The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1888-08-01
Selected Storm.
The Little Newsman.

lduBneu lOT InOIDeuJ. IL lOOheu 81
strange and somehow out of place.
None of us had ever seen or heard any
thing like it before.
1t was in the yard of the largest
marble-works in the city of Chicago.
Ever so many fine monuments, deli
cately carved and finished, stood there
complete to show how well work could
be done. And then there was work in
all stages of finish-some pieces of
marble just begun to be chiseled, little
and great, simple and elegant. Then
there were broken pieces of marble ly-
ing there apparently useless, and some
otherwise, but broken in process of
chiseling.
Not one of all these escaped the quick
eye of the little street vagrant Gas any of
us would have called him) who had en-
tered the yard few moments before
with such business air and walked
from one to the other and scanned them
closely.
We had paid little attention to him,
for we thought that for want of some
thing worse to do probably he had just
wandered in. 1t was his first question
that startled us. The smiles died away
from the faces of all as we listened to
him and watched him. He stepped
nearer the one that he took to be boss
among us, and said.
" say, Mister, how much does this
cost?" He pointed TO plain marble
slab that looked simple enough in the
midst of so many finer ones. | can't
tell you how this question sounded, for
you can't hear his voice. 1t had in it
something which brought tears instead
of smiles.
The boss named the price. A disap-
pointed look crept over the face of the
ragged little newsboy, and with forced
smile that was sadder than tears he
looked up with
Why, that's more than | thought
l amt able to pay that"
He went on through the smaller ones,
inquiring the price of each, and each
time looking his disappointment that
all were too costly for his small means.
Finally he stopped in front of broken
shaft of marble, one of the remains of
an accident in the yard the day before.
He took off his ragged hat and, gazing
at the broken stone for few moments,
he stammered out, through tears:
I" say, Mister, that looks like her,
somehow. How much may l have it
for?"
He was asked if he would want it let
tered, and when it was explained to
him what that meant, and that it would
cost something to have it done, he said:
mo; l can't afford that, but p'r'aps
/ can manage that myself" and again
that sad, forced smile.
"Ye see," he went on, " mother and
l were all there were left of us, least
ways as far as we knew, for we haven't
heard from father for ever so long.
We kept house together. l earned
what / could, and mother she worked
as long as she was able. She wasn't
very old, but she was always crying,
only when she cheered up to make her
little son happy-that's what she called
me; but she could not cheer up for
long. She grew sicker and sicker,
and-well-I did all l could for her,
but-she died last week" The little
fellow was sobbing now as he leaned on
the broken shaft that reminded him of
his mother.
His tears were not the only ones, ]
can tell you. We nodded to the boss
and he named price so small that the
manly little fellow looked up with
amazement that at last he had found
something within his means. He
quickly closed the bargain and counted
out the nickels and pennies for his
prize. He walked about few moments
among the stones, spelling out, as best
he could, the inscriptions, asked sew
eral questions about how it was done
and how long it took; then he hastily wen
out, like man of business, saying:
I'll be after it tomorrow"
He came toward the middle of the
day, when the morning papers were al
sold. He had little four-wheeled cart
into which he asked us to load the
stone; and never purchaser had lief
that yard with sweeter, sadder salts
faction than our little hero. He tool
the street toward the cemetery - we
knew, for we watched him-and more
curious and interesting set of men you
never saw than were our workmen tt
know what had become of our littl,
newsman, as we grew to call him, TO
he didn't seem like boy to us.
We half expected he would turn W
some day to learn more about the let
tering or something; but he neve
came, and our curiosity we though
was likely never to be gratifed.
One Monday morning, as we gathere,
at our work, one of the men, who, W
had noticed, seemed particularly sober
startled us with
- say, boys, wouldn't you like t
know what became of our little news
man?n
Yes, yes; what do you know o
him?" came from several at once, an
work was forgotten for a time as W
listened to the story of our little hero
the end.
WE'LL" said the workman, 4" wi
own l have thought of the little fello'
every day since he was here, and some
how couldn't get rid of the thought tina
l should like to know what became {
him. How to find out / couldn't tel
for not one of us had asked where h
lived or his name, or knew any on
who could tell us. Yesterday though
of a plan, and so in the afternoon
started for the cemetery thought
likely he had carried his stone to.
was luckU for almost at nv first uupl