THE COLORED FOUNDLING.
A poor, but honest and respectable old man, whose name was Hector, resided in Philadelphia. He and his wife lived on the scanty earnings of their own hands, in a very small cottage. One evening, at a late hour, a woman of their own color, with an infant, stopped at their dwelling and asked for a night's lodging, to which his wife answered, "We can't lodge you, we got but one bed." "Oh," said the old man, seeing her a stranger and in difficulty, "let her tag [stay], she sleep in de bed with you, I go make a bed on de floor—must not turn her out o' doors."
The woman accordingly stayed; and in the night, Hector was awakened by the cries of the child. He arose to ascertain the cause of it, and found the mother was gone; on which he aroused his wife, saying, "Well, Sukey, you see de woman has gone off and lef' de child for you." "Oh," said his wife, "what shall we do now? She never come again." "Well," returned Hector, "then you must take care of him: who knows God Almighty send him here for something—may be to take care of us in our old age—must not turn him out o' doors."
So they fed and nourished it with milk from the market—the old man going regularly to procure it. No one appearing, the child became their adopted. When he had attained the age of eight or nine years, proving an active lad, they put him to a chimney sweeper, as the most likely way for him to become early useful, and he soon contributed a little to his guardian's subsistence.
They at length grew quite infirm, and the wife died. After which, the neighbors, thinking it too much for the lad to have the whole care of the old man, prevailed on him to go to the Bettering House. When there the boy did not forsake but frequently visited him, and continued to add to his support until he died; a few days after which the lad died also, having grown up beloved and respected.