VOLUME XL
.11111MERS LOOK THIS WO;
Tin oppositionsay that in a short time the ground
will be ready to sow Oats, Burley, &e. Row
they know this wo are nut able to say, but this much
we will say, that whenever it gets ready, you had
bettor give us a call for ono of tho best Grain Drills,
and warranted at that, (no largo talk about refunding
money,) but if the article is not as represented, it can
bo returned, and all matters satisfactorily arranged.
Likewise, in duo time the grass will bo in order fur
hay making, and thou wo are prepared to furnish you
With Allen's Mower, a splendid machine for cutting
grass of any kind. And in addition, when desired,
We have also the combined Mower and Reaper, of
Manny's Patent, which is manufactured upon a dif
ferent principle from those made heretofore, and war
ranted to c ss and grain as fast as one team of
horses can draw.' . nd further, we have the Pre
mium Corn Sheller ~of ohigh county, and as there
has been sold a very large number in a short time
that have rendered universal satisfaci ion, we are con
fident in saying, that it has no superior here or else
where. We likewise have a mill for chopping feed,
which has bden tested thoroughly in different sections,
and all who have Witnessed its operations, testify to
the good qualities of the mill, and recommend it to
farmers as an article to save time, and likewise grain
in the amount which is yearly given to millers in the
shape of " toll." In short we have almost any article
which farmers require for agricultural purposes, such
SS Ploughs of utmost any pattern, Corn Cultivators,
Revolving Bay Raises, Hay Forks, Corn Ploughs,
Corn Planters, Lime Spreaders, Threshing Machines
and Horse Powers of different kinds, and all warrant
ed to give satisfaction. Repairing done in all the
different branches, on reasonable terms and at short
notice. Any person residing at a distance, in want
of any of the above articles, can obtain them by a
dressing the subscribers at No. SO %Ist Handie!!..'
, 411lautown,Ta. - SW E R &SABI.; ER.
'GRAIN DRILL REFERENCES.
Reuben Helfrich, North Whitehall: Charles Hen
ninger, do; David Beery, do; David Kuhns, Maean
gy ; George Beisel, Allentown.
CORN SHELLER REFERENCES.
David Boaz, Weseoesvillo ; • John Bortz, Cedar
Creek; Jacob Wenner, Lower Macungy ; C. ,t; W.
Edelman, Allentown; Reuben Gaelteubach, North
Whitehall.
FEED MILL REFERENCE,
Charles Sengreaves, Allentown.
Allentown, April 2.
REMOVAL
-OF
BREIMG,IRIGH&BREIMG
TO THEIR NEW
CLOTHING HOUSE.
BNEDIGH h DREINIG, feeling it no
imperative duty to accommodate - the public,
found it necessary to procure a more commodious
place of business, and accordingly erected a
PALATIAL CLOTHING HOUSE,
in Hamilton street, near Ikloser's Drug Store, of whlell.
they have just taken possession, being the largest,
most commodious, and best arranged building for the
business in Allentown. -
The proprietors of this Now and Magnificent cloth
ing Establishment, take pleasure in further announc
ing that they have also increased their tremendous
Winter Stock of Ready-Made
CLOTHING,
find are daily adding thereto all kinds of articles np
pertaining to Men and Boys' wear, which will be
,sold at extraordinary low rates, as they go upon the
principle that a " nimble sixpence is better than
slow shilling." They have no trash 'of years on their I
shelves, which they try to palm off for new sound
goods, but on the contrary, are superior in quality,
make and stile, to any establishment in the place.—
Give them a trial and you will find the.PALATIAL
CLOTHING .HOUSE is the place for everybody.—
Their winter purchases comprise entirely new 'lndite
nimble styles, such ns can not be found at any other
Merchant tailoring establishment in Allentown. Their
goods wore selected with the greatest care, and will
be made up in the latest style and fashion, and war
ranted to prove the lame as represented at the time of
purchase. Observe, that every article of Clothing I
sold by the proprietors of this establishment is of
their own make, and may be relied upon ns being I
good durable work. Among their extensive assort.
scent may be found, fine Black and Blue new style ,
Dress and Frock Coats, made in the latest fashion of
French and English Cloths, new style Business Coats,
of Black, Brown, Blue, Olive and Green Cloths, and
• plain and figured Cass.hneres ; Over Coats, of all
qualities, styles and prices, pantaloons. vests, and in
fact everything in the READY MADE CLoTIIING
LINE, from nn over-coat down to an undershirt. The
three great features of Breinig, Neligh & Breinig's
Store are,ll4 they buy for Cash, and consequently
can sell ceaper than any of the others; their goods
are made up under their own supervision, and last
though not least, thoy. sell them fur what th,y really
are.
