lie on my back, and wus
still when | rolls on my side. But
when I'm a my weariest think,
Well, there mast be somethin' good
even in the pain God lets be. That
stands to reason sir, don t it -
How long had he been thus? "0ne
two, three years. When quite a little
'un, sir. fell down cruel stone stair,
and arter that didn't grow right no
how. Still, though ] was but little
'un | could walk then, ana when |
were six years old I went to work
turnin' a bacca wheel. Too young to
work, sir, did you say? Oh no; a
baby could turn 'bacca wheel and
.I could earn my shillin to help moth
er. who needed it sorely for father
had died then. But each month |
kept a CROWN weaker and weaker, till
at last | couldn't draw my poor legs
arter me, and mother had to carry me to
my work of a moruin'. Then my back
grew that bad, | could hardly sit up to
turn the wheel and one mornin' [
fell off my seat, all Of heap like, on
to the floor and master, he says !:
Tim, you are not fit for work you
must not come again. And he paid
me a fortnight's wages, and bade a
man carry lue home. Oh ! when |
was first set down here | were that
Yexed cause I could no longer help
mother | thought I'd ha' cried my
heat out.
We'll, sir, when [ was took so bad
mother got an order, and | was sent to
ahe hospital for sick children. All !.
that were beautiful place :. Every
thiug so clean and pretty, and kind
doctors and nurses a-walkin' round
and trying to cheer up everybody
about.
Ladies used to come, too, and read
them beautiful words out OF the Testa-
meat about Christ havin compassion
on the sick and healin Of 'em How
somdeve-, though he healed other sick
children, he didn't heal me. Net but
that be was as sorry for me as for
them, bat he had different way of
shown his teeiin for me. | had not
been long in the hospital when the
doctors came one mofnln, to my bed
side. and ran long needles into my
legs all over 'em. DO you feel that,
my boy ? SAYS one. No, sir; feels
nothin'. Then the gray-haired one
shook his head and said in low tone
TO the others: Hopeless case back
been broken from infancy. They
thought as how | didn't understand
'em, but [ did; and when they were
all gone [ turned my face to the pillow
and cried alone a bit tnat no doctor
could set me on my legs again but one,
and he wouldn 't-least ways not yet
awhile. Then they wrote 'Incurable'
in large letters on the card, and stuck
it over my bed, and mother fetched
me home
Yes, sir: I was sorry to leave the
hospital. for everything was so clean
and comfortable, and the childred all
round in their little cots was company
ike. Well, yes. It's lonesome some
times but | can read large print, and