The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1882-01-03

ing his tattered cap from bis head. "If
you please sir, it's me-"
"What's wrongp" said Mr.. Waiter,
sen, the proprietor Of the great mills
that skirted the river, for it was he
whats wrongP Why are you not at
homer The mills closed two hours
ago"
II know it, sir; but / haven't worked
this week, sir, for sister Nellie's sick, an
I've been a nussn' of her up to our
boardin' house. You see, sir, since
mother died, an our house was sold,
Nellie an me has stopped at Mis- Craw-
ford's hoardin' house; but my moneys
give out, an Mis- Crawford she told me
this mornin'-she said, sir, this mornin'
-she said, sir, this mornin' THE boy
stopped abruptly.
"What! Come, Jerry, speak out
You're not afraid of me. Tell me what
she said"
"Well, sir, she did say as how l must
pay our board every week in advance
now; for, if Nsllie was again to be sick
an / was to quit work to nuss her, she
didn't see how she'd get her money -
An our week ran out to-day, sir, and
my money, too; all but 20 cents, an
that I spent for oranges for Nellie An
Mis- Crawford, she said as how | couldn't
eat at her table, 'thout l paid first. So
Jest slips out into the street at meal
times, for fear Nellie d know l wasn't
eatin' an 'twould worry her, she bein'
sick. An that's how I came here, sir u
The boy finished, half frightened at
his long speech to 'the master" and
again pulled at his ragged cap, while the
March wind tossed his yellow hair about
bis wet face and the cold rain beat upon
his scantily clad shoulders.
Mr.. Watterson stood for moment
in deep thought. II was hard for him
to realize such poverty as this, and
among his own hands too Jerry was
"5obbin boy" in the mills, whom he
bad known for year or more by sight
the only support Of a widowed mother
and sister-now OF the sister only; il
seemed that the lad had always been
bright-faced and cherry, and the greal
proprietor remembered him as one o.
the happiest among his boys. That this
child could actually suffer for food while
striving to care for his little chsrge (the
orphan Nellie), seemed to the gentleman
too terrible to be true.
And yet there just before him, his
honest blue eyes telling the same story
which his lips had repeated, stood Jerry
dinnerless, supperless and almost home
less, upon this the widest night of al
the year.
i Mr. Watterson forgot the rising food
which even now was threatening hi;
mills He forgot the urgent erranG
which had driven him out in the storm
and he seized the boy by the arm, push
ed open the door OF the little bakery be-
fore which they stood, and fairly drag
ged him within.
"Herer' he cried, to the bakers wifi,
who came, bowing and smiling, to exc
cute the great mans commands. "See
Give this lad the best supper you Cal
cook and all the provisions he can car
ry, and send the bill to me-" Then
hurriedly drawing some money from
his pocketbook, he thrust it into Jerry
hand, and said:
when you have eaten, 60 back t
} Mrs. Crawford's and pay her for
month in advance. Then find docto
for Nellie, and stay with her yourse
d. until she is well. After that come bac
to me at the mills. If they are stant
ing, YOU shall have work. No. Not
word r' he continued, as the astonishe
boy would have spoken. "The none
: is a present to you and Nellie from me