Also, a largo stock of Handkerchiefs, Shirts, Col
lars, Winter Hosiery, Under Shirts and Drawers of
fill kinds, and everything in fact that is usually kept
in stores of the kind. Cull and see before you pur
chase elsewhere, as they willingly show what they
have.• They are satisfied that all their goods bear n
close examination.
December 10,
FURS! FURS! FURS!
Aro all tho go now-a-days, and. ve are
/In
determined not tole behind the titne.t.—
Conpequently we have procured a very
large assortment, direct from the best inannfneturers
in Now Yorit'eity—where Furs ore got up in the most
fashionable style, and at the lowest rates. Our as
sortment is composed of all the styles now in use—
ouch as . ~
Sable Victorines, Tippets and Capes,
Steno Marlin, . .
Fitch',4 1(
Imitation do. ,i II
Rock Martin, ,i ~
Siberian Squirrel, " 41
Brown Coney, "
• Black do. i< ‘‘
do. Lynx, ,‘ a
. Children's Furs of various styles.
Gent's Fur 'Collars, Caps and Gloves.
11Lbi' . We'linve enlarged our ELM( of Boots
•
li.
and Shoos and Hats and Caps, suita
ble for the FCIIBOII. Our stock of Over
Shoes is particularly large, comprising all the various
makes in the market, such as India Rubber, Buf
falo, Calf-Skin, Felt, Web, &c., kii. ',nines and Oen
geinen in want yf any of the above articles, will do
nen 144 examine our stock before purchasing else
where.
All tho above goods sold at Wholesale at a liberal
discount to merchants in the country.
YOUNG k LEH,
No. 45 East Hamilton Street.
Allentown, December JO, MG.
OLIVER,
ATV 01 TAX IVY ILA AV
UFFIbE' In East Ha milton street,' rtrly oppos i tt
Beaton AmaricanHotel. •
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFF,NDERFER AT ONE'DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER ANNUM.
THE DISCARDED DAUGHTER,
OR, THE REVERSE OF FORTUNE.
(Concluded from our last.)
There seemed to be a new life infused into
the kneeling wife and daughter as he spoke, for
she sprang to her feet and gazed firmly into his
face.
- -
'Do I hear aright ?' she uttered ; can such
words fall from my father's lips ? No ; you
were right—you are not my father. I will not
leave him, no, even if I die with him ! Leave
my husband to perish—unattended, uncared for
—never !'
Then reap the reward of your folly,' was
the merciless reply, and share his sufferings
As be spokehe threw himself into his sent,
and motioned her away. There were no more
relieving tears for her ; the fountain of her
heart-spring was effectually sealed ; and with
a face of marble paleness she turned to leave
the room.
' 0, that my sainted mother were alive !' she
involuntarily uttered aloud, as she reached the
door, ' she could not witness Ler Alice suffering
119231
Why did that proud man start when he heard
those words ? Perhaps the gnawings of a
_ Italy conscience were already commenced.
CHAPTER 111.-A STR ANGF.R'S CITARITT
As Alice emerged into 'the cold air, and
heard the door of her father's house closing upon
her, she felt that hope was quite extinct ; and I
were it not that the helpless ones at home were
waiting anxiously for her return dependent for
very life upon her efihrts, she would gladly
have laid down her life as a burden too heavy
to be borne. Faint and weary she turned once
more into Broadway, that great pulsing artery
of the city, nearly sinking to the earth beneath
her load of grief and misery. The trying
scenes which she had passed through doling
the. past hour had almost deprived her of rea
son ; and as she walked clown the street her
head was bowed upon her bosom, and she heed
ed not the few persons who passed her, nor
stopped to solicit alms.
