The homeless heir, or, Life in Bedford Street
page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ] THE HOMELLESS HEIR; LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. A MYSTERY OF PHILADELPHIA. BY JOHN, THE OUTCAST. PHILADELPHIA: J. H. C. WHTING, N. E. CORNER CHESNUT AND FIFTH ST'S. 1856, page: 0-3[View Page 0-3] Entered according to Act of Congrees, in the year 186G, by J. C. WHTING, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States in and for the Eastcrn District of Pennsylania. THE HOIME LE SS HEIR. CHAPTER I. Where each new day proclailns chance, change, and death, Anid life itself's as filt as is thel air we breatlhe., PlINEAS Fr LETCHEa. 'I WILL t'ry to-dudy, Molly,"' said at wretclledly clad man, on whose naturally mild features want and care hlad stamped a harsh and stony aspect, to a woman whose appearance denoted a degree of wretchedness equal to his own, while both were standing alt the corner of Bedford and Spafford streets, one chilly morning in the fall -of 1851. "I will try!"--Iqw often have these words been uttered with a consciousness that the effort which- they signified would be fu- tile! Hlow often have they flowed fron the lips wile the heart was sinking with an assured conviction of inability to perform a required task!--a task upon which the present lot and future well- being of the utterer depended. Such was the declaration of Joe Wilson to his unhappy wife just before he left her on the morning referred to, after she had been urging upon hini the necessity of better conduct, and better pur- suits, by touching reminders of what sad changes had been wrought by his derilictions. The changes Joe 'had known had been many and great. He had fallen from a position of compara- tive comfort and reputation, and become, at thirty-three years of w:ge, a resident of one of those quarters so prolific of vice, crime, arld destitution which are known as the "plague spots" of Phila- delphia. He was one of a class whose number is increasing; who, having no definite trade or business, depend upon chance for a livelihood, and are necessarily subject to all its vicissitudes. The villany of supposed friends, in connection with a tra-in of unfore- seen circumstances, and his own lack of' energy, had carried him. step by step, gradually, but quickly, down the abyss of poverty. He became the associate of the outcast and vile. But though he was with them, he partook not of their vileness. He drank of the bitter cup of reckless degradation, but never found it congenial to his -nature. Mary Wilson, after the departure of her husband, proceeded a short distance along Bedford street, and then passed through a 3 page: 4-5[View Page 4-5] 4- THE IIOM:IES lli:II, narrow :.llev into a sminll yard, darkened )b the shladow of '\ dilapidaltel ddwelling, whchl }had evidlently been originally con- structed foir a worksop, I and which iCwas falling to pieces, appa- rently iniore fromt the very presence of a misery which seemed to haLve },e(o.,io p:tlpa:lle, tlhan from tage or ex(esegive u se. Into tlig {,,u- --i the lower apartnment of which the wretched couple lived- Mi s. \V ilsnn entered. 'The appearlance of the room indic;ated thle absenice ,f .every thiing that coulld imply the lo sibiliti/ of coimfort. 'I'lhe floor was of course btre ; an old box served the purpiose of biti a; clicst and table ; in one corner of the room was sone straw, u11l,n w hich were on1e o two articles of tatteredl bcfl-ci,)t hing ; nearl tis lpallet wa:s a broken-backed clhair; and some cracked crockery ;,d1 t\wo knives, witliout ;handles, were upon the box table. This inIvInt itry, with one or two cooking utensils, embraces all the fur-. Ili:tUlr of an abode which two, ill1mortal beings called their home, ill the Clristi;an city of lPhila;lelphia. Mrs. Wilson was soon busy in assorting some rags which had been gitclered from the streets. There was at strange stillness in the room-no sound came in save the faint dull hum of a distant noise. As the sorrowing wom:an labored, the working of her coun- tenance, which still retained traces of former beauty, spoke of the busv, crushintg thoughts whch were going on within : a tear stole down her cheek, but she wiped it away, and plied her task with forced, but redoubled energy. Dreary hours passed on, anl Mrs. Wilson was still at her work. Presently the cry of an infint procee(ed frolm under the ragged counterpane; and although no sign of such an occupant of the bed couldl Le trceive\ d ,by tlIe most searchlg gaze, yet the mother went and took up an elnaciated babe, wh se very existence seemed to be a fieak of nature ; as if the causes which result in death had, by some btrange phenomenon in this case, ceased to operate. The mother's ftlbrts soothed the child, which, on becoming passive, seenled to assulle the linlements of dissolution. Ever beautiful is a mother's love, but doubly beautiful when it sheds its loveliness aroundL the horme of want and misery, lighting it up with a ray of Jieavcn-sent joy. The smile which fell upon the attenuated object of affec tiol, t11ough sicklied over with care, plainly told how much of all the happiless it was the mother's lot in life to know, was concentrated in that little embodiment of early suffering-a blos- som withered cre it bloomed. We have said the mother's efforts soothed the child, at least so it seemed. The little infant was certainly very quiet; yet it soon breathed hard, the limbs became restless-the mother's eye fixed upon it with an anxious and wondering gaze---the breath became shorter, the form grew somewhat rigid, the tiny head suddenly fell back.--Mother! gaze not so wildly at thy infant's face! thy glance canlnot finll the life which is gone: thy child is dead! An agonizing shriek broke the stillness around. Joe entered the door at this moment. His wife lay prostrate upon the floor in OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. 6 convulsive struggles, and his child had fallen from its mother's arms, and rested in peace beside her. One look revealed to the woe-stricken man the work which hal been done. His eye dilated fearfully, and for a moment- he held his breath; but soon lis chest heaved, a long-drawn sigh escaped, the tears trickled down his cheek: the shock passed over him as the storm passes over the prostrate oak; he had sunk beyond the power of misfortune to crush; this last great affliction was but an added drop to the bit- ter draught it was his destiny and his life to drink. In a little while he was laboring earnestly to restore his wife to consciousness by those simple means with which nearly all are fami- liar. He did not think of calling for assistance-not but that he could readily have obtained that aid which the poor are ever willing to extend to the poor, but poverty soon forms and enforces the habit of self-reliance, and in loneliness is it accustomed to act. IIi wife began to show signs of recovering, and eventually was suffi- ciently restored to converse with Joe upon that which rendered her dreary lot still more desolate. She knew from what sufferincg dath had released her babe; she knew that it had escaped from the evil to come-that life for it contained not the promise of a single joy: yet this knowledge could not console what it could not reach; tlis argument of the head could not refute the greater argument of the heart. "I thought," said she, with a moaning sigh, " we'd never raise Jinny." "It wasn't to be expected," replied Joe. A long silence ensued. Joe sat with his hands clasped, gazing fixedly upon the floor, while his wife bent over the corpse of her child which now lay upon the wretched pallet, from which it had been taken but to die. "Oh that I were dead too!" exclaimed the agonized mother, with a burst of grief which startled her husband. "Molly! Molly! why will you go on so?" said he. "It can't be helped now." "But it might have been helped," replied his wife, when her flowing tears had somewhat relieved her overburdened heart. Our Jinny would have lived had she not been here." "The rich die as well as the poor," murmured Joe. "I saw crape, tied with white riband, upon the rich Mr. Gilter's door as I came down." "There will be no crape on our door, Joe." A neighbor now entered, who, on understanding what had oc- curred, suggested the necessity of summoning the coroner. That official's visits had been rather frequent to the quarter where our scene lies, and he and his body of death investigators had many times enlightened the vicinity, and the public irk general, witl those profound, stereotyped conclusions, denominated verdicts, which are so strictly conformable to "Crowner's quest law." This fact was the cause of Mrs. Duggin's ready knowledge upon the page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] 6 THE : OM ELE:S HLEIR, subject; for had it not been for what had come under her own ob- servation, she would lhavo kllown as little about that personage antd his office, as she did of the theory of gravitation. The bereaved parents hlad but little to say with regard to Mrs. Duggin's sugges- tion, and the latter immediately went to the door, and calling a negro who was standing near the house, despatched him for the coroner. Mrs. Duggin then turned her attention to the arrange- tient of matters about the dreary apartment. She was what her ncigfrhbours called "a good soul," though a little too fond of the bottle. This weakness Mrs. Dugin attributed to her poverty, while others attributed her poverty to it-a slight difference of opinion between Mrs. Duggin and others. CHAPTER II. Deem not thy fellow as a creature made To serve thy turn in pleasure or in trade, And then thrown by It bralks thy moral power, To wrap the eternal up in one short hour, And ask what best will serve to help you on, And furnish comruforts till your life is done.--DANA. WHF N Joe left his wife at the corner of Bedford and Spafford streets, lie wended his course slowly along through one or two squa- lid byways, and then passedi into a street of a more cleanly and :Ittractive appearance. lie met laborers, artizans, and traffickers on1 their road to commence the duties of the day. These brought zimntIy reflections to his mind on wasted hours, and wasted pur- ,po e's, and gave renewed strength to the resolve to do better, and 1lo longer seek by idleness or vice to escape the destiny--"In the sweat of thy faceo shalt thou eat bread." The rpsolve, whose pur- posed execution was embodied in the words, "I will try to-day," which fell upon the ear of Maary Wilson like the whispering of Hlope. Joe was now in the situation so pathetically deplored by Burns, in which man must beg- A brother of the earth, To give him leate to toil. In his pursuit of work he entered the storehouse of a man who had amassed a large fortune by dealing extensively in codfish and molasses. This individual, in the days of his poverty, was gene- rally called "Hog Grunt ;" but Fortune's bmiles, more potent than even legislative acts, had changed this euphaneous appellation, and "Hog Grunt" was now known, in and out of print, as Hodge. Grundley, Esq. The trader and the work-seeker encountered each other. Joe's appearance was not of a character to render his in. trusion agreeable at this place, and Grundley's irritated and super- cilious look evinced alike his displeasure and his estimate of the OR, LIFE LN BEDFORD STREET. 