Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1877-05-30
For the Vermont Watchmi
The Little Beggar Girl.
ny MRS. IRA A. EASTMAN.

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"Please, ma'am, penny for a roll"
The speaker advanced timdly and ex-
tended long, thin hand towards young
girl who was passing; and stopping suddenly,
with plying look at the small, needy speci-
men of humanity before her, she drew her
purse from her pocket, and taking therefrom
a shining silver quarter, dropped it into the
extended palm, and the child, after hasty
glance at the money, to test its genuneness,
gave choking cry of joy and sprang away
as fast as the little feet would carry her.
Let us follow her and learn, If possible, the
cause of the worn and pallid little face
which had been so pitifully upturned towards
the passers-by.
1t was cold, raw day in December A
light snow had fallen and the pavements
were white with the feathery flakes, but the
child was barefooted and the little purple feet
sank without noise into its cold bed. It was
fast growing dark and the street lamps were
being lighted as she entered bake shop
and bought loaf of bread, and as it was
reached over the counter she turned quickly
away. Once more she paused, and entering
a grocery store, purchased an apple. Hug
ging her purchases tightly as though she
feared to lose them, she turned from the
light and warmth of the shop out into the
cold and darkness beyond. Not star was
to be seen, and the earth was enveloped in
mantle of midnight blackness as she
turned from the crowded streets into more
unfrequented thoroughfare. A crowd of
drunken men arrested her steps, and quickly
hiding in )or-way she waited until they
were past; then leaving her hiding place,
with silent, rapid steps, she sped on her way
the street lamps, like a row of Pickering
stars, guiding her on. Tired and breathess,
she entered the one small attic room in the
crowded tenement house which she called
home The rest of the building was swarm
ing with a crowd of human beings, wretched
and degraded to a degree fearful to behold.
Loud laughter and coarse songs, inter
mingled with drunken oaths, greeted her
ears as she passed the different doors upon
the landings, and drawing her tattered shawl
closer around her she noiselessly climbed
the rickety stairs and entered the room. Not
a ray of light entered through the single
window whose broken panes were stuffed
with straw. She groped her way to one
corner of the room, where, without even
pile of straw to relieve the hardness of the
board floor, her mother lay. A single rag
ged quilt covered the thin form, and al
though the room was bitterly cold, there
was no fire, and no fuel to make one The
little girl kneeled upon the floor and wills
pered, Mother" There was no reply, and
instinctively she laid her hand upon her
brow. 1t was cold--so cold that it struck
chill to her very heart She shivered with
a strange, half-defned dread, which she tried
in vain to throw off, and in louder tone
she whispered again, " Mother" There was
no sound, save the echo of her own voice
She sprang to her feet and with a bound
cleared the room and flew two steps at a
time, down the stairs. As soon as possible
ohe bdlheu IHe sue Vi pONCtman ana
begged him to go with her. lie was a kind
and humane man. and although in her eager
ness and terror her story was so discon-
nected that he could make nothing of it, he
went with her at once
1t was indeed scene of desolation, suf-
fering and death. Not a single article of
furniture in the rooms nothing but the
body of the poor woman, stretched upon the
damp, cold floor, the features all drawn and
distorted by the death agony. 1t was no
place for the child, surely, and taking her
gently by the hand he led her away to his
own home and placed her under the care of
his wife, gentle, sad-faced woman, who wei.
coined the little stranger with all mothers
kindness and care. Two sweet buds had
once filled their home with fragrance and
joy, but Jesus had called them to himself,
and the mothers face had grown sad as she
missed their childish prattle and little, win
some ways, and counted their growing years
one had been sent by gracious Father to fill,
as well as might be, the place left vacant
when he took her own little ones to himself.
This, my dear readers, is a true story of
want and suffering. This little girl found
pleasant home with the kind people who
had befriended her, and she repaid their
kindness and love with all daughters de-
yotion and respect
Are there not many who need helping
hand extended to them Are there not
some to whom you can give aid ? The SER
vice may seem a trifling one to you, but
may be of untold benefit to them. Win
you not look around you and see if you can
not do some little thing to aid such needy
ones?