Thus she continued on until she reached the
corner of Anthony street, when, a vision of
the hopeless condition of those at home again
rising before her, she pauccd, and murmured
to herself :
=
I must not return yet. No, no—l cannot
appear before those famishing ones with noth
ing to relieve their wants. I will make one
more trial, and if that fail.' she continued, rais
ing her eyes to heaven, if that fail God help
us!'
She cast a hurried g7ance up the S treet, and
as she did so, beheld a muffled figure approach
ing,•upon the other side. She quickly crossed
the street, and wailing beneath the light of a
lamp until he was within a pace of her, she
stepped directly in front of him and exclaim
ed
' 0, sir, if pity can move your heart, pity
and assist me. lam dying of cold and hunger.
My husband is very ill, and my helpless child
ics in vain for bread. Since yesterday morn
ing we have not tasted food. .Help, help, as you
hope for heaven
The man, at first, was about to thrust her
rudoly aside, but ere she had concluded 'he
seemed fascinated to the spot : for there was
something in her tone, in the, frenzied look of
her uptufned eye, and in the violence of her
words that spoke of such utter desolation and
despair that his attention was irresistibly
ar
rested.
• Can this be true ?' he littered.
There was a kindness in his look and tone
that ,spoke to her heart of hope.
' Indeed, sir, she replied, ' I have not told
you half we have endured.'
• Then your story is a fearful one, indeed.'
' Ah, could you but look in upon the place
where we reside, and with your own eyes be
hold to what extremes of poveky we have
been driven you could not doubt the truth of
what I say.'
' Is it far from here where you reside ?'
'But a short distance—justdown that street,'
she said, pointing with her finger down the
I dimly lighted and gloomy avenue opposite.
'.I will accompany you home,' said the
stranger, as he turned in the direction.
0, sir, may God reward you for-dour kind
ness.'
IMB
' I shall be amply rewarded for serving you
by mi. , own conscience: You must not perish
for want of assistance.'
We shall owe you a debt, nevertheless, that
cannot be repaid.'
Lead on.and I will folloiv. Every moment
is precious when fraught with life or death.'
With a joyful heart Alice turned to recross
Broadway, tho.stranger walking by her side.—
Ho noticed the thin and scanty garments which
served to cover her slight and shivering frame,
and generously taking from his own shoulders
the warm cloak which enveloped him he threw
it about her, remarking,
' Draw that around you, madam.'
0, sir, this is too great a sacrifice of your
own comforts,' she exclaimed, as she endeav
ored to make him retain it..
Nay,' lie replied, resisting the efforts, ' you
are very cold ? and need its protection more
than I.'
Allentown, Pa., February 4, 1857.
With a murmured blessing for his kindness two large, round drops, and rolled slowly down
She hurried onward, her protector now walking i his cheeks.
by her side, while, at her request, she related, I Surely, Mr. Alton, after all thy display of
as they went, the history of their marriage and Ihard-heartLdneas, a good angel still hovered
subsequent life. They had continued down I above thee, and with a touch of its•heavenly
Anthony straet until they had attained a close ; wand drew a flood of water from thy soul.
proximity to the Points,' that great hot-bed I ' Strange !' he exclaimed, starting up as he
of crime and profligacy, when Alice suddenly' spoke,' that I should be thus moved at what
turned into a narrow alley reeking with filth, has passed. I had thought to forget her. But
and a moment after entered the low hall of an ! her sudden appearance here to-night—that np
old, rickety building, in the last stages of di- I peal for aid—those looks of anguish—all seem
lapidation. The stranger had followed unhesi- ,to forbid it.'
tatingly in her footsteps. ; He arose and paced the apartment, musing
This way, sir, if you please,' said Alice, as to himself as he moved, and striving to subdue
she turned to enter. the emotions which held possession of his heart.