7 poor intruder: for be it known, that Ir. Grundley had a way of his own in judging the merits of men. He seemed to compre- l1hend, almost instinctively, the per cent. value of every one who came into his presence; and according to the length of the purse, wa-s the standard of humanity elevated or lowered. ()n one occasion, however, (asking the critical reader's intul- gelice of this digression,) Mr. Grundley's sagacity was at fasult evenl on that point where it was generally most unerring. On this oc- casion he was introduced at the counting-Kexous of Mv,. Dilby, . mercantile acquaintance, to a person whom lie supposed to He a1 man of wealth. This supposition may have been caused- by thle dignified bearing of the stranger, which made a very forcible iim- pression upon Grundley; and isuch an impression, in Grundley's opinion, could be produced only by heaps of gold. Mr. Dilby -having to attend to some business which required a brief absence, retired, and the two new acquaintances were left alone togethler. Grundley was now all smiles and affability, and his coarse vulgalr face, lit up with one of his polite grins, bore some resemblance to that of a hippopotamus in an amiable mood. Every ridge of his rough skin seemed to move as if " life were in it." This agreeable *display, which accompanied a profound disquisition on the state of the market was, however, brought to an end by the return of Mr. Dilby, when the stranger withdrew. Grundley was profuse in his encomiums upon Mr. Dilby's visiter, and Mr. Dilby heartily assented to Grundley's laudatory remarks. "Good business man," observed Grundley, with a pucker of tlxh lips and an elevation of the eyebrows, which betokened his high appreciation of his own wonderful penetration. "He was considered so once," replied Mr, Dilby. Grundley evidently did not like this reply, and was somewhat startled.--"Worth something, I guess?" said lie, half inquiringly. "Not much now," answered Mr. Dilby. '"How?" "Although- once an eminent and prosperous merchant of the South, he is now in reduced circumstances. "What!" gasped Grundley, almost speechless from vexation and surprise; " why H Hthought he was a gentleman!" Grundley's confusion Was too great for him to heed the scornful reply of Mr. Dilby to this half-choked exclamation, which disclosed tlhe baseness of his nature, and without uttering another word he al ruptly left the counting-house. Grundlcy never forgot this mis- tuke, and never forgave himself for it. But while thus attending to Hodge Grundley, Esq., we have left poor Joe Wilson standing in the storehouse of that gentleman, and. in a very unpleasant situation; yet it could not have been other- wise. Mr. Grundley's position in society entitled him to the first notice, and demanded that Joe should stand aside while the former receivedfthe homage due to his merits. Joe in the presence of Grundley was greatly abashed, and had page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] 8 THE I)OMEL ESS ItEIR, not even sufficient self-possession to announce immediately the ob ject of his visit. But the silence w zs soon broken by Grundley, who roughly and abruptly asked, "What do you want?" Joe meekly answered, "I've come to see if you're in want of any body to work." Mr. Grundley did not think that he was: "' But," continued he, "what can you do?" "I can do light portering, and can write what is called a good business hand, and have some knowledge of accounts." An idea flashed across (Grundy' milnd that he might make a clieap bargain--" 'Who were you employed by last?" This was rather a pertinent question. Joe's "last" employer was an individual whose natnme or residence he d(id not deem it ne- cessarv to ascertain while perf(rminng the brief labor of carrying a trunk a short distance. PBut after a slight hesitancy, he an- swered, "I've not been regularly employed for some time past." "Wh, what have you been dloing?" "Such little jobs as I could get to do." ' Rather poor business that," observed Grundlley. "It is, sir. "Well," said Grundley, who began to think that the applicant would not prove a very profitable emplovee, "I don't want any- lody in your line to-day. At some other time I may possibly have something for vou to do." Joe turned away with a heavy heart. He was not greatly dis- appointed, yet this additional reminder of his wretched state pos- scsse(t a keen poignancy from its bitter suggestiveness. Joe passed from the presence of Grundley into the street. He stcood for a while upon the footway, with his eyes fixed intently pron the groundl; deeper and deeper grew the shade of grief upon his face; but the busy throng moved by, and soon the rush of active life beside him changed the current of his feelings, and stimulated himl to another Vffort to improve his fortune. W,e will not follow him to the place whither he directed his course, nor recount his reception there; it is sufficient to say that his sensibilities were less deeply wounded, and that his request for employment resulted in a promise which cheered him for a moment; but another mo- ment's reflection told him that the promise would never be fulfilled. Joe now bent his steps towards his desolate home, upon whose bare floor, as the reader has already been told, he saw his deadl child and prostrate wife. OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. 9 CHAPTER III. Beneath that begrgar's roof;, Lo! Death dotl keep his state! Enter-no crowds attend; Enter--no gufar-ds defend This palace gate.----MR. SOUTEY. TilE negro whom Mrs. Duggin had sent for the coroner, returned in an hour or two. Mrs. Dqggin had left the house, and the \Vil- sons were alone, sitting in silence, gazing upon their lifeless off- spring. The deep grief of the wife and mother had stirred thle heart of the husband and father with a kindred agony. The negro for a while hesitated to speak; but he at length said in a tone of commisseration, "Mr. Wilson, de kur'ner will come down dis after- noon." These words were utterly unheeded by the disconsolate pair: totally regardless of the negro's presence, they sat pale and imaloveable, tearless and speechless.--The colored messenger find- ing that no attention was paid to him, withdrew with a noiseless tread and a look of wonder. The hours passed on amid the light and shadows of the life around. The great city was all astir with its countless activities; the purposes of man were consummating in the rush of thousands, and the labors of innumerable hands were adding to the grandeur and trophies of a high civilization; yet sorrow moved amidst it all, like a silent stream, or faintly murmured in secluded spots. Late in the afternoon the coroner arrived, and his jury were col- lected together. That body formed an interesting group. The in. dividuals composing it seemed to have been selected as representa- tives of the phases of degradation which give to cities distinctive classes-embodiments of the active and the passive vices. The 'loafer,' the brawler, the sharper, and the 'pot-house' politician were there; each, in every word and gesture, showing forth the distinctive characteristics of his class. The examination and deliberations of the jury were conducted with all the haste and indifference with which men dispatch unim- portant affairs-for what so unimportant as the reason why death should overtake a pauper's child. The jury finally came to the sagacious conclusion, that the death of the child was attributable to "natural causes," and so the verdict was rendered: one of the jurors, however, with a pertness which might hbve been mistaken for wisdom, intimated the propriety of changing the verdict to "death from social causes." Night came down. Hushed was the hum of busy day. Ter thousand lights shed their cheerful rays upon the long and glitter- ing avenues of lte city; but no brightness shone from the home of the bereaved. Silence and darkness were within and around. Morning broke. The few and sc:nty preparations for the burial of the child were made; and as the sun was sinking in the west, o page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 A TH:E HO MELESS HEIR, tile little pine coffin was borne through the door by a man who wa. f I,,'s companion and co-sufferer in his idle wanderings, and would ]1e with him now. Joe anId Maary Wilson followed, and close be- ill(d them appeared Mrs. Dugginl ann; another female, the wife of a lal,brer whlo occupied the upper apartment of the house in which the Wilsons lived. Tile negro who was despatched for the coroner. v was leaning against the house as the funeral train, or, rather, group omlTrgOed froIn it; and, as it moved along, lie followed, his whole ,lermleanor indicating sadness and sympathy. The course of the- mourners lay through the southern section of the city, and as they ,-.ft the squalid locality of their residence, they passed into a street lintd on each side with the abodes of wealth and comfort; and though misery walks abroad in the full light of day, it is yet viewed by many with indifference; but there was much in this cheerless and diminutive procession to win something of compassion even fromn those most callous to the sufferings of others. Beauty gazed upon it through the richly-curtained windows, and the eye was fixed in sadness. Children paused a while from play to wonder at thile strange sight. Pedestrians suddenly stopped, and conversed with one another in regard to where the poor mourners came from. But these moved on their way without noticing the attention which they attracted, and after passing several streets, reached the burial place, and the spot set apart for the last repose of the poor. The coffin was immediately lowered into the grave, and those who had come with it, gathered around. No tear was in the mo- ther's eye, and her features were rigidly fixed in that strange calmness which comes when hope is gone. There being no indication of moving from the spot, Mrs. Durgin approached Joe, and touching him upon the shoulder, asked him whether they should now go. lie spoke not, but nodded assent. Still there was no movement from the grave. Mrs. Duggin had expected that Joe would intimate the subject to his wife, but she was disappointed. He could do neither; and she saw the neces- sity of taking the matter into her own hands. She therefore spoke herself to the sorrow-stricken one. "Mrs. Wilson," said she, "had we not better go now?" "Where?" asked Mrs. Wilson in a husky whisper, and with a look which seemed as if she had been startled from a state of un- consciousness. "Home," answered Mrs. Duggin. "Yes," replied Mrs. Wilson; but still she stirred not. Mrs. Du,ggin then led her from the spot, and she moved mechanically away. OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. " CHAPTER IV. Why do you follow still that wandering fire, That has misled your weary steps, and leaves you Benighted in a wilderness of woe?----Row. ON the morning succeeding the burial of their child, Joe and his wife were seated beside the box which inconveniently served for u table. Some benevolent person had provided them witlh food; the night had brought calmness to their lhearts, and hunger conquered grief's distaste, and compelled them to eat. Great sorrows are great teachers, and strength is born of endu- rance; yet as the wretched couple sat partaking of their humble fare, the past and the future came up in thought before them; and the past, filled as it was with warnings, contained no lesson from which they could learn the way to better their lot, and no star illu- mined the horizon of the future. "You know, Molly," said Joe, "on Thursday morning, 'fore Jinny died, I went to look for work." "I had forgot it." "Well" continued Joe, "'twas n't much use-tried three or four places; got some promises, some insults, but nothing to do." "; We must do better, Joe," replied \his wife, ' than we hoave done, or we'll have to go to the almshouse." "I've been trying to do better all along; but somehow or other every thing- goes wrong, and bad luck sticks close to me: but 'fore I'll go to the almshouse, I'll go to the graveyard." The latter part of this remark Joe uttered with a determination that rarely marked his speech; but the word " graveyard " opened anew the fountain of his wife's grief, and the tears started from her eyes. Joe saw the consequence of his indiscretion, and became silent. "Good morning!" said a rough voice in a low tone, and Tomt tlolbin, Joe's especial associate, made his appearance. This indi- vidual was somewhat above the middle size, and stout built. His features were rather sharp, though they did not appear so at first sight, in consequence of the breadth of the jaws; a pair of restless grey eyes, and his thick and well-combed dark hair contributed much to the peculiar expression of a countenance which was, in some respects, striking. He was clad in a coat (buttoned up tigllt) and a pair of pants of which the only thing distinguishable about the color was, that one article was darker than the other. l1is hbit bore the appearance of having, in the parlance of his class, been several times "staved in." The character of his entire- demeanor and costume indicated a combination of the 'rowdy' and 'loafer.' "Hope I don't disturb you, Mrs. Wilson," he continued, with an apologetic air.