The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1881-06-16
Poor Jimmy.
BY OLIVE THORNE'

One morning 1 was walking down
c. Street, which at that hour was
full of finely-dressed ladies and bright
little children, when came upon so
woeful sight that stopped as though
was struck. A poor, little white
faced boy, with deformed back, no
taller than healthy child of five years
old, but looking much older in his
pinched and wan face. He was sitting
on the bare stones, his thin little legs
drawn up with cold, and basket, con-
tanning half n dozen miserable apples,
beside him. He made not the least eff
fort to attract the attention of the gay
passers; but his white little hands were
meekly clasped on his knee, and his
q eyes fixed on the crowd with hopeless,
staring look, as though his bewildered
mind was struggling with the problem
why so many were warm, well-fed, and
happy, and he was so wretched.
Poor child l said, going up to
him; for could not help it, though l
have not much sympathy with common
street-beggars. Can 1 do anything
for you?"
"You can buy an apple" he said,
quietly, hardly looking at me, though
he took up his basket, as he spoke.
'You shouldn't sit on the cold
stones" said l. 1T is very bad for you"
81 can't stand up" he said, simply.
"But it's shame that you should be
out this cold day, anyway" said 1
warmly. You don't look able to sit
up"
He flushed up. 81 have to. Joe
can't leave Baby, and somebody must"
but where are your parents? Have
You no one to care for you, poor
child? 2"
His dark, sad eyes looked squarely
at me now and his poor little mouth
quivered, as he replied:
Joe takes care of me. Father and
mother are dead. Mrs. Wilson used to
take care of us; but she's dead too"
And where do you live? q | asked
next, for | could not bear the sight of
that unfortunate child, who ought to be
in a hospital, sitting on the cold stones.
He told me where he lived, and, after
giving him some pennies, went di-
rectly there. With some trouble.
found it-a wretched room. so poor and
uncomfortable that shall not describe
it to you. And / found 10, a ragged
pleasant-faced girl, about twelve years
old, taking loving care of the most
wretched, puny, fretful boy you ever
saw.
From 10 learned their story. Their
parents were respectable, well-to-do
people, and they had always lived in
comfort till these parents died, about
three years ago. and left them a com
Portable home and some other property.
The man who took care of their prop
erty their guardian) had given them
into the hands of Mrs. Wilson, kind
friend, who had taken good care OF
them; and every few months 10 said J
Mrs. Wilson used to go and get money
from the man who had the house.
But about year ago their kind
friend died, and left them in the hands
of her husband, an idle, drink loving
man, who cared only for the money and
nothing for them. Ee had sold most
of the furniture, moved them into this
wretched room. threatened to do some
thing awful to them if they COM
planned, and abandoned them. What
they could pick up and what had been
given to them by kind-hsarted though
very poor neighbors was all they had
had since, now these many months.
"But who is your guardian ?" ask
cd. 10 didn't know. She knew neith-
or his name nor how to find him; and,
besides, she was afraid OF Mr.. Wilson.