I will follow,' was the reply. A most Bat all in vain ; for a few moments he resisted
miserable place, truly.' , an inclination which had seized him., and then,
' It is, indeed ; but you need have no fear yielding to the impulse which he could not con
now. You-will soon see the truth of what 1. , trol, he advanced to Ale table and sprung a
have told you.'
I never fear in doing an act of charity,' he
said, as he entered behind her.
tp,t wo flights of bonding, creaking stnirs
they passed, and through a hall shrouded in
darkness. Groping her way along, the woman
at length laid her hand upon the latch of
door, which yielded'at once to her touch and
both:entered.
By the light of a small piece of candle, which
was burning upon the bare shelf above the
empty fireplace, there was discovered to the
gentleman a scene of misery the like of which
he had never.before beheld: Al, the further cx
tremity of the room, -bpon a bed composed - Of
mere rags and straw, lay a man whose sunken
eyes and hollow cheeks spoke of long continu
ed suffering. By his side reposed a sleeping
child of scarce three years. The I'oolll was
destitute of furniture save 'a couple of broken
chairs, an old table, and a few other almost
worthless articles.
As the two entered the sick man raised his
head and glanced quickly toward the door.
Muggy, dear,' he feebly uttered, ' why have
you stayed so late ?'
' I have been trying to obtain money,' she
replied, advancing to his side, ' and had almost
given up in despair when T arrested the atten
tion of this kind gentleman. See, Allen, he is
here, and promises to a'ssist us.'
Thaiiks, tlranlcs, generous sir,' faintly said
the husband, turning his eyes upon the stran
ger : if I live I will ono day repay you for
your kindness.'
Speak not of that,' replied the stranger,
' you need immediate assistance. I had not
thought it possible that such misery could exist
in the heart of a clu istian city.'
' Indeed, sir, we - have sufficred bitterly.'
' I believe it. You must be assisted without
delay. It is too late to remove you to-night,
but what can lie done shall be to relieve your
immediate wants. A warm fire and food must
be procured ; here is money sufficient for every
purpose. Can you obtain what you will need ?'
he inquired of the wife.
' 0, yes, and near at hand,' was the reply.
' Then do so, and tomorrow I will call and
see that you are removed from this dismal
place. Be assured I will not forget my prom
ise ;' and amid a shower of blessings from the
grateful pair he turned from the spot and ,re
traced
his steps toward Broadway. :
In a short time. thereafter the wretched;
apartment which he left presented a scene of;
comfort which had long been absent from the
place.
CHAPTER IV.-CONTRITION
When the daughter had left the room Mr.
Alton sank back into his chair with no enviable
feelings stirring his bosom. Rage, which had
at first alone influenced him, gradually sub Si
ded, and 'the last words which his wretched
and despairing daughter had uttered, upon
leaving the room, still rung in his ears
0, that my sainted mother Were alive !'
Why did that sentence recall so vividly the I
scenes of his former years ? Before his imagi
nation came up the picture of his beloved wife,
even as she appeared when standing at the al
tar, with a look of trusting afnction ; and then
he seemed to see her form as it lay stretched
upon the bed of death, her lovely face all pale
and cold. He stood again, beside her, her
bloodless hand clasped tight in his, and there,
too, giving.way in the full intensity of childish
sorrow to her grief, his beautiful young daugh
ter stood—that daughter whom he had but now
driven forth into the cold night air, destitute
and almost dying.
Sitting thus, the glow of the warm fire fall
ing full upon his face, his head reclining upon
the velvet lining, of the chair, and his eyes
closed, he found it impossible to resist the
crowd of memories that stood revealed to his
mental vision. A feeling of tenderness over
came him as his thought still lingered around
tho beings whom he had so loved; and a shade
of remorso flitted over his countenance. For
now his own fait-haired, beautiful child, whom
his darling wife, with her dying breatlil-dig
confided to his care, was a - houseless w
through the streets of that great city 4
Pico to pride ; while ho, in the enjoy
every comfort that wealth could pro:my), had
not a want. On a sudden, while reflections
like thesevero passing through his mind, there
gushed from between the closed lids of his eyes
Len.
The same servant who had announced his
daughter answered the summons.
' James,' said Mr. Alton, ' do you think the
young woman who was here a short time since
has left the vicinity ?'
