Varieties.
Little Chimney-Sweeper.—About three o’clock, one cold, dark, damp day, at the end of December, I met a little chimney-sweeper in England, who had come with his father that morning from a town eight miles off, to sweep the various chimneys about. He was nearly ten years old.
“Do you go home to-night, my little fellow? Where is your father?” “He went forward to the village of D——, and I am to follow.” “Are you afraid to go?” “No, I don’t feel afraid.” “I hope you are a good boy and don’t swear—do you say your prayers?” “Yes, always, every night and morning.” “Do you like sweeping chimneys?” “As to that, I don’t think any one could like it much; but there are nine children of us, and we two eldest boys must help father; and mother is good, and gets us breakfast early; and father is good to us, and we do pretty well.” “Do you go to Sunday school?” “Some of us always go.” Here ended our conversation.
About four o’clock a message came, “May the chimney-sweeper’s boy sleep here?—he cries, and says it is so wet and dark.” After a minute’s thought, we replied, “Yes, if he is willing to be locked up in the stable till morning.” With this he was well content; and after a clean bed of straw was made, he seemed delighted with his new quarters.
After the key had been turned a few minutes, an old servant coming by heard a voice—a steady, pleading voice; and on listening, she heard the child distinctly repeating collect after collect, and various church prayers. She went round, and looking in, saw our poor boy, kneeling by his bed of straw, with his hands clasped, and praying very earnestly. She said, “The tears came in my eyes as I watched the little fellow, and to see him rise from his knees, and so happily lay himself down to sleep.”
In the morning, they watched the child, when he repeated just the same before he left the stable. Upon coming out, the servants asked him, “Who taught you to say your prayers as you do?” “Mother,” he replied. “Then your mother’s a good scholar?” “No, she can’t read a word—none in our house can read.” “How then did she learn all these prayers?”
“Mother goes to church every Sunday, and says them after the parson, and so she learns them; and every night we all kneel round her that are old enough to speak, before she puts us to bed, and she says them first, bit by bit, and we all say them after her; and sometimes she learns a new one, and then she teaches us that. She tells us always to say our prayers when we are away from her, and so I do.”
A Shower of Ashes.—A late number of Silliman’s Journal contains the following memorandum, handed in by Rev. Peter Parker, M. D., who was a passenger in the ship Niantic, from Canton for New York:
“Ship Niantic, L. F. Doty, master, April 5th, 1840, being in lat. 7 deg. 5 min. north, lon. 121 deg. 10 min. east, at 2 h. A. M., sixty miles west from Mindanuo, one of the Philippine islands, came up a fine breeze from the northeast, which was attended with a shower of dust, resembling that of ashes. It came so thick that it obscured the moon and stars, which were all out very clear before. It filled the sailors’ eyes so full that they were obliged to retreat from the deck below. It lasted about one hour, and cleared away. At daylight the Niantic looked like an old furnace, completely covered, from the royal-masthead down to the water’s edge. The decks I should judge were one quarter of an inch thick with the ashes. We took up one half bushel, and might have saved three or four. It fell in small quantities, at different times, for two or three days after. On the 14th of April, spoke the English barque Margaret, whaler; reported likewise on the 5th of April had a similar shower of ashes, being at the time three hundred miles north-northeast of us. He informed me that on the 12th of April he visited several villages on the island of Madura, entirely deserted by the people, from one of which he had taken two brass cannon and several other articles. This led us to think that some volcanic eruption had lately happened in that neighborhood. After the 9th, perceived no more ashes in proceeding northward.”
Circumstances alter Cases.—“Is Mr. Bluster within?” “No; he is out of town,” remarked the servant. “When can I see him?” “I don’t know;—have you any especial business with him?” “Yes, there is a small bill which I wish to settle.” “Well,” said the servant, “I don’t know whether he will return this week or not.” “But I wish to pay the bill, as I am to leave the town immediately.” “Oh! you wish to pay him some money—he is up stairs, I’m thinking; I will call him. Take a seat, sir; Mr. Bluster will be with you in a moment!”
Fatal Attack of a Serpent.—A letter from Martinique, in the Journal of Guadaloupe, states, that M. De Pickery, merchant, was met while on a hunting excursion by an enormous serpent, which attacked him, and inflicted several severe wounds in his legs. He defended himself with great courage; but, although timely succor was administered to him, he died four hours after. The serpent was nearly seven feet in length, and when opened there were found in it one hundred and sixty-two little ones. (1840.)