-After a pause, and then turning to Joe he ad- dressed him,---"' Josey, I've come to see if you'd take a look round this mornin, to see if any thing'll turn u p." page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] TIIE HOMELESS HEIR, J,c's ii,.., I :. i. , :I ; tnte w h111'.! r ,lt r.'l thill realv for a, Nv ttl inn tlait iromrlis(,ll to li1vrt }his thloughts; so he instantly sicrnificed his willingnecss to :,ccoinpany Tom, and the two proceeded out to- gether. Mrs. Wilson saw the movement with some degree of alarm, and called, her husband back. "Where vou going, Joe?" she asked. "Oh, not far," replied the latter, with some asperity. "You must not go with that man," rejoined Mrs. Wilson, so- lemnly and earnestly. "Why?" impetuously asked her husband, as he turned to go. "You've went with him too much alreiady." Joe uttered a contemptuous expression, and without deigning any further reply, left the house, and joined Tom. Holbin was one whose actions gave evidence of the possession of capacities for good or evil, which would make their mark upon tihe currenit of his life, solely as circumstances should determine. Withl intense passions were united warm feelings, and while the one made him a furious and dangerous enemy, the other rendered him a warm and attached friend. If thwarted in his purposes, or dis- appointle in his expectations, he would hesitate but little in regard to the means by which he could be cnabirto overcome the diffi- culties of his situation. His position in life developed the worse ratiher than the better traits of his mind, and his career hadl placed his name upon the annals of crime. Twice had he been imprisoned- once for a murderous assault, and once for a theft; yet he had, on nmore occasions than one, shown many qualities of a. generous, and even self-sacrificing nature. Bad as he was, his reputation was still worse; and it was this that caused the dread with which Mrs. Wilson viewed the depart: tre of her husband in his- company, especially as she had hoped that their present strait would be the means of witlhdrawing Joe fromn the evil influences which had contributed so much to their de- gredation. CHAPTER V. In adverse fortunes, he thou strong and stout, And bravely win thyself: Heaven hoiis not out His bow for ever bent--QUAaRLS. HOLBIN and Joe passed up Seventh street to Market or High street. It was market day. The great thoroughfare was filled with crowds of purchasers, seeking a supply of the necessaries and luxuries of the table. One good-humoredly jostled another, and the opposing currents of the living stream, now suddenly checked in their progress, and now as suddenly rushing on, imparted a pleasing animation to the scene. The long line of stands and stalls, OR, LIFE I' BEDFORD STREET. 18 stretching east and west, were covered with the products of the orchard, field, and garden, and with a variety of every thing in the line of fish and flesh, sufficient to tempt the appetite of any epi- cure. The chattering of acquaintances, and the batgriining of buyers and sellers, kept up a cheerful din. The throng eomved to be in a most lively mood ; but Joe and Holbin walked discontent- edly amongst the crowd, beholding, with longing eyes, the attrac- tive articles offered for sale - representatives of want in the midst of this festival of Plenty. ' Josey," said Holbin, when the two had reached a less crowded part of the street, " there seems to be enough in the world for every man to eat-does n't there?" "Yes," replied Joe; "but the thing is for every man to get it." "Well," continued Holbin,".there's a how it's got, 'cause sonme- body's qot it; and there's a how it's :1ot got, 'cause somebody's ,oot got it. Now the, right way of the thing I can't 'xactly understand." "They say," remarked Joe, l" if you go to work, be honest and saving, you'll prosper for certain, and never'll want for any thng." "Well," said Holbin, assuming a certlin dogged air, whichl was, with him, the symbol of earnestness, "I once went to work, and was honest, but it did n't pay. t then took to the Way of the World- every body, you know, cheats when they catl, and only work when they can't help it--so I stole that- box o' things, you know, and got nalbbed. I wa s unfortunate you see; so that did'nt pay. 1 tell Vou, Josey, it takes considerasble slight o' hand to get along respectably in society. Ilowsomever, as Shakspire says, 'There's a flood in every man's affairs that takes him right otl to fortune ;' you may bet your life, if the flood ever comes's my way, I'm on board the ark.'" Continuing their conversation on this subject, they finally reached the Delaware front of the city, and strolled about the wharves-the chosen promenade of idlers of this character. If the two conmpanions had started out inll tie search of employ- ment, they certainly had, so far,' shown no very great eagerness to obtain it. They continued to wander about, viewing the stevedores at their labors, watching the river craft as they spread their sails to the breeze, and glided up or down the stream, and occasionally devoted their special attention to some larger vessel about clear- ing from port. By this time Joe was well ri1d of all his gloomy thoughts. True, his child was buried only yesterday, but then, Till our yesterdie's have lighted The way to dusty death. The "brief candle" was "out," and he seemed to have resolved that all sorrowing should depart, even as the fla me h'ad vanished. The musical cry of "heave o!" from soae labovers engaged iu discharging the cargo of a brig, attracted the notice of the twaitn, and they both mnoved towards the vessel. On the pier all was bus- tle. The removal of bales, boxes, barrels, &c., with their contents, page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " THE HOMELESS HEIR, was proceeding with the greatest energy. Despatch marked every transaction. A person who exercised supervision over the laborers seeing the two idlers, and judging that they at least stood in need of work, called out to them "' Come! bear a hand here." IIolbin and Joe complied with the summons, and were soon as busy as the rest.-They continued at the labor during the remainder of the working hours of the day. When they were done, each received one dollar; and after paying a small debt contracted by each for a " lunch," they left the -scene of the day's toil with a feeling of satisfaction, though much fatigued by the rather unusual exertion. They had not proceeded far before a tavern presented its rather inviting aspect, and Holbin could not resist the temptation to " re- fresh," and so proposed to Joe, to "go in and take something." Both entered the tavern, but fortunately confined themselves to a single dram each; they then wended their way homeward. At the distance of a square from Joe's residence the two parted, each to return to his own home. When Mrs. Wilson saw her husband there was a manifest strug- gle within her breast between the gratification she experienced on perceiving his evidently safe return, and the impulse to upbraid him for his absence. The day had been passed by her in a state of irri- tating anxiety, and the fearful anticipations with which she had viewed Joe's departure with IIolbin, his protracted'absence had tended to confirm; but when the cause ofthat absence was explained, she was more than satisfied, and heartily acknowledged that the day had been well spent. Joe now placed the money in the hands of his wife, who busied herself in the preparation of an humble meal.-It was Saturday night. With the sons of toil the labors of the week are closed, and the hour has arrived for calm and soothing reflection. The task of duty done, life's struggler feels that something has been con- tributed towards the consummation of his destiny. "The end of labor is rest," said the wise Bacon; rest in its highest sense is here known-the rest which comes only with the ingathering of the harvest. "Joe," said Mrs. Wilson, as the two were sitting together about 8 o'clock in the evening, "I saw Sally AM'Vey come out of Gillies' alley this morning, so drunk that she could hardly stand. Little Billy was with her, atund was cryin' hard enough to break his heart." "I did n't know," replied Joe, "that Sally had taken to drink so hard ; but I suppose it's all on account of her troubles. Has any thing been heard of M'Vey?" "No; some think he's drowned, and old Harkins told me he saw something in the paper about a man being drowned, who was just like M'Vey." "May be so," remarked Joe; "but Bob often talked to me about going on a cruise; he said he was tired of always being in the drag; and so I guess he's gone." OR, LIlE' IN IBIDFORi) SHtRET. 15 "It is too ball," said Mrs. Wilson, "for him to leave his poor family to starve." "They were," continued Joe, "always starving when hle was with them, and now, perhaps, somebody will do something for them. Has Sally got any work?" "She got some washing just after 'M'Vey left, anal a few coarse shirts to make; but people are afraid to let their things come to this neighborhood." "Did you ever see her drunk before, Molly?" "No; but I heard Mrs. Miller, who lives in the same house, say that the ladies of the Mission called to see Sally the other day, and she was lying drunk upon the floor-and what's worse, one of the little children had drank some of the liquor, which threw it into fits." The partial and temporary relief which the poor couple had ob- tained, afforded a brief forgetfulness or disregard of their situation, and mutually avoiding all reference to their dead child, their neigh- bors' sufferings and concomitant degradation and vices thus formed the subject of their thoughts and regrets-while, at the same tilne, the noise of drunken brawlers fell upon their cars, affording a pre- sent illustration of the great depravity which reigned around them. CHAPTER VI. Born to himself, by no possession )eW, In freedom fostered, and by fortune fed; Nor guides, nor rules, his sovereign choice control, His body, independent as his soul. Loosed to the world's wide rang--enjoined no aim, Prescribed no duty, and assigned no name, Nature's unbounded son, he stands alone. His heart unbiassed, and his mind his own.