Yes, sir,' was the reply:
' You sfo." her, then, as'she left the place ?'
"1 noticed, merely, that she passed rapidly
toward Broadway.' .
InUced ! Should you knOW her again, think
you, we i c you to meet her ?'
0, yes ; I remember her features verydis
tinctly.' .
'Dien hurry into the street and follow the
direction which she took. Find her if possible
and bring her back. Make baste that she may
not escape you.'
With an air of vexation the servant proceed
ed to obey the commands he had received, and
in a moment after left the house. Again Mr.
Alton seated himself and impatiently awaited
the return of his Messenger.
It is singular,' ho murmured to himself,
his thoughts following their former train, ' it
is singular how vividly the appearance of Alice
calls up the slumbering memories of the past.
It is now three years since I cast her forth with
a malediction, vowing never to see her more.
My pride revolted at the thought of one like
him--her husband—becoming a son of mine ;
and I have striven ardently to banish from my
heart all feelings of affection—to sever all ties
that existed between us. But it cannot be ;
must yield at last. Pride, wealth, ambition--
all are insufficient to recompense me for the loss
of her, my daughter. And now, although my
angry impulses forbade me to forgive or assist
her, when so suddenly she appeared before me,
now that she is gone, reason has returned to
me, and I feel desolate without her. Yes, I
cannot hide from myself that I love her still,
and the natural impulses of the soul will and
must be obeyed. I will find her—forgive her
—lake her once more to my house and heart,
f.,r I cannot endure the recollection of her suf
ferings longer.'
Ile once more started from his seat, and
throwing a heavy cloak about his shoulders,
hastily left the apartment.
' I will seek her myself,' he uttered aloud ;
• she must be near at hand—she cannot have
yet returned to her *retched husband, if, in
deed, they arc so destitute as :die stated.'
Leaving the house, he quickly reached
Broadway, and for nn hour he wandered up
and doWn that great thoroughfare, casting a
sharp glance down every alley and cross street,
and peering into the face of every poor object
he met, whose appearance resembled in the
least that of his child—but all in vain ; and, at
l e ngth, with a depression at heart to which ho
had long been a stranger, he turned his foot
steps homeward.
• But may not James have discovered her,'
he suddenly exclaimed ; ' perhaps she is even
now nt home.'
The thought inspired Mtn with renewed hope,
and he hurried forward with greater speed.
.As he entered the.house lie met his servant
who had but just returned in the hall. James
replied to his master's look of inquiry with v.
shake of the head.
I could not find her,' he said, ' although I
traversed Broadway to the Park, and several
side streets where I thought it mostlikely she
would frequent.' •
With a sinking heart Mr. Alton passed to
his apartment. There, for a long time, ho sat
with his faco buried in his hands, reflecting
upon the strange events which had transpired.
' I will yet,' he uttered aloud, after a long
silence ; ' I will find her if within my power.'
' But,' ho added, while a shade of agony
crossed his features, ' she spoke of actual star
vation. What if it be too late !'
CHAPTER. V.-THE IVEALTRY DAUGHTER AN
THE BEGGAR FATTIER.
Our seen now changes to Philadelphia.,
Ten years had passed away since the night
on which A ce Darnley had sought her father's
o s wit charity ; and the eve of another
'lre v Year had approached. The night was
col and tempestnous—the piercing, wind driv
ing ho snow and sleet through the air, and
'il
hurli g it to the faces of those without. .
It was T early ten o'clOk when an old man,
poverty-st token' and in . i gshis form bent
low bailee h the , eight o --
misery rather than
r - dorer
a sacri-
years, was slowly moving along Market street. ingly. ' Draw nearer still. There,. seat your
pausing now and then to let his longing eyes :•self and when you aro warm you shall receive
feast upon the tempting array of delicacies, food'
which were invitingly displayed in the win
dows of such shops as yet remained unclosed.
Many a sigh he uttered as he passed along,
and once or twice, a broken exclamation of des
pair fell from his lips.
