The adopted son

by A. L. O. E.

"So they walked on till they entered a very narrow street, low and dirty, where most of the wretched shops were open, and such of the inhabitants as were loitering about looked as though they had been occupants of the workhouse. My father entered a little shop, and merely wishing good evening to the man who was in it, proceeded at once to the back of it, and, followed by Sands, ascended the steep, dark, dirty stair, where noisy sounds and disagreeable smells annoyed both senses at once."

"'Your company may be choice, but I can't say much for their place of meeting,' observed Sands."

"My father unclosed the door of an attic-room, and was received with a burst of welcome from a dozen young voices within. The room was small, close, and dimly lighted by a single candle; but it was impossible to look without interest on the pale, hungry-looking, but intelligent little beings with whom it was crowded; all poor, some barefoot, yet in their poverty as much the children of God and heirs of eternal life as the nobles and princes of the land. My father asked after the mother of this one, and the sick sister of that, winning the hearts of his scholars by his look of kindly interest; and, after a few minutes spent in this manner, 'Now, let us begin with a hymn,' said he."

"'Jerusalem, my happy home!' How strangely sweet it must have sounded to hear the voices of those ragged children sing of the 'pearly gates' and 'streets of shining gold' of the heavenly dwelling-place above, within the walls of that miserable attic! Sands remained an attentive, perhaps an interested, listener for the two hours during which his companion's labours lasted. When they found themselves again in the street, he remarked:

"'Well, certainly there is some difference between your kind of society and the jolly parties to which I am accustomed at the White Hart, or Saracen's Head.'"

"'But are all the pleasures which you may have enjoyed there worth the hope of meeting one of those little ones in heaven, when the kingdom of God shall have come?'"

"Sands made no reply, and walked back in silence."

"A day of trouble was coming for my father, in which he would need all the comfort which religion and a good conscience could give. He was sent one evening to a customer with a parcel of valuable goods, for which he was to receive payment. Thinking of lending one of his little friends in gold and blue to a widow who kept a stall near the square to which he was going, he opened his pocket-book which he carried with him, and placed one of the copies in it. The woman had, however, left her stand, so this opportunity of doing good was lost for the time. The customer received the goods, and paid for them, and two five-pound notes were carefully placed by my father in the pocket-book beside the little publication."

"The streets were much crowded on his return, for there were preparations for a grand illumination. My father did not loiter on his way, but his attention was naturally attracted by the splendid stars and wreaths, which were beginning to be lighted up as he passed. As he entered his master's shop, he put his hand into his pocket, and his surprise and distress may be readily imagined, when he found it entirely empty. His first impulse was to retrace his steps, which he did, though with scarcely the faintest hope of success; glancing vainly down on every side, asking bystanders the question which always received the same discouraging answer. All the glories of the illumination were lost upon him; he could think of nothing but his lost bank-notes."

"Weary and sad, he returned to his home, where he had to wait for an hour—a most painful hour it was—till his master returned from seeing the illumination. The confession of his loss was frankly made, with every expression of heartfelt regret; but the anger of the haberdasher was beyond all bounds, and he treated my unhappy father as though the money had not been lost but stolen by him. Whether the master had indulged too freely in drink that night, I know not, but I think it more than probable; he abused my father in violent terms, dismissed him from his service, refused to give him even a character, and, for his own convenience alone, allowed him to remain beneath his roof until he could procure some one to supply his place."