Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1882-01-19

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but the heavy rain and strong south
wind which had swept the town since
early dawn still continued with un-
diminished fury. The gale shrieked
- il tore about the corners and lashed
the faces Of the few hnrrying foot
passengers; while the driving rain
penetrated everywhere. drenching the
streets, flooding the CUTTERS. and col
lecting in deep, treacherous pools at
the corner crossings. The bare trees
moaned and writhed end wept; the
swinging sign-boards il front Of small
taverns creaked and gF0aned dismal
IL; the tall chimney of the Dumble-
ton Knife Works rocked thrsatenina-
~; and in the midst Of all the tumult
the great river was swelling. and
straining at its wintry bounds, while
q sharp cracking sounded ever and
anon from the broad field of ice that
stretched from shore 10 shore, and
little streams began to appear here
and there, running swiftly along the
frozen plain.
March had come in Ike a lamb !:
it was departing like a lion; and
shrouded by wind ard rain and heavy
mist, the last night of the month came
thickly down.
1t was past supper time, past clos
ing time for the mills and factories,
past trading time for the stores, and
except for an occasional light here in
some saloon or corner grocery, the
windows along the business streets of
the town were dark, and the rain beat
unheeded against their black panes.
Few people were abroad, and even
those few seemed to have been forced
upon unwelcome journeys, for they
hastened through the sloppy streets
with bent heads, shivering as the
sharp winds tore at their wrappings
or the guests Of rain beat upon them.
One such man. clad in a heavy oil
cloth coat, was walking rapidly up
State street, when, just at a particu-
lar window corner, he came in sudden
contact with lad who was crouching
in front Of bakers window where
single lamp was still burning, eyeing
with hungry gaze the dainties within.
'Hallor cried the man, starting
back, i almost ran over you, my boy.
Then looking more sharply at the
dripping figure before him, he con-
tinued; why, Jerry, is that you?
Yes. sir. replied the other, half
pulling his tattered cap from his head.
"lf you please, sir, it's me-
What's wrong2' said Afr. Waiter
con. the proprietor Of the great mills
that skirted the river, for it was he.
What's wrong? Why are you not at
homeP The mills closed two hours
ago.
i know it, sir; but ! haven t worked
this week, sir, for sister Nellie's sick,
an I've been a-nussin Of her up to
our boardin' house. You see, sir,
since mother died, an our house was
sold, Nellie and me has stopped at
Mis- Crawford's boardin house; but
my moneys gave out, an Mis- Craw-
ford she told me this mornin'-she
said, sir, this mornin'-she said, sir,
this morning the boy stopped abb
ruptly.
'What2 Come, Jerry, speak out.
You're not afraid of me. Tell me
what she said
Well, sir, she did say as how must
pay our board every week in advance
now; for, if Nellie was agoin to be
sick an was agoin' 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 nv money too; all
but twenty cents. an that / spent for
oranges for Nellie. An Mis- Craw-
ford, she said as how couldn't eat at
her table 'thaut / paid first. So
Jest slips out into the street at meal
times, for fear Nellie d know / WASH Z
eaten, an 'twould worry her, she
bein' sick. An that's how l came
here, sir
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 his wet face and the cold rain
beat upon his scantily clad shoulders.
Mr.. Watterson stood for a moment
in deep thought. It was hard for him
to realize such poverty as this, and
among his own hands too. Jerry was
q 'bObbin-bOy' in the mills, whom he
had known for 3 year or more BY
sight. the only support Of a widowed
mother and sister-now Of the sister
only; it seemed that the lad had always
been bright-fseed and cherry, and the
great proprietor remembered him as
one Of the happiest among his boys.
That this child could actually suffer
for food while striving to care for his
little charge. (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 Jer-
~, dinnerless. supperless and almost
hcmeless. upon this the widest night
or all the year.
Mr.. Watterson forgot the rising
food, which even now was threaten
ing his mills; he forgot the urgent
errand which had driven him out in
the storm, and he seized the boy by
the arm, pushed open the door oil the
little bakery before which they stood,
and fairly dragged him within.
'Herer he cried TO the baker wife.
who came bowling and smiling, to ex-
ecute the great mans commands.
See Give this lad the best supper
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