Turning off from the main street which he
had been following, he proceeded along appar
ently unconscious of the course he was taking,
until at length he found himself wandering
along Walnut street where, finally, his strength
quite exhausted, and his limbs benumbed with
cold, he sank down•upon the marble steps of a
neat but elegant dwelling, so many of which
adorn that portion of the city.
' A few years ago,' he muttered to himself,
as ho drew his shrinking form more closely to
the side-wall, to protect himself from the
searching wind, ' a few years ago I would have
deemed it impossible for man to reach so' ex
treme a state of destitution in this christian
land: But now, I myself am forced to drink
the: bitter dregs of poverty, rendered doubly
bitter by the reflection that I doomed her—my
poor - girl—to a fate as pitiable. 0, that I had
proved myself a father when she sought my
prote4on from the dread enemies who now
torment me. 'llad I so done I sho . uld not at
this hour have been a wandering outcast upon
tho world, friendless and alone, with no gentle
hand to soothe the declining years of my life
with a true daughter's tenderness:'
A sob burst from him as he ceased to speak,
and two largo tears rolled down' his aged
checks.
Bat,' lie continued, his yoke tremulous
with emotion, ' justice is being meted out, and
a merited punishment is inflicted upon me in
expiation of my crimes.'
• Why do you weep old man ?' •
The vagrant quickly raised his eyes, and srw
standing before him the form of a man yet
young in years, richly apparelled, and with a
noble and intelligent face. A look of sympathy,
too, was plainly visible upon his features.
Why do you weep ?' he repeated.
The tones of the old man were husky and
tremulous as he replied—
' I. weep over the follies of a lifetime—over
the effects of a false pride, and the crimes which
it has entailed'.
' A strange reply, truly,' said the young
man, whO appeared suddenly to have co
a strange interest in the miserable boil
ME
' But no more strange than true.'
' You are guilty then of crime?
' Yes clime of the heart if not of the hand.
Poverty, distress, remorse, and a thousand evils
are the effect.'
' Are you in want ?' inquired the gentleman
touched at his tone of melancholy.
Since yesterday morning,' was the reply,
• I have not tasted food.'
' Great 'Heaven ! can this be true ?'
' You seem surprised ; 'but I utter no word
of untruth.'
' hen arise and come with me.. Such mis
ery Shall not exist when in my power to avert.'
Thanks, thanks, good sir; may heaven re
ward you for the generous action in behalf of
one whose sands of life are almost run.'
'No thanks now, but come with me. It is
fortunate you paused here upon my steps.'
• This then is your residence ?'
•It is.' And he raitg, the bell as he spoke.
A moment after the door was opened, and
the two men entered.
Within an inner apartment was seated a I
lady yet young in years: engaged in- reading,
while beside her sat a faii-haired boy of some
seven summers, his howl resting upon her lap..
At the entrance of her husband the lady quickly
arose, with a glad smile of welcome wreathing
her beautiful face, while-the. boy ran joyously
towards him and clasped his hand within his
own. It was a bright and happy home-scene,
and the eyes of the o!d man who had paused
in a humble attitude at the entrance, lighted
up for a moment as he witnessed it ; and then
as a thought of his own desolation returned to
him his eyes became dimmed, and a heavy sigh
escaped him. His mind, in ono moment, had
travelled. backward twenty years, and he be
held his own wife, as lovely a being as the one
before him, and—he started—oh ! how won•
derfully like her, greeting him affectionately
upon his return from the duties of the day.—
And then, as quickly the vision .vanished; and
he was a pauper, again. No wonder it called
up a tear.
',Maggy, dear,' said the gentleman, sudden
ly recollecting . the old man, ' I have hero ono
whose situation should
,excite. our warmest
sympathies—an aged man in the extremest
destitution. For a whole day has ho not tasted
food.'
Indeed,' she replied, glancing at - the object
of her husband's remarks, you have done well
to bring the poor man .home with you. Ile
shall receive assistance.'
Sho, too, was strangely affected at a sight of
the old man's features and she addressed him
kindly.
•
Como forward to the fire,' she said ; ',yon
must be very cold. It is dreadful to be a home
less wanderer on such a night,' she added mus.