--SvvaaO:. ONE morning, about three weeks after the occurrences narrated in the preceding chapter, a ragged boy could be seen stretched at full length upon a rickety cellar door in Bedford street, enjoying the warmth of the sun's rays, which rendered the temperature ot the cold atmosphere, in some degree, more consonant with comufor. The feet of the youth, which were bare, were constantly in motion, and for the purpose of shading his eyes from the sun, his face was covered with his hands and cap--the latter was an article which had evidently been long since worn and kicked out of shape. Not being of a disposition to lie still for a very long period, he arose, and fixed himself in a sitting posture. This action revealed a set of thin and sharp features, a0nd a pair of keen eyes, looking out from under long matted hair. His firame, which was spare and angular, was suggestive alike of want and agility. This juvenile personage was, apparently, about thirteen years of page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] ALL- A*.V*#1'^I-CO JLIiny age. he was known to the whole neigllhborhood as Dick Sharp, or Sharp Dick-his surname so aptly expressing his qualities, that it could be used either as an epithet or an appellation, at the conve- nicnce of the speaker. Dick was most decidedly a fixture of the locality in which we have found him. He belonged to it, most em- Phatically, and was of it. It was generally supposed, (and no other supplosition would have appeared at all probable,) that he was born in the vicinity-although of the place at which that important event ,ccurred, Dick himself had no knowledge, nor had any one else. nhie old laly under whose fostering care he first found himself, (,*t;lined him by accident, and most strenuously declined the honor his maternal parentage. Dick, however, never concerned himself ,)Ut his ancestry, and manifested supreme ildifference to all mat- ters pertaining to his genealogy. He promptly answered all ques- tion the subject by stating that he was " the son of nobody." Mrs. Sharpe, his foster parent, abused him so sadly in his es- t.:Dation, that he " cut her acquaintance," and left her domicil to 'rtlurn no more. We do not know whether Dick had ever heard of Fate; but w^hlther he had or not, he certainly never quarrelled with his des- tiny; but in his own way made the best of it. Skilled in every :trtifie, he lived by stratagem, and accepted whatever chance of- fered. 'he growl of a dog drew Dick's attention to a pair of curs, and tis face lighted up in anticipation of a fight. Dick loved a dog- filit; next to a " big fire," it was his chief pleasure; but on the present occasion, he vainly urged the animals on to the combat witti all the power of his lungs; they would not fight, and he was consequently deprived of his amusement. "Iallo! Dick!" said Tom Holbin, who had approached uno-. served, " have you seen Joe Wilson this mornin' X"' No," was the answer, in a hard cracked voice. "Won't you go down and tell Joe somebody wants him 7" "Why don't you go yourself?" responded Dick. "Cause Joe s old woman don't like me; and me and him went on a spree last Friday, and got pretty well soaked. So you may think there was a time, when he went home. Now if I'd go don there after that, I'd catch thunder." "I didn't know Mrs. Wilson was one o' the storm blowers," re- plied Dick; "I allers thought she was a fust rate woman." "She didn't use to be," said Holbin; "' but she's got to be now." "What d'yer want him for?" asked Dick, manifesting a sullen pertinacity in his endeavor to fathom Holbin's motives. IIolbin's sole object, however, was to obtain Joe's company du- ring a day of idle roving, and so stated to Dick. But the latter had on several occasions, and especially once when suffering under a severe illness, received much attention and kind treatment from Mrs. Wilson, and consequently was loath to do any thing that might OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. ,' be disagreeable to lr. Having now satisfied his curiosity, he toll Holbin very decidedly that he would not go. All difficulty in the matter was, however, obviated by the a p- peatrance of Wilson himself. A great change had come over Joe's features and demeanor-a change which showed that the last few days had done the work of years, and that the unhappy man was fast approaching the goal of his unfortunate and reckless career. "Which way you going?" asked Holbin. "I ain't got any wheres to go," replied Joe, in a desponding tone. - iIs there any thing up to-day?" inquired Dick. "I don't know as there is," Holbin replied. The two companions stood meditating upon the best way of wast- ing that time which was wasting them. The curse of idleness hung lheavily upon them, and its restlessness and discontent were obvious. Their deliberations evidently did not result in any satisfactory con- clusion, either as to the manner of spending the day, or as to tlhe probability of obtaining something by the way side, to furnish the neans for prolonging existence; and they finally walked off with an irregularity in their steps, indicating the absence of any definite purpose. Dick, who was left behind, gazed after them, and for a while considered whether he should follow or not; but lie soon relin- quished all thought upon the subject, and directed his attention elsewhere. After looking about for a short time he began, regard- less of his bare feet, to dance the "double shuffle," but soon be- came tired of this exercise, and, having nothing else to do, picked ? up a stone and threw it at an old sign board which extended out from a store. The stone in descending struck a negro upon the shoulder; the black rolled his eye balls violently, and exclaiming, "Wha for you do dat?" rushed furiously at Dick; but the latter scampered off with a speed that precluded all possibility of being overtaken, and was soon out of sight. page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 1s TIIE I1(,MEL-LESS HEIR. CHAPTER VII. f svyen fromn all cre:atures hidea the hook of Fa)te, All but the p;a1e prescribed, their present state.----oPE. A\ I)il;k wa flying from his infuriate(d colored pursuer, lie ran violentl ,ly agalinst a; genitleman who proved to be no other thn our ,1, I 'ie,d IIdre Grutindley. Grundley was almost thrown from his },:t1:,Lw(' e bv the violence of the contact, and, on recovering flomn tile -ilnck sl,,,k lhis cante mllenacingly at Dick, and clled aloud, "Come,, !,ack tle1re! you inltern;al young scoundrel!"-This Dick had( no iIn- ,.li1ntio,l to dlo, and so, after turning to take a view of the excited in- dtividilul, lie continued his course. Grundley, notwithstanding his r ;it, o,n, obtaining a glimpse at the fiace of the reclkless youth, fast- f',cfl his eyes upoll it with a. strange interest. He intently watched Dick until the latter was no longer visible, and then leaned his head forward, and walked along in a musing gait-occasionally giving evidlence of some strong mental agitation, by nervously striking his cane upon the ground. Mr. TrunDl cy was by no means a man of sentiment,-yet it was plaill that he was now pursuing a train of thought which had no regard to the rate of interest on "first-class paper," nor the prc- Slent or prospective price of any article of merchandise.--"Singu- lar"-lhe muttered--" very sinjgular;-let me see,-yes-might be about that ago-thiat peculiar look is there-regular ragmuffin though 'l -however, that's not unlikely;--wonder where he lives- nust find out."--Grundley happening now to cast his eyes about lhimn, perceived that his abstracted manner and broken utterances, ihad drllawn upon him the observation of passers by.--This inter- ruptczl his self-conference, and caused him to quicken his pace, whllerely lie soon reached his place of business. It wais growing dark. IIolhin and Joe were returning from their layv's wadlllering, an( when about to pass a corner where a number o,f tliorderly ruffians were congregated, one of the gang, in a spirit ,)f nmaliciollsness, struck the top of Joe's hat, crushing the well- Nworn article down to the crown of the head. No sooner was this ,loue, thian a well directed blow from Holbin caused the perpetra- tor of the act to measure his length upon the ground. A furious attack upon Joe and Holbin was the consequence;--the former had neither the will nor disposition to engage in a conflict, and would have retreated had there been any opportunity,-but the ruffians gathered around him furiously, and he was sadly beaten. Holbin, on the contrary, was in his element. He boldly sruck out ' right and left ;" and sent his assailants reeling from him.--av- ing, in some degree, freed himself from those who were attacking him, the situation of Joe claimed his attention, and he turned to the rescue of his friend with the fierceness of a tiger. One of those OR, LIFE INI BEDFORD STREET. 19 whom Hl Ibin had taught to keep at a safe dist:ance, at this jluz- ture cried out '"Periice!" and Tomn, hearing the steps of the offi- cers, called to. his companion-"Josey! make tracks, the gralbber l are comnin'!"--he, himself, having resolved to bide the issue. IBut the call was of no avail, as the officers were, upontheml ami, thon,h the aggressors managed to escape, Joe and Holbin were arrested. The prisoners were taken before an Alderman. A crowd col- lected in front of the magistrate's office, in the midst of whllich Dick Sharp soon appeared-having seen the gathering, he wa:s of course determined to know what had happened. The officer's tes- tified to the fact of the disturbance, and that the two prisoners hal(I been participants in the fight. The latter, in vindication of them- selves, urged that they had been assailed, and had acted in self- defence. This was deemed the usual excuse in such cases, and( there was no testimony to rebut the evidence of the officers. The Alder- man, possibly viewing the conduct of the defendants in the least offensive light, simply required them to give bail to answer for a breach of the peace; but, as may readily be supposed, there was no friend to furnish the required security, and the prisoners were committed in default. Dick Sharp pressed throughthe crowd until he came near where Wilson was standing. "I say Joe," he whispered, " shall- I say any thing to the old woman 'bout this 'ere scrape?" ' Yes," replied Joe, with a tremulous voice,--tell her all about- all about it.-I couldn't help it," he continued, as his eyes filled with tears, and his utterance became choaked. Joe and Holbin were now conducted to prison, and Dick re- paired to the home of the Wilsons. -A bright but feeble blaze in the fire place, shed an-irregular lightthrough the room. - Mary Wilson sat by the flame, constantly feccdingr it with shavings, endeavoring, by this means, to impart some warmth to her chilled body, and; at the same time, to pre- p'are the tea, which, with half a loaf, of bread, constituted the sup- per of herself' and husband. t The door was opened without any preliminary alarm, and Dick Sharp, with a noiseless tread, walked towards Mrs. Wilson. "Why Dick are you here--wha;'s the matter?" "I've just come to tell you, Mrs. Wilson, that Joe's been took up for fightin'." "Took up for fighting," repeated Mrs. Wilson, with a tone and look of astonishment and dread--" why who was he fighting with?" Dick now informed her of the attack upon Holbin and Joe-as related by the former to the Alderman--and also of their arrest. "But where is he now?" eagerly inquired the anxious wife. "He's took-down to prison." A suddten pang shot through the heart of the wretched woman, but she bore up under, the ill news, with a fortitude acquired and called for in the bitter experience of her world tried soul. Sprilg- page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] *0' THE HOMELESS HEIR, iLn tip, she seizedd torn bonnet, annl faded shalyl,--Dick a;ltclhed her morernents with an expression of minrgled cturiosity anrdl wonrder-and as her hand was on the latch of the door, he ventured the inquiry-"Yer ain't going out is yer?" But Mrs. lWilson was too mnuch engrossed with the thoughts wlhich swept over and harrowed her imind, to heed Dick's ques- ti,n, and without saying a word, she walked hurriedly on in tihe di:rections of the offioe of the magistrate who had committed Joe- Dick following close after. The latter evidently comprehended the object of Mrs. Wilson, but seemed not to look upon the re- sult of her proceedure as satisfactory. "Tain't no go," he murmured to himself, Ole Porpus," (the nickname Dick ap- plied to the Alderman,) " won't do nothin ;"-at the same time giving utterance to some remnarks which showed that he viewed imprisonment as a matter to be but slightly regretted, even at the worst. On renching the magistrate's office, the unhappy woman sought, by innumerable inquiries, to learn whether there was any way by whichl the release of her husband could be effected, or, (if that was not attainable whether she could at least see him. The Alderman somewhat calmed her agitated feelings, by assuring her that Joe would be liberwated in a few days, and telling her to call upon him in the mortin-. Mrs. Wilson returned to her dreary home now rendered more cheerless than ever. That night the scanty supper was untasted, anil the hours of darkness passed away, without bringing slumber to her eyelids. CHAPTER VIII. Then stretched llis little armo, and called me mother. Wlhat could I (1o! 1 took tho bantling home,- 1 could not tell the ilnpr he had no mother.