The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1875-08-21
PAUL SMITHS WAIF.

Paul Smith was poor old man, He had
a back room IN the top OF noisy lodging
house. where he slept nights and munched
his meals Of bread and cheese-or Bologna
sausage when he could afford it-and from
whence he crept, as harmless and unnotced
as ny, down the corner Of dingy street
to the little music shop Of Carl Brettman, a
German settler
There he tinkered all day ON broken VIC
Inns and other musical Instruments never
absenting himself for n moment save on
Saturday afternoons, when he went to The
house OF small tradesman 10 teach the piano
TO three Or four very stupid girls. Sundays
he curled up in his den, and amused himself,
nobody knew how, until Monday morning.
There are a few certainties. lie never went
to church, but he picked ragged children
from the pavement when they fell near him,
and gave them halfpennies when he had any
shared his dinner often with NANCY, dirty
cur, who acted rs a sort of escape.valve for
the illtcmpcr Of half the men and women in
the street, ard he reused Pat Ryan from his
midnight snooze in the gutter many a cold
night, and literally carried him home to
Norah and the children.
AS TO his honesty, u neighbor remarked,
IF he found five shilings in the street. he'd
wear out ten sbllings worth of strength and
SnOclcathtr 10 ma The owner
One cold night Paul was returning from
his work. with q loaf Of bread under one arm
and IA violin under the other, when at the
street door he stumbled and nearly fell over
small object crouched on the step.
BLESS us what's this? cried Paul striving
TO gain his equilibrium.
"Only me- SIR and the small object stood
up, and became very pale, thin and ragged
little girl.
"Are you hurt, little gir?"
mo, SIR
"What are you doing here in the cold"
"Nothing'
"Why don't you go home?"
Il amt got any"
Dear me! Where's your mother"
I'm heaven
Al this Paul was dumbfounded, and seeing
that great tears were stealing down the child's
wan face, he thrust the violin under the arm
which held the bread, and putting the other
around the tiny figure, he said:
"Oh I've got home-a real jolly place
Come up and sCe!'
And this is the way old Paul came TO have
neat little hoHsekeeper, and 10 be buying
gowns and shoes out OF his poor salary.
The winter Of 1856 came IN like lion, as
many a poor wretch well remembers, ana
with the first blast came Paurs enemy. lie
turned one night sad face from his warm
corner IN Bretman's shop among the violins
aud hObbled up the cold street, feeling the
approach of he old rheumatic pains, ant
wondering what would become of his pool
little Camilla.
His excitement carried him up TO hi!
last fight Of stairs, and hearing Camilla:
voice, lac paused TO rest and to listen. She
was singing in that sweet and expressive
manner which made her voice seem TO hin
the sweetest and purest he had ever heard
VI the end OF the stanza she took breath, anc
another voice said, "Child, you astonish me
Either am poor judge of music or elsC
your voice Is the finest / ever heard. You arr
right in preierring ii to anything else
An electric thrill shot through old Paul:
frame and quickered his blood to a rapidly
that quite carried away his rheumatic pains
and IN twinkling he was Up the stairs and
in his little attic.
He was terrified at the sound of a mans
voice, but the sight Of handsome and pol
ished gentleman, with diamond studs IN his
snowy linen, heavy ring upon his dainty
white hanc, unquestionable broadclOth upon