The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1876-08-26

lone, lonely nights, she recalied tnat
Iaotherly face which, even in its saddest
Iaood, always looked lovingly on hers,
ind remembered how from those dear lips
had some strange words about beautiful
country, where good children went after
death, and, where, somehow, in some
vague way, she had conviction that her
parent now awaited her.
She had shadowdy idea also, that it
was there the angels lived, and that her
mother now was one, though none the less
ber mother and sometimes, in dreams,
abe saw that remembered face, radient
with light, smiling on her and OH how
blest she was. But these things were rare,
aud seemed to grow rarer. She never now
heard Oh heaven or angels or the Good
Shepard. She never saw any one kneel IN
prayer. But her ears, day and night, were
filed with curses, and with words Of which
she knew not the meaning, except that it
was something horrible, This life was fast
banumbing her, she felt that but she was
too young To know why, and 30 the sadness
and loneliness and despair at her heart in
creased and lie grew more blank, with
only cold and hunger left, hunger and
cold
"Hillo, there come be moving"
She looked up and recognized a watch
man, who, in shaggy overcoat, and with
badge on hat, was going to his post. The
child had learned already to dread the Law
and its officers; for they had always had
harsh words for her and starting, she hur-
riedly moved away.
81 say, said the watchman, raising his
voice that she might hear, ''don't let me
catch you here again tonight, or it'll be
worse for you"
His harsh voice quickened her pace to
run, she II ID onward through the tempest,
and another there, till finally, glancing
over her shoulder, and not seeing him, she
ventured to slscken her speed. She found
that she had left the business portion Of
the city, and was now in a street occupied
entirely by dwellings The windows of
the houses were all closed tightly, how
ever, and not q person abroad; everything
looked inexpressibly lonely and desolate.
The child thought Of her cold cellar for
moment, almost with relief. But the rec
collection of the terrible punishment she
had received on the last occasion she re-
turned empty -hafded, nerved her to con-
tinue out in the faint hope that she might
yet meet some charitable person. At the
worst, she thought it was better walking
about even in the storm, than returning
to the angry crone, especially if now and
then she could only come across an open
window or two, and see the reflection of
the fire shining ruddily inside.
One appeared i'll view even now. 1t was
there, half block ahead, where the light
streamed quite across the street, IN two
broad, warm, cheerful steps from the par
lor windows. She hurried her pace, and
soon stood at the house. The sleet was
rafting against the panes, and coating the
brick front with ice the wind roared
madly as it twisted and bent the orna-
mental trees on the pavement; all without
was cold, wet, forbidding. AL did Kal
$ay Ne, fur that paie, sfnvering orphan
girl forgot her hunger, forgot the tempest,
when she saw that genial light and heard
the merry, childish laughter within. 1t
was house to which some young cousin
had come, from another city, to spend
fortnight with the httls boy who belonged
there; and every evening for week past
they had been having such grand times, as
they would every evening for a week to
come. OH how that houseless one with
Nul tiNltu lNbSt llllc ontSs IlOW SIlc
stood on tiptoe to try and peep within.
Several times she went away, dreading
lest some person should come out and de-
tect her, so deep had the sense Of degrade
ton sunk into her soul, that il almost
seemed wrong to be watching rich and re-
spectacle people in this way, stealing their
crumbs of tre-light and merriment, and
drinking the overflow of their exuberant
happiness. But she returned as often.
The house had a spell for her she could
not resist. 1t appeared to her as if she
had, somehow, right to share in its com
forts and JOY; as if she was being defraud-
ed by this exclusion from it; or, at worst,
as if there was gross injustice that she
should be shivering hungrily outside,
while within there was such a superfuity
of all things. 1t made her happy also, for
the moment, when she came in sight again
of that bright, warm window, and heard
the merry laughter of little boys and girls,
mixed occasionally with the sweet tones of
woman and the full, hearty voice Of man
hood. Once or twice the sound Of the lat
ter seemed familiar to her. Was it the
voice that had 80 cruelty refused her two
hours ago! Oh, no. it could not be that;
it was Only strange coincidence; no such
cold and callous heart could come from
laughter like this.
This time she was driven away, her fears
of detection nearly proved true, for col
ored servant coming to close the shutters,
caught glimpse Of her running of. After
a while, however, she returned again, and
although all was now dark and desolate,
she could as little leave an before; nay
the dread of being discovered being now
removed, she felt a certain pleasure in her
security that almost compensated for the
absence Of the lighted windows and the
gay merriment. She sat down on the
steps, at f1rst with a little nervousness;
but this gradually wore of, and ascending
step By step at successive intervals, at last
she nestled close to the very door. 1t was
strange, but sensation Of warmth seemed
still to 90 out from the house and fold the
child in its arms, till, as she pressed
against the door, she began to feel as she
used to in the old, dear days when folded
to her mothers bosom.
The night advanced. In their little
beds, lovingly encircling each other with
their arms, slumhered the children with
in; and in the next chamber lay fair,
sweet lady, and by her side her sleeping
lord. All had she known all his history,
would she lie there 90 peacefully Strange
that no day dreams disturbed his rest.
Had he forgotten the tale Of pretended
love, the insidious arguments, and the
other treacherous means, which he had
employed to win the trust Of one who, if
living, had a prior right, in the eye Of
God, to that place at his side 4 Did the
grave never open, that his victim might
come and stand @t the foot Of his bed,
gaze on him with sad, reproachful eyes,
till his hair bristled with horror and his
blood froze' Was no sePulchral voice
heard, at dread midnight, asking where
was his first born. Oh, while society for
gives the traitor, and condemns tho be-
trayed unhesrd, men will sleep unbroken
.I..nnha.. thounh Tia cold craven hnld