--CovuNT Bas1L. Winter was advancing. The winds whistled against the brick walls, or siglied dolefully alonfg the streets, and the sky bore th( dull grey hue indica;tive of the approach of a snow storm. Late in the afternoon, about four weeks after ftle incarceration of I1ol- bin and Wilson, two persons carne out of a squalid court running from Bedford st.,-one was no less an individual than Mr. Iodge Grundley, and the otlher was a woman of vigorous frame--though somewhat advanced in years--with a face evincing the posses- sion of a full metasure of passion and energy.--Th-e latter per- sonage we have alreadly referred to as old Mrs. Sharp. "I How long did you say she had been dead when you first got the child?"-inqulired Grundley. "i Most a Yvc;ar I ;1ts told." OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STRU ET. 21 "And her name was -- "Gra'mmerly, or some sich name," intimated Mrs. Sharp, coming to the aid of Grundley's memory. "You never heard any thing about the people who took the child when the mother died?" "Never did. Some was put in prison and the rest got scat- tered,-nobody knows wliere. People 'bout here, of'n leave, and come back years afterwards, but none of thiem ever turnedl up. "The first tinme," continued Mrs. Sharp, "I ever seed the child, a man had it in his arms, whllen the Browells-(that was the name of the family, I think)-was took up for kickin up a row while all hands was drunk. I never knowed any of 'cm. - I clame along that Sunday afternoon, and stopped to see what the fuss was about; the little crceter was cryin' itself most to death, so I kind. o' took pity on it, partickerlerly as one o' the women, who'd got a little sober, told me the little feller was an orphan, whose mother died in the house. I asked the man what he was goin' to do with the child, and he said he'd have it took to the poor- house, if nobody take keer of it. When I said I'd take the child, he asked me a great deal'o' questions, but I guess he found every thing parfectly sa'sfactory--(Mrs. Sharp said this with an air of dignity-elevating her head, and placing her arms a-kimbo) so he guve me the little feller, and I brought him up, until them bad boys 'ticed him awiy from me. he was a heap o' trouble to me though." "If this is the boy I think lhe is," said Grundley, "I will fully pay you for all the trouble you've been put to. Try to find( out all you can about him, and you'll lose nothing by it." This was what Mrs. Sharp had expected. She saw tl 1Lt her connection with Dick could be turned to a profitable account, and had, therefore, presented her case in the fairest light. The m(o- tives which had induced her to take charge of the - unprotected( child, it would be difficult to determine; but she certainly soon made him useful, and even advantageous to her, in the perflrm- ance of labors which were sometimes too much for his youthlful strength. In order to impress clearly upon'the mind of Grun)d- ley the important fact, that she was a woman of very tenler feelilgs, the circumstances connected with her first knowledge of Dick, were related to him when he reached the street, for the second time. Another matter was also repeated, so that it should be as clearly understood, that Dick had left his homne on account of improper solicitation, and not through bad treatment. Dick, however, had probably his story to tell. Mrs. Shaarp of course announced her perfect willingness to comply with the iesire of Grundley, that she should exercise all diligence in fathoming the mystery pertainirng to Dick; and Grutidley being convinced of her sincerity, departed, leaving her to her meditations and her plans. I' 1'll see Mary Wilson right away," said Mrs. Sharp, solilo- page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] '2'"TllHE HlOMELESS HEIR, tuilziing on entering llcr lr welling, but perceiving that manly house- hold I iiatters, which ha11 been ineglectedl in the course of the ollu or two that lh(ad elapsed during Grundley's visit, demanded illllllediate attention, she was compelled to defer her call uporl Mrs. Wilsol until the next Inorniing. Sle now busied herself about lher aflairs, but her thloughts ran almost exclusivley upon tlhe )est lnode of obtaining information concerning the origill of the reckless youth who had suddenly become of so much import- atnce. For some reason, she supposed that Mrs. Wilson knew, or had heard sometlhing about the boy's mother. This she had not communicated to Grundley, as she thought it would most advance her interest to keep the matter, as much as possible, in her own hands. "La me!" she suddenly exclaimed, as a thought .rapidly crossed her mind, 'I uwontder what's become of Mary Wilson, I hav'n't seed her about for some time. Things must go pretty hard with her just now,-Joe's being in prison don't mend mat- ters miuch either.-- wonlder if the poor things got any fire this coll ldight." But, whatever the situation of Mary Wilson might have been, it was, after all, of but little moment to Mrs. Sharp, whose new- ly awakened interest emanated from other motives than commis- eration. Her acquaintance with Mrs. Wilson, though not of very short duration, had never resulted in any act of kindly re-, gard to her poor neighbor. CHAPTER IX. lie i. a tman; an lihe will yield Like snow beneath tho torrid ray; And his stronai heart, though fiercely steeled, Before the breath of love give way.--MRS. C,. M. SAWYEtR. Hodge Grundley was now iwalking, alone in the great "plague spot" of Philadelplhia. His eyes wandered anxiously from side to side, and his counltenance wore an expression of care and un- rest. A change was coming over his hardened nature. As a boy, he had' known penury and privation in their direct shapes; as a man;, he had resolved and striven to acquire wealth, .come what might; and he had grasped the golden prize by crushing down the few noble impulses with which nature had endowed him. Given over to the grovelling and the base, his aspirations hall been for no divided aim, and his heart had known no divided worship. Mammon then held full sway over his entire being. Gould was God and everything, and humanity but dust and noth- ingness. Yet, in the mysterious workings of Providence, the goodl which mingles with the bad, even amongst those who are eatrly) "all evil," sometimes obtains a wonderful mastery, and rules the entire man. So with Grundley ;-his better nature was OR) LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. 23 bursting the bands which had so loln confined it, and was nc- quiring a strange ascendancy. Hisatnind travelled back through the waste of years. He saw, that in accumulating the means of existence, he had madly converted the means, into the end. His mother's sufferings and his early struggrles, the death of his wife, the strange fate of his only child, came up in memory before him, and now, securely clutchng the object of his life-long de- sires, an event had occurred, developing yearnings yet to be sat- isfied,-fearfully lessening the value of what had been gained, and as fearfully augmenting the worth of what had been lost. Grundley was brought from New York to the city, among whose wealthiest residents he now ranked, when but a child, by his widowed mother. The latter toiled in the very extremity of poverty, to support her son and herself, sometimes failing to se- cure by unremitting industry even a bare subsistence. On more than one occasion, the mother and child had been rescued from starvation by a benevolent gentleman, who had become ac- quainted with their circumstances. One appalling time, by Grundley never forgotten, for its very remembrance was a terror to him through all his after hfe, the relief of their kirsl benefi. - tor came just at the the moment to avert death from the com- bined effects of disease and want. But, gradually, with thie over- tasked woman, the energies of life wasted away, and she sunk to the tomb. Young Grundley, who had been engaged as an errand boy :about a year before his mother's death, was then apprenticed to a: respectable calling; but having no predilictions for a mdechanical vocation, and evincing a strong proclivity for the ways and pulr- suits of traffic, he obtained employment as a warehouseman (the only situation for which he was qualified) in the expiration of llis indcenture. Illiterate surly, and selfish, he secured but little ,s- teemn from those with whom he had intercourse, but, like Ulib:h Hoop, he soon learned to "be humble," and manifcstdd :,1 e(;a ger willingness-- To crook the pregnant hir,^,os of t'thknCi; Where thrift light fellow flWlninfr. When twenty-nine years of age Grundley married. One year after his marraige, misfortune overtook him,-The saving s Tf ht life were swept oaway by all unfortunate investment, and aseason of general pecuniary embarrisment and restricted business op- erations, occurring, he was thrown out of employment. He struggled hard to procure a position to earn a livelihood, but af- ter many fruitless and disheartening endeavors, he quit the city, to try his fortune elsewhere--leaving bellind his wife and an in- faint child in very distressed circumstances. A broad misfor- tune still attended him, but lie eventually succeeded in securing the object of his efforts. Hle then wrote to his wife, but re- ceived no answer. His occupations now absorbed his entire thoughts, and, after one or two more unanswered letters and page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] :4 TIIE HOMELESS HEIR, a few inquiries, he left his wife and child to their fate. After tliree years' successful labor, he concluded to embark in'business, selected Philadlelphi a as the theatre of his future operatives, and, beingo no longer able to silence the upbraidings of his con- science, he resolved to seek out hs deserted offspring and its helplcss mother. On arriviuf in Philadelphia, he commenced an active sejpth ; but neither his wife nor child could be found. A vague rumor reached his cars that his wife had wandered off in search of him--anlother, that she had died in one of the degrarded and penury-stricken quarters of the city.-The latter rumor, he, some months afterwards, ascertained to be true,-but the fate of his child was surrouded in mystery,--the sole report in relation to it was, that it had been taken off by some one, but no one knew where. Callous as was Grundley's nature, these occurrences -did not fail to make a deep and abidling impression upon him. The enor- mity of his unfeeling desertion of those whom he should have cherished and protected, r), up before him in all its turpitude. he felt that the death of his wife was chargeable to himself, and the fate of his child was the subject of constant anxiety. Ad- vertisements in the newspapers and other means were resorted to, for the purpose of eliciting information from every possible source, but nothing could penetrate the obscurity which hung upon the child's history. In the excitement of business, Grundlly learned partly to forget the lost ones, and success and wealth waited upon his ca- reer. Though memory was busy, nothing of moment occurred to interrupt the even tenor of his business life--which was his whole life-until his accidental encounter with Dick Sharp, in whose want-pinchted features, he thought he detected a resem- blance to his deceased wife. Various expedients were devised by Grundley to obtain in- formation about the ragged youth, but being a matter in which he felt a reluctance to enIgage the aid of a scond person, his efforts were attenlded wth mlore difficulty tlhan satisflaction. He was finally obliged to converse on the subject with a policeman who was familiar with the locality near which lie saw Dick. - On hearing a description of the boy's appearance, the officer knew at once who he was, and, remembering that Dick lived 'with Mrs. Sharp when he first came under his notice for some misdemeanor, Grundley was referred at once to that person. The result of Grundley's interview with Mrs. Sharp, is already partially known to the reader. OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. 