Nevada County picayune., 1888-11-14

was SoDDlHg now as he leaned on the
 broken shaft that reminded him O
 his mother.
 Ills tears were not the only ones
 can tell you. We nodded to tn,
 boss, and he named a price so smal that the manly little fellow looked uI III amazement that at last he hat found something within his means
 lie quickly closed the bargain, ant counted out his nickels and pennies for his prize. He walked about for few moments among the stones. spelling out, as best he could. the in- Scrlptions; asked several questions about how it was done, and how long it took then hastily went out. like a man of business, saving:
 I'll be after it tomorrow.
 He came toward the middle of the day, when the morning papers were all sold. He had little fourwheeled cart, into which he asked us to load the stone; ana never a purchaser had left the yard with a sweeter. i sadder satisfaction than our little hero. He took the street toward the cemetery-we knew, for we watched 1 him-and a more curious and inter- ested set of men you never saw, than were our workmen to know what had become of our little newsman, as we grew to call him, for he didn't seem like a boy to us.
 We half expected he would turn up some day to learn more about the let tering OF something; but he never came, and our curiosity, we thought, was likel Y never to be gratitied.
 One Monday morning as we gath cred at our work, one of the men, vino, we had noticed. seemed par ticHlarly sober, startled us with;
 T say, boys. would you like to know what became of our little news man?"
 Yes, yes; what do you know of him:" came from several at once; and work was forgotten for awhile IS we listened to the story of our little hero to the end,
 "Well," said the workman. Il will own have thought Of the little fellow every day since he was here; and somehow l couldn't rid of the thought that l should like to know what become of him. How to find out l could not tell for not one of us had asked where he lived, or his name, or knew any one who could tell us. Yesterday l thought ot a plan, and so in the afternoon l start ed for the cemetery, where thought it likely he had carried his stone. l was lucky, for almost at my first question the man Tn charge seemed to know who meant, and asked if l would know the stqno Il saw it. l told hlm would, and ne started with me toward a corner of the cem etery that was afraid was the Pot ter's Field l asked him if he was taking me to the pauper's burying ground, for l could not somehow bear to think that our little news mans mother had no bettar place to be laid away in. He anSweredi
 "'No; but if 1t hadn't been for one of your good churches down there in the city, she would have fared no better than other paupers. You know the big mission church down there on the avenue: Well, they couldn't think of burying their Sunday school scholars in Potter's Field, if they were "only paupers, " many of them; and so several years ago tAGy bought big lot up here just for them, and there's where I'm taking you. Here it is, he said, as he stopped in front of big lot, nice ly fixed up-and sure enough there was our monument, at the head of one of the larger graves ] knew it at once, just as 1t was when 1t left our yard, l was going to say, until l got little nearer, boys, can't describe to you the lettering on that stone; you will have to see it for yourselves. will confess that some thing blurred my eyes so 1 couldn't read it at first. The little man had tried to keep the lines straight, and evidently thought that capitals would make it look better and bigger, for nearly every letter was a capital l copied it, and here it is, but you want to see it on the stone to ap- preciate
 MY MOTHER
 SHE Dide LAST WEAK.
 SIZE Was ALL 1 Had. SIZE SED