The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1875-09-10

about him all the samc,"
"Whcre docs he live ?" asked the son, dis
regarding the latter part of his fathers an
swer
"Dont know"
The young man drew back with an air of
disappointment, and after a moment of hcsi-
taton, returned thoughtfully to his desk.
Meanwhile William Devorell plodded de-
jected through the crowded streets towards
his poor habitation. Bending over couch
upon which lay young girl in fitful slum-
Der, he gazed sadly in the pallid face. Age
and misfortune are very Napoleons for con-
quering fortitude, and tear that he could
not reprcss started from his eye and fell up
on the check of the sleeper. Awakened
with frightened start, the girl arose upon
her elbow and exclaimed:
"Father home at this hour, and crying
What has happenedW
"The worst that could have happened to
us, Evelyn. I have lost my place.-Great
God what will become of us now?"
The daughters lips quivered, but she an
swered brightly:
"Hope for the best, my father. You can
easily get another situation"
"What are these good for?" he cried, ex-
tending his withered hands. "Who would
hire them? None, none; we must perish"
Then the woman, weak, sick, perhaps
hopeless herself, drew the aged head upon
her breast, and, By the power of her gentle
sympathy, comforted him and renewed the
hope in his heart.
"If it were only myself" he muttered, 81
should not care; but how will you be able to
bear it? Well, perhaps this is our darkest
hour and daylight may be near" With
these words he put on his ragged cap again
and went out upon his search for work.
a very natural law of trade is that if n
thing is good for nothing it can neither be
sold or let to hire, hence William Deyerell,
being nearly unfit for labor, could not get
it to do. Meantime their little money had
long since been exhausted, and tho father
and child were in actual want.
One morning, few days after his dis
charge, William Deverell sat in his room,
with his face buried in his hands, in the
depths of despair. The apartment had been
stripped Of all its poor furniture, except the
bed, to supply them with food, and there was
no fire upon the hearth, although the day
was bitter cold
The sick girl lay motionless with closed
eyes, and one looking into her wasted fea-
| turoc youl1 bovo tho,torh+ that tbo r,raot bnro-
after had already set its stamp upon them.
But the low moan that escaped her lips told
that life and suffering abode with her yet.
At the sound, the old man arose and approach
ed the bedside.
His daughter looked at him and smiled,
oh such a weak, pitiful smile, and taking
one of his hands in her own said
"Never mind, dear, the worst has come and
gone, and it will soon be all over and then,
oh my father, what shall harm lis there ?"
The wrcched man turned his eyes away
from her pointed finger, as if he dared not
understand her meaning, and gazed wildly
around the room. An old violin, too worth
less to sell, still hung against the wall, and
as his eye rested upon it, it frightened a
little with renewed hope. "No, mol" he cried
"you shall not leave me yet! See! | can
play little, and this will support us until |
can do better" And, putting the instrument
under his arm, he left the room.
True to his kindly intentions, Henry
Archer the moral opposite of his grasping
father, had excited himself to discover the
whereabouts of the discharged porter. But
to search for one as poor and unknown as he
among the byways of this great city is a task
that's next to hopeless and it was only by
accident that he came upon him at last,
with his white head bowed over his violin,
playing for charity from the passers-by.
Shocked at his sad appearance, the gener'
Gus young man made his way towards him
with the intention of Offering him instant
aid but before he could reach him through
the jostling crowd, the old man had replaced
his ragged cap, and was moving slowly
away. Following him as rapdlyas he could
he saw him enter into an old building in {
narrow side street, and without moments
hesitation fastened up the rickety stairs
after him. His knock brought no response
but 4 loud cry of distress from within, Act
ing on the impulse of the moment, he push
ed open the door and entered.
Deyerell was kneeling over the motiOnles
body of his child, with an expression upol
his aged features too terribly to describe
, Aroused from his stupor by theyoung mans
step, he started up with the fury of wilc
animal whose young has been destroyed
crying; "You here! then look at you
heartless fathers work and take him word o
what you have seen. Oh she is dead, anC
, by the Heaven above US, starved to death
, Then hugging both her thin hands to hi
breast, he rocked himself to and fro in 81
I lcnce.
| With tears Of sympathy in his eyes, an
feeling no shame for them either, Henr.
Archer knelt by his side and gazed carnestl
r at the rigid white face lying upOnthe pillow
e suddenly he sprang to his feet exclaiming
t Courage, sir she is not dead, she has onl
r tainted, See her lip trembles."
lie was right, In Il moment more, with
8 painful sigh, she opened her eyes and smi
! ed reassuringly at her father. And h
though knowing that she had been free frol
:. the troubles of her poor life for Il bette
Il hailed her return to it with joy too deep fC
: words"
"Now, sir" said Henry, cheerfully "l(
= me tell you why am here, l have bee
n searching for you for weeks, because fearC
pardon me for saying it-that you migl
l. have hard time in getting along, and
l. hoped to be of service to you. Let me b,
a gin by-by"-he hesitated, and a blu'
e spread over his honest young iaco-"by SUI
d plyinr your necessities until such a time