25 CHAPTER X. What sights of ugly death within mine eyes!---SHAKSPEARK. "Mercy on us!" exclaimed SMrs. Sharp, as she looked out into the street on the morning following, her interview with Grundle'y, an(d saw that the ground was covered, to the depth of several inches, with the snows that had fallen during the night, and also -that the flakes were still descending rapidly.--"Ilow in the world(," she continued, uwill I get to Muary W ilson's this lmorn- in'!" But MArs. Sharp was not one who would let her interests suffer by any difficulty it was-possible for her to owroome.--Sho accordingly placed a pair of boots appropriate to the mnlsculine sex upon her feet, and, otherwise equipping herself to face the storm, sallied forth. The distance to Mrs. Wilson's house was. but short, and as Mrs. Sharp trudged on, resolutely defying wind and weather, she soon reached the spot. But the door and the shutters -of the single window were fastened, and the visitor essayed in vain to enter the house, or attract the attention of any one within by rattling the latch. We have stated that a poor laborer and his family occupied the upper room of the tenement;--ascent to their apartcmbnt was gained by a flight-of stairs in the rear, or rather on the side of the house, extending from the ground to a doorway in the second story. Determined to know why the lower portion of the dwell- in(r was closed at that. hour in the morning, Mrs. Sharp, withl some difficulty ascended the stairs, v Aich then looked like an em- bankment of snow, and entered the laborer's apartment. Tho mother and three small children were hluddled together around a small and broken sheet iron stove, from which a handful of coals gave out a degree of warmth barely perceptible in an at- mosphere-chilled by the wind and snow which penetrated through the crevices in the walls. Mrs. Sharp was no stranger to scenes like this, and, hardly noticing the appearances of destitution before her--inquired at once concerning Mrs. Wilson. The woman informed her that she herself had not seen Mrs. Wilson for the last three days, but was not aware that any thins had occurred to cause her absence at that time. "She can't be in bed?-Can she?"-inquired Mrs. Sharp. "If she is," responded the woman, " she must be sick,-for she always gets up soon." "Did you say you hadn't seen her for three days?" "-Yes, Ma'am, but that's nothin', Mrs. Wilson's a body that hasn't much to say to any one, and since her husband's put in prison I s'pose you've heard of that,) she keeps herself away from every one more 'an ever." D 3 page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] -Ju TITE HOMELESS HEIR, "Ilas she seed Joe since he's been in prison?" "Once or twice, I bhelieve." , "Iow doees sihe make out to ec times?' "It's ltard to tell. The 'I time I spoke to her she'd got sometlirn' by helpin' Mrs. Duggin do some sewin'. But Mrs. Dufrin's got her own troubles ju st now, and when she's worried she takes to drink pretty hard, you know." "Do you know for certain, if slie's got no fire or nothin: to eat t]i s mornin'?" inquired NMrs. Sharp with a quickness of utterance, revealing considerable anxiety, "I don't," answered the woman, "Mrs. Wilson kind o' proud ill her w ay, and never makes complaint, or tells anybody 'bout her misfrtins." ' Things Iowks very had," remarked Mrs. Sharp, "and must be seed to. I'm feerd the poor crecter's sick or somethin'." "Johnny," sai the laborers's wite callinrg to her little son, "o downll stairs, and see if 'Mrs. lWilson's at home. Knock loud at the door, so's she can hlear you." The boy obeyed his mother's ordler, and was soon heard rap- ring loullly; the noise ceased and the child re-appeared saying- "She ain't home, I knows, I ponnded thie door and shutters like everytling, and nobody come. I peeped through the key hole too, andt coull(n't see nothin' 'cause the kev's in the door." "4 The key in the door inside," vellelmently ejaculated Mrs. Sharp, greatly alarmed, " then the door must be broke open, for she must be sick, and can't crawl out of bed."-Rushing down stairs with a rapidity that scattered the snow in every direction, and even endangered her limbs, she gained the door, and pressed both hands against it with all the force that she could command.- W'ith Mrs. Sharp, one feeling had acted upon another, and a sense of being interested in the condition of Mrs. Wilson had' produced something akin to sympathy.-The door, however, yielded but slightly to the pressure, and overcome by her exer- tions, she was compelled to relinquish her efforts, and seek assist- ance. Going to the front of the street, she hailed a man who w as passiLrg, informed him of hier fears concerning Mrs. Wilson, and entreated him to force the door open. But this individual tlhought that the breaking open of a door was not an act to be perfirmed on the rather stranr,e supposition that there was a sick woman in the house -who needed assistance, and dreading probable and unpleasant legal penalties, he gave a very prompt refusal to the request of Mrs. Sharp, and left her to her own' resources. llcing an irritable woman, Mrs. Sharp was much exasperated at the iman's refusal, but passion gave energy to her determin- ation, and contracting her body, as it were, together, and bestow- ing no thought on the propriety or impropriety of the act, she threw herself against the door. The frail fastening gave way OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. 27 before the shock, and after one or two slight pushles, the door opened. She stood for a while in the doorway. The closed shutters prevented the full liglit of day fron entering the room, and only one or two articles were visible, and those but indistinctly, onl looking, around the apartment. But she felt an instinctive con- sciousness of the occurrence of something appalling , and on throwing open the sliutters, her eye rested upon a torn coverlet, on the wretched pallet in a corner of the room, which was alp- parently occupied by some person who had, seemingly, crawled under the covering, and drawn the bed-clothes tightly around hilm or her. A shuddering .icy sensation crept over Mrs. Sharp, but she approached the pallet and raised the covering-" (Gracious God!"- she exclaimed or rather shrieked, and fled terror-stricken from the room-all the firmness of. her nature overcome by the sight. An alarm was 'soon raised 'and the neighbors came runningl to the spot. The covering was taken froin the bed, and there lay Mary Wilson stiff and cold in death!-Iler eyes were opDel, fixed in the wild glare of hunger, the lower jaw liad fallen, the body and limbs were drawn together, 'and the flesh was shrunken. The ghastly spectacle sent 'a thrill of horror, throughl the group1 gathered around, and anxious questions passed fr'om one personl to another as to when the sad event had taken place. One lhad seen her at such a time-another at an earlier period, and a thrd had seen her but two days previous to the timhne they stood around her corpse, tottering from weakness towards her hoine.-Though the speaker knew not then, what was the, cause of her feeble step. But it mattered little now, wlen the life hlad passed away. Yet it was certain, that ere the first flake of the snow had been soiled by the touch of earth, the spirit of the sorrow-tried daugh- ter of poverty had taken its everlasting flight. "I wonder what's become of Mary Wilson?" was tihe ques- tion 1Mrs. Sllarp asked herself, as she thought of the contemplla- ted interview. In that high sphere wither she had gone-tlhe question could have been answered, and been answered iwell.- The "fire" in the " cold night" was not needed. The storm which spoke to shivering wretchedness of added suffering, brought no pang to her. Want had done its worst and best. The days of her mourn- ing were ended. page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 2', THE IfOM IL,:S I EI r:, CH APTER XI. The very soul of reason Ie troubled in me. Ilut thte boy- hretias. thot art acluai nted wittl rny (rriefs P';rtheDophill is lost, and L woulld ee 11him; For he Is like to somletilir I retlti)er A great while silc('e;-a 1oiiJ, lnr tiiie ago.-- FORD. "qr. S-lbarp returned hlotno :lgitnated ind dlis applointel.. The i,,1xpcet1,s ,ldeath of iMrs. \'ilsson lhad thllartedl hHe plans, as ir- f'rizil,tful seqlucl }lad1 divertedl the current of her thouoglits and f' clir iL, Wl Here'now to look for anly intelligence in relation to 1Pic'k's iparentage and e:rly iniifancy uniless to Joe Wilson-she was at a 1,o,s to concive. lFro I)ick hiliself, nothing could be ascer- t-inield-for tiC lbest of reasons-l}e kn(ws nothing;-and if he had b,(e n w(1 inforlmeil on the sul ject, M1rs. Shiarp was the person w'th1 w}lion Dick woull undellr no, circu'Istances be conmmunicative. Th't sole course of action whichh now suggested itself to her mind, was to tell (Grlnllel y of the occurrences wilch adtl prevented her froll oLta"iinig the desiredl ilnformattion, and apprise him of the ndlvat:,ge lilkely to result fi'omn sceing Joe Wilson upon the sub- ject. At the lnour in the afternoon at wlhich Grundley had told her t( c,111 upon tl inh iwhen ever sile ihabt ay ilbihg to oomnmuncate 5irs. Sl;Ilrp stood in llis preseI' ce. ":\Ay ciws about thhe boy?'" askled Grundley quickly, on the "st:tt )ie saw her. "I've been tryin' all I could to find out something 'bout hinm, buit I }lav'n't, 'cause the woarln's just died what could have told nme 'bout Dick when he was a baby and his mother too,-for she Ilmust a}lavet knowed el r." "W]iat iwas the woman's namne?" "Mrs. WNilson-M5Iarv Wilson." "Wi\lson," repeatedi G;rundley, his brow contracting in thought; --after pausing awhile he mnuttered to himself- Iumph!-'tis lquite a commIon namne though," and then continued aloud, "Are ,ou spure this womnn was acquainted withl Richard's mother?" "Yes, sir, I thnk so, for she seeHed to look after Dick as if she knowted more 'bout Iiimn tihan most people; an' it was her whto told Inme his mother's name was Grammerly, or something like it." ' What sort of a woman was this 'Mrs. Wilson?" i A pootr creeter who desarved to be happy, but never met with nothn' but sorrer. She was starvn' poor a11 her life, and died for want cf bread anti fire." "Starved and frozen to death," said Grundley not without a tone of sliglht pity, but still rather unconcernedly, as if Ihe thoughlt ORY LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. 29 tlhat such events, like diseases, must occur in the course of nature. ' -"Why " lie inquired!" had she no husband living?" Yes, sir, but heI's in prison." Mr:'s. Shal:p now relatot the cause of Wilson's illrisPonmltt, of whllich she had leard a tolerably correct report. 1ie iassutred Grundlcy tlat Joe wals no0 rufflan "-the formecr havilg ilntimated -an opinion to that effect, an(d c0oncluded by' adtvisigiii hilln to look to Wilson himnself for what his wife could no l,)(gcr reveal. Grunadley now iunquirel p-,rticuluvly into the derath of Mrs. UWilson, and learned thil horrible circumstances attenlillng i . TIhe Iprbable relation which existed between the unfortunate wo1:lan an d those who milight possibly prove to be his wife and soil, estab- lished a kind of claim upon his sympathies, and he therefore, resolved to notify thel Coroner that lie would have the remain s interred, and determined to offer immediately the bail requisite for the liberation of Wilson; in order that tlme wife miight not be consigned to the earth, without the husband obtaining the last view of her corpse. 