The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1878-08-03
CAMILLA.

aul clulIii was pour Olu man. lie
had 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 unnoticed as
fly, down to the corner of the dingy
street, to the little music shop of Carl
Bermann, a music setter somewhere in
Soho.
There he tinkered all day on broken
violins and other instruments, never alb
senting himself for moment, save on
Saturday afternoons, when he went to
the house of a small tradesman, to 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 few certainties; he never
went to church but he picked ragged
children from the pavement when they
fell near him, and gave them half pen
MES when he had any; shared his din
ner often with NANCY, dirty cur, who
acted as sort of escape valve for the
ill-temper of half the men and women
in the street; and he reused Pat Ryan
from his midnight snooze in the gutter,
and literally carried him home to
Norah and the children.
AS for honesty, as a neighbor re-
marked, eff he found five shillings in
the streets, he'd wear out ten shillings
worth of strength and shoe-leather to
find the owner"
One cold, dark night, Paul was re-
turning from his work, with loaf of
bread under one arm and violin under
the other, and nearly fell over a small
object crouched on the step.
"Bless us! what's this?" cried Paul,
striving to gain his equilibrium.
"Only me, sirr' and the small object
stood up, and became very pale, thin
and ragged child.
care you hurt, little girl?'
"No, sir"
What are you doing here in the
coldP'
Nothing"
Il amt got any"
dear me! Where's your mother?"
"In heavenr'
At 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 had
held the bread, and. putting the other
around the tiny figure, he said: "Oh,
I've got home, real jolly place!
Come up and see."
And this is the way old Paul came to
have a neat little housekeeper, and to
be buying calico gowns and shoes out
of his poor salary.
People wondered at the sight of this
bent old man, hitherto alone and I'M
cared for, now walking daily to his
work with his hand upon the shoulder
of the odd yet pretty-faced girl, look
ing at her with honest pride brighten
ing his eyes, and laughing as loud as
she whenever the joke came in. But
old Paul looked unconcerned, evaded
the questions of the curious, and learned
to love nothing in this world better
than the little waif, Camilla.
There were many, many days when
rheumatism drew Paul up by the fire
in the old back attic, and drew the very
last penny out of the dilapidated purse;
but brave little Camilla, never forget
ting how near death she had been on
that bitter night at their meeting, al
ways found word to ward off hunger,
and courage to keep them both bright
until help came.
The winter of 1856 came in like a
lion, as many poor wretch well re.
members, and with the blast came
Paurs enemy. He turned, one night
sad face from his warm corner in
Bermann's shop among the violins, and
hobbled up the cold street, feeling the
approach of the old rheumatic pains