5ri. Sharp received directions to deliver one or two messages, and Grundley proceeded instantly to execute the purpose!e had in view. ,Mrs. Sharp went to the desolate home of the deseased. The room was filled with persons, and the Coroner had just completed his inquest, and was about to take charge of the body for inter- mennt; but Mrs. Sharp plalced a note from G(ruvULey i\to \3w hand, by which he saw that he was relieved from the duty he had contemplated, and he and his jurors then retired; and also all the spectators, excepting one. Day was waning, and the light in the room was consequently very obscure. Several minutes elasped before Mrs. Sharp saw a figure crouching on the floor near the corpse-a close inspec- tion of which revealed the well known form of her foster son. Dick had heard of the death of the only person for whom hie felt any affection, while shovelling snow from the sidewalks. lie stopped his work instantly, though he was laboring earnestly witlh a view to pay his arrears for lodging--(being apprehensive of ejection from his sleeping quarters-which cost him two cents per night)-and in an almost incredibly short space of time, was beside his dead fAend. For the greater part of the year, Dick could have dispensed with a sheltering roof as an unnecccssary luxury, but the- inclemency of the season rendered it extremely needful at the presett timne.-Yet all was forgotten in his sorrow. He was manifesting his grief in a strange manner, by continu- all, drawing or moving his left hand over the forehead of the corpse-his right hand supporting his head. This monotonous ac- tion he continued without theslightest cessation, and without chang- ingt in the least the position of his body, or moving a muscle of his face. Mrs. Sharp spoke to him in the blandest tone that she page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 30( THE IIOMENLESS tIEIR, could a..sume. but he, pail no nttention to he1r Shle then laitl l]er hlanl ltfpon his shoulelcr, this caused him to turn his head sl,wly.- e C ianswerel iler siile with a scowl of sullen anger, dis- cernable even in the increasin, da:trkless, an(d grumbled out- ( JLeave me crlone." This injliunctiton, as he was ap)arently as intraeitihle as ever, hMrs. S1:harp dleemed it best to comply with. An ,unlertaker and two othler personrs--inale and feinale-- now(v entired(1 to make arrangtromennts for the butrial in accordance with ,!,.,-, fr, ,:, rmidllel11. Dick was re'.rlliredl to quit his place beside the corp[,e, anld dispatcellll tn atn (rr:tndl-the on!jict of which it w;I4 hlowever necess ary to inf;ornlm, hin of before he would go. F'llcl. (c'l:lirs, anlldl otlher articles of nec es-sary furnithlre, were bl-,rlloght in ; a fire was kindtledl on the hearth, and a vivid blaze so,(, a:ro'-e, senftlil its }riglht light thlrough the room. Those present, Mrs. Sha:rp halving left, attendllcl to their several duties; anrdi the ullusI: liveliness prestentcd a cheering contrast, with the silenrt glo(tlm w{h'ict hadfl ben prCevalent. Thie slightest touch from tlhe IlandIt of \ ealth Ihadt imparted a, gladlsomeness to the home of the tdealt1, unTknown to the holle of the living. The proper preliminary disposition was made of the corspe, and, in about two liour, the understaker aInd those who had conoe with him, wI tliltew, Ileavingll tlte bodly for the night, in the charge of Dick a,d one of Joe's companions. CIIAPTER XII. All suffering doth destroy, or is destroyed, Even by the sufferer.----BYRON. rrlanddev was sitting in a thoughtful posture in an apartment ,f his resilence. Though a widower and without a family-as lie hlad no partiality for the comforts of hotels and boarding ltouses, and was -but little calculated to endure annoyance and interference-he had fitted up a home for himself, and placed it il ch;arge of a housekeeper. The dwelling and the furniture- at ,least that portion in the apartment indicated,that the prevail- ing fashion for display had not affected the octupant or owner. Yet the room, though nothing in it could be called "'elegant" or "tasteful," contained everything conducive to comfort. Occasionally a word or phrase escaped from. Grundley, showing plainly that lhis mind was brooding upon the 'connection which the revelations of the previous day had with the subject which en- grossed nearly all his thoughts. But the more he reflected, the greater became his perplexity, and his mind at length relinquish- ed temporarily a topic which it could not master.:. Three or four of the morning newspapers were beside him. He .opened. one of them mwechanically, .nd his eye rested with indifference OR, LIFE IN: BEDFORD STREET. 31 upon the page ;--but suddenly a brief paragraph in the ' local" column attracted his attention, and lie read it with an earnest interest,-it was as follows:-- "F ound Dead.-A woman n-named Mary Wilson, living in the vicinity of Bedforld and Spafford. st., wns founl dead yesterllty morning at her place of residence. The Coroner held an iniquest upon the body in the afternoon. The jury rendered a verdict of "death from want and exposure." Such was the public announcement of an event which we have narrated. On real ing this para graph, G-rundley felt a consciousness of self-approbation for What he had done on hearn;lg Mrs. Sha:irp's story. True, it could not brin( backl life to Mry. WAilson, Inor render the sum of what she had suffered one jot the less; bilt it could take from destitution its most heart-rendling aspect, :,11d bring to the widowed husbadu all the consolation tht cou co cme from an earthly source. We have stated, that Grundley, on the afternoon of thoe dI:y previous, proceeded to execute his resolve to offer bail for the. liberation of Nilson. On appearing at the office of the com- mitting magistrate, and announcing his object, lie -was intformed, that in view of the character of the offence, and the time which had elapsed since the commitment of the prisoners without t trial, there would be no difficulty in obtaining the final disclm'arg not only of Wilson, but also of the other prisoner; and he was directed how to act in the matter. Grundley had not desircdl the release of Joe's comlrade, but as the opportunity to effect such an object presented itself, he embraced it thinking thiat it might possibly prove of advantage to him. Had there been any great obstacles to the liberation of Wilsoon and Holbin, he who was aiming to effect it, would not have found those obstacles insurmountable. The influence of a man of Grundley's-wealth the world knows--an order was immediately issued for the discharge of the prisoners. At the same hour of the' morning that we, have seen Grundley in the quiet of his home, Joe and Holbin emerged fromn prison. Their altered appearances were significant of diversity in tlhe physical effects of the confinement upon the twain.--Joe's heatlh had been much impaired before his incarceration, and hoe was now very feeble, and much emaciated. -Ilolbin, on the contrary, was more hale and fleshy than ever. The snow was about half dissolved; and the atmosphere was damp and chilly. Joe felt the cold air penetrate through his frame, and he at times, coughed incessantly. Holbin induced his friend to lean upon him for support, and, so very weak was Joe, that, occasionally, his companion almost carriedl him. As they plodded along, conversing on their' unexpected liberation, and wondering how it was accomplished, Holbin frequently cast an anxious side glance at Joe, and his h-t'd fe i tu'esstwre an vs pect page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 82 T ILE - 1[OMELES.: IIEIEP, of grief. ,L' knew--whlat as yet Joe didl not know-thlat Mary WilsonI w a;1 ,IctL1I. Ilavilig lleard ofit before it reached the cars of J,1, ,c thlloutlit it best tl;lat it shoul,1 not be coinlmunicated. to hll ;it the time. But now he was confident, that the sigllt of hs ,lc il wife would be a far greater shock to Joe, than to b, toldl of l,.r death. Yet lie could not tell hil now-and ,till, I;e s hrunk fromn the very thought of taking him to his \\hole,- ai,l vf t, .Ioe would ,o nowhere else, utless for somne reason lnore , s;tisfi;ctory than anyv that IIolbin could give. The harassinl- t,,olghtt s plroluced in IIolbin's mind by Ilia trying situation, were, Iowever, iriterrutted by Wilsop.- "Tom, my boy," said lie calmly, ': this is our last tramnp to- gether." Convinced of the truth of what the words implied, Ilolltn vais' for awhtile silent; but at length withl an effort replied "No, no.' Joe did not heed the reply, but broke the silence which fol- lowed by the remark-uttered more to himself than to Holbin-- "Strange! that Mary didn't come yesterday as she promised; but, (after a pause,) may be she couldn't, in a short time they reached the alley throurgh which entrance was gained to the house in wlhich Joe lived. As tlhy walked up the alley, Holbin trem- thled withl agitation, but he could not now turn back. Mrs. Sharp Co'a attention from the signs of mourning; as lie approa;chel er, lie gazedl at her with a look, which showed how greatly lie Wa:s surprisedl, and addressed lher in a tone, which accorded with the look--"Are you here Mrs Sharp?" fci Yes, Mr. Wilson," was her sole reply. As Joe was about enterina the house, the somewhat channed aspect of the room alarmed him, and moving towards Mrs. Sharp, lie askeed her; in the low quick, and half-whispered tone of fear, "Where's Molly!" Mrs. Sharp turned away, and was silent. Joe now looked more closely around the half darkened room, and ilis eve fell upon the coffin-his heart told him the rest- antd wittI one long cry of anguish, he fell insensible upon the floor. 1Mrs, Shalrp, Ilolbin, and Dick, who was also present, exert- ed theinselves to restore the wretched man and at length witi, success. lie then gave vent to his grief in a flood of tears, after which lie bec:atne somewhat calm, and exclaimed, in a tone of resignation, I 'Thank God! nothing worse can happen to me!" He,now approaclhed the corpse, anti imprinted a long kiss upon the cold lips of her, whom in life's most joyous moments he had taken to his heart, and through all their forlorn lot had loved. Mrs. Sharp was closely questioned by Joe concerning the cause of his wife's death, but she, desiring to conce:l from hm the horrid truth, told hiln that she had dlied in a "4 kind o' fit." He sat down beside the- coffin and leaned his forehead against it. Several neighlbors now came in for the purpose of attending 6 0-- - - ---------- O1Z, LIFE IN? BEDFOIID STREET. '83 the funeral, as the hour assigned for the burial, had arrive(d. A clergyman also attended, to hallow the funeral observances with the rites of religion. The latter soon arose, and addresse(d those assembled upon the solemn cause of their meeting. Ile called upon them to reflect upon the transitory nature of all earthly joys, even in life's brightest aspects and happiest condi- tions,-tand yet also upon the cheering fact, that earthly sorrows are as transitory as earthly joys. In the allotments of Provri- dence, suffering, want, and privation, wait upon man,-yet these are not in every view which can be taken of them to be deplored; ---for lwhom the Lord loveth, he chasteneth" and these afflic- tions if rightly improved, '" worketh for us a far more exceedinfg and eternal weight of glory." The man of God closed with i, prayer, invoking the blessings and consolation of Heaven upon the bereaved mourner, and asking fervently that the lesson of the ocasion might sink deep into the hearts of all present. I. In a little while the sad procession was on its way to the last resting place of the dead. Grundley did not attend the funeral, but his means had removed all appearances of destitution firom the solemnities. Joe and Dick, Mrs. LDuggin and IIolbin, were in one carriage, and though three of these were not '" mourners" in a technical sense, they were all really such.' But we do not intend to accompany the remains to the grave, as the reader'a own imagination, perhaps his own experience, can supply the mournful details.' , . page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 34 TnU nHOMELSS nEIR, CIIAPTER XIII. We both have backwalrd trod the paths of fate, 'lo meet again in life. -CoNonKve. Onr the return of the funeral, I1olbin left his friend for a plir,:t tirll, thut Mrs. Duggin Dick, and Mrs. Sharp, remained itil, Joe. IDick hadt become more affable towards Mrs. Sharp, if not mnor friendly and no longer manifested any repugnance :,^}ii reg'ntrd to entering into conversation with her. She had to,ld liitn about the grea;t interest Grundley was showing in rela- t i,1, to him, but he hear(d her story with unconcern, siimply ex- pl'ssirg1 hi q astonishment any body should busy himself about l iin is i he hadn't done nothin'.' Tile conmpany present prevented Joe's mind from being entirely cngrosscld n ith the sad lontliness of lis present lot and the un- kniown furniture in his aparment attracted his notice. "W here did thlese things come fromn?-" he asked. "I'hey was orderedl here," answered Mrs. Sharp, "by Mr. Grundlev,-- a gentlenman what wants to find out all about Richardl liere very bad. He's the one what got you and ttolbin out of prison too." "Grundley-what Grundley?"-inquired Joo, who remem- bered well the man from whom he had vainly solicited employ muent. \VlWhy Mr. IIodge Grundley, the rich merchant." "Ilmplossible!-" exclaimed Joe. ("He is a man who wouldn't aid, and couldn't feel, for any one." "Iie must have come to his feelin's then," replied Mrs. Sharp; wlho now related all the circumstances pertaining to Grundley, including his conduct on learning the death of Mrs. Wilson. "'Tis very strange," said Joe, still looking incredulous. "I 'spbse," continued Mrs. Sharp, " you and Mary knowed about the boy and his mother afore I got him." ," No I didn't, nor Mary either;-all she knew she heard from me.--But Tom did." In a few minutes Holbin entered. "Mr. Holbin," said Mrs. Sharp quickly "Did you know Richard's mother and him when he was a baby? "1 What! that bright 'un there? Well I did." Grundley had desired that Joe should be sent to him as soon as possible after the. funeral, but it was now evident, that Holbin could give more satisfaction than Joe; and the former was accord- ingly despatched to Grund!ley, after being told of the object for which he was sent. "Is your name Wilson?" inquired Grundley when he saw Hol- bin. OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. S3 "No sir, but I'm p'raps the man you want." "If you know anything about the early infancy of Richard Sharp and about his mother, you are the man I want." "Well, I guess," said Holbin, "I'm the only one can be found who knew ,em both just 'fore she died." "Did rou know the name of lRichard's mother?-" askcl Grtmllcy. '"I did, buf I disremember it. When I first heard your name it struck me as bein' somethin' very near like it-if not just th same." "How did you get acquainted with her?" "When she first -moved down our way, I saw her try to carry somethin' very heavy from the street to the up stairs' rooms whver she lived;--([ disremember what it was, for its been a long tim ago, and I've 'had many ups and downs since then);-well, it wa too much for her--for she was very weakl- so I took it up fo her. This was the first time I ever spoke to her. We got bette 'quainted afterwards. Besides I used to drop in pretty often t see tire Browells--the people who lived down stairs." "Was she a widow?" "No sir; She'd a husband living but he'd gone to Boston t look out for work." "Are you sure of that!"--asked Grundley with great earn estness and eagerness. "Sure," replied Holbin. "Go on." 'H tIer husband left her 'bout ten months 'fore I first saw her.- The child was then bout one year old-but I forgot to mention, said IIolbin interrupting himself--" that she told nme her husbanu used to work in'the 'stablishment of Samuel &Co." "That's enough! cried Grundley, greatly excited, and startint from his seat, "That boy's my son!" "What boy?"--asked Holbin. "The boy you call Richard Sharp." It was now Holbins turn to manifest surprise. "But "-said Grundley, much moved, " the manner of his moth ers's death,-how did she die?" "That I can't tell. I was away 'bout three weeks at that time I came back a few days after she died, and found the Browellh had took her child." "How long did she live in the neighborhood." "'Bout six months, I think." "What was her appearance?-inquired Grundley, fearing thai he might yet be imistaken.-What kind of a looking woman was she .' "She was 'bout the middle sizc, rather slender, light complec- ted, and had a cast in one eye.' "Still stronger confirmation, "said Grundley musingly; and then he continued aloud, "several advertisements referring to the page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 86 THE HOMELESS HEIR, childl were in the papers about one year after the death of its mother-"Did you not see any of then) '" "Andt if I ad;," replied Itolbin, "'twouldn't been mucl use, for learnin' and me never had any 'quaintance; I could'nt have read. ; wuol, neither could any one I went with, for Josey Wilson hadl'nt come down our way yet." l'Then Mrs. Wilson did not know my-Richard's mother." "N, sir; though she was allcrs very kind to Dick, for she took pity on him from what she'd heard 'bout his mother and him." Grundley expressed an earnest wish to see Dick, and being in- formed, by Holbin that he could bring the boy to him, he requested Holbin to do so. The latter repaired to the house of Wilson. Dick was still there. So also was tMrs. Sharp, who was the most anxious of all to learn the result of Ilolbin's visit to Grundley. Dick, saidl Holbin on entering," you're a luckydog. I :lhlcrs thought you'd come to comethin', if you did'nt get hung. owV what d,y'e tlink-you've got a rich daddy." "A rich (daddy!" echoed Mrs. Sharp-"and who is he?" "Mr lIodge Grundley!" At this announcement, the astonishment of Joe and Mrs. Sharp was unbounded; but Dick seemed not to have determined in what manner to receive the news. "o Dick," said Ilolbin, "youmust come with me to see him." "' Is he one o' the cross 'uns?" inquired Dick. "Oh! no! Richard," exclaimed Mrs. Sharp with a tone and look of affection greatly exaggerated, and thrusting herself before him she continued, "he's a nice kind man, and Richard! when you get to be a rich gentleman, don't, dear, forget your poor friends. Dick now proceeded with IIolbin to the residence of his newly found father. When he saw Grundley, he showed signs of retreating, for he had not forgotten the gentleman who was so angry with him a few weeks previous for rushing against him in the street. But Grund- lcy's demeanor allayed all his fears. "My son," said Grundley in a softened voice, advancing to- wards Dick, and placing his hand affectionately upon the boy's shouldcr, "come sit down by me." Dick submissively complied with his father's request. He look- ed up into Grundley's face with an expression, in which curiosity and doubt predominated;-but confidence gradually took the place of doubt. Having experienced but little actual kindness from the world, Dick was apt to mistrust its appearance wherever he saw it; but now, he felt that what he beheld was a reality, and not a sham. Affections long repressed, the warm gushing feelings of youth long pent up, were struggling to burst forth. Nature was claimuing her own, and breaking through the incrustation of a va rant and evil-surrounded life. In his wandering hours, Dick OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. had seen happy children at their play, and wondered vly Lve wnw not like them;--and now he began to think, that he too, nighll know a parents' love and care. The tears which lie between joy and sorrow, were in his eyes The new emotions swayed his soul, and he threw himself, in al childish simplicity upon his father's breast. Grundley embraced his recovered child, but it wao sometime befor either of them spoke. Holbin's presence was a restraint, an( Grundley intimated his desire to be alone with Dick, by requesting Holbin to call upon him the next morning. Holbin retired leavinl the father and son to converse together upon the past life of thi latter-and we will do the same. page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] M38 TRE HOMELEPS HEIR, CHAPTER XIV. Philaster, Oh! but thoul dost not know W hat 'tis to die! Bellario, Yes, I do know, my lord; MTis ,?t t thln lo he borxn-a lastin& ale p, A quiet restinSg from all care and strift, A thingr we all pursue. 1 know besides, It is but givinty o'er a ralme that must be lost BE AUIONT AND FLDTCnER. Several days had now elapsed since the restoration of Richard Grundley-Dick Sharp no longer-to his father. Few could have recognized in the pleasant-looking and neatly clad youth, the ragg- ed, uncombed, and unwashed boy of Bedford St. His father had rewarded Holbin for his information, and for the kindly spirit with which he had regarded the helplessness of Mrs. Grundley, by tlhe bestowal of a sum sufficient to establish Tom in a small busi- ncSs--a provision store. IIolbin choose this business for the rea- son-as he expressed it-that he " liked to have plenty to eat about llim." Mrs. Sharp was told by Grundley to render a bill fr Rlichlard's board during the period he remained with her. This she dild, but Dick's, or rather Richard's influence over his father, caused the payment to be diminished one-half, in consideration of t!he services he had rendered Mrs. Sharp, by innumerable labors performed at her bidding, and because he thought that the harsh treatment he had suffered, lessened the value of the protection. But, as the amount was still larger than any sum that Mrs. Sharp had ever before received, she was satisfied an'd gratified. Mrs. Duggin, for her many friendly acts towards Mrs. Wilson, was not for,rotten by Richard; and at the intercession of his son, Grund- ley had Joe Wilson, now suffering under a mortal illness, removed to a more comfortable abode. The hours of Joe's life were fast drawir g to a close. -"Grundley and Richard, wxith Holbin and Mrs. Duggin, stood at his bed-side. The dlying man extended his feeble hand towards Grundley, and faintly uttered his thankfulness, for what the latter had done to smooth his pathway to the tomb. "You don't remember, Mr. Grundley," said he, "the time I called upon you for work?" ,I do not," answered Grundley. Well, let that pass." "I've one 'question toask you, Mr. Wilson--" What was your father's name?" Ha IIrold Wilson.", "Merciful Heaven! exclaimed Grundley vainly endeavoring to repress his feelings.--"Did he live in Spruce St. about thirty- five years ago?" "He did. I was born there." OR, LIFE IN BEDFORD STREET. o( "Then," said Grundley with a solemn earnestness," Mr. Wil son, you are under no obligations to me, for what I have ,Alo fo you; for that I am now alive, I owe to your father, who rescuec my sole surviving parent and myself, from. a death from want ii its most awful form. Joe was deeply affected by this reference to his father, and, ii consequence, became so weak that conversation temporarily ceased. But in a little while, his friends were again summoned around him. "I'm glad," said he, "to see you who were with me in the sore titnes I've known, better provided for than you were. Don't crj for me," he continued, hearing Mrs. Duggin and Richard sobbing and seeing the tearful look of Holbin, "I'm happier now than yoi ever knew me to be; "His eyes calmly closed, and his voice sunl ivery low, as he uttered the last words. Fainter and fainter grew his breaLth; -a low whisper was heard--"Lay me by the side of Mary "-and the spirit passed. The wish of the dying man was granted, and Joe and Alarn Wilson in death slept side by side. THE END. *r .