May Heaven's choicest blessing's rest upon
you, madam,' he uttered in a fervent though
tremulous voice, gazing with earnestness in her
face. "nem are few—too few, alas !in this
world, possessing your spirit of kindness and
charity. Porgikc me for gazing so rudely upon
your features, but the sight of yon recalls ono
whom I loved long ago. I have not been
ways thus. A few sholl years agol had wealth,
a fair wife, a loving daughter. The wand of
destiny has touched me, and everything is
changed. All aro gone—wife, daughter, for
tune.'
Ile bowed his head upon his hands and wept
silently. The throng of memories that arose
seemed to•open the fbuntains of his heart.
Indeed,' said the lady, in a soothing tone
yours must have been an eventful
of voice,
Mil
' Eventful ! alt, yes. And oh ! how sad has
been its course fur the'past few years. Yours
is the first kind voice which has greeted my ear
fur many a day,' he eßclaimed, turning to. tho
gentleman, land you must pardon the emotion
exhibit. Yoitr look, lady—yoar tone of voice
--every thingreminds meof one wh . ', perchance,
is yet a wanderer like myself. My daughter !
oh, my daughter. Would I had died crc I spoke
the harsh words which made you an outcast.'
There was such an expression of agony in
the old man's tone that he drew a tear of sym
pathy from his hearers:
She is not dead then "?' inquired the lady at
length
1 know not,' lie replied ;
hope she lives.'
And why did she leave you ?'
I wild tell you all. Once I was ono of tho
wealthiest men of New York, with a loving wifo
and daughter. Death robbed Inc of one, and
my own insanity—for so I will term it—depriv
ed me of the other. My daughter, a few years
since, married against my will, and I drovo
her from me. The one she wedded had sought
her hand of me, but I dismissed him with in
sult, and without my consent they were uni
ted.'
A glance expressive of astonishment passed
between the gentleman and his wife. The old
man continued—
' Months passed away When one day my
aughter appeared before me, and craved my
assistance. Her husband, unable• to obtain
employment, was reduced to the lowest stage
of poverty, and could not furnish food even for
his family. Blinded by passion I denied, her
any aid, and drove her forth from my house.—
A long time elapsed, when, one winter night—
such a night ns this—she again appeared be
fore Inc, and importuned me to save her and
those whose destinies she share 1 from starva
tion. Pale and- emaciat4l, driven to the last.
stage of suffrring, she appealed by all the ties
that once bound us, to secure her from despair
and death. My first emotions were injured
pride and anger, and I thrust hei forth again
into the dreary night, without relief. 0, how
I have cursed that hour !—how I have repented
that fearful wrong !' .
As the spaker's eyes glanced towards the
lady, he saw with surprise her face buried in
her hands, and tears falling through her fingers.
r ig before
-e7
A few words more will suffice,' added the
old man. My daughter, on that night, had
not left mrpresence long before an entirely new
feeling sprang up within me. I Saw the guilti
ness of my course: and inspired with a zeal to
repair the wrong I had done I hastened out in
search of my poor child. My search was vain,
and from that night I have not seen her.'
The lady arose, as lie ceased speaking, and
stood before him.
Despite your miserable appearance,' sho ut
tered, I cannot be dcceii•cd. Tell me, what
is your name ?'
' Thomas Alton.'
I knew" could not be mistaken !' she ex
claimed with a glad cry. 'Do you not know
me father ?'
The old man sprang to his feet with a look
of surprise.
No—no ! it cannot be !' he cried. • ' And
yet—'
I am your child, Margaret !'
There was a scene ensued which cannot be
described. Wild words of joy—greetings and
suppressions of thanks—tears both penitential
and forgiving—warm and fervid embraces—all
,followed. And when at length their first trans
port of joy had somewhat subsided, the father
told his now found children the history of his
misfortunes—how alter his daughter had visit
ed him, he had sought in vain, formany months,
to find her out—low before a year had passed,
heaty losses had befallen him, until eventually
he became a bankrupt and a beggar—how for
mer friends shunned him, and all refused hint
aid, till he was forced to beg the very bread he
ate—how he had passed from place to place,
and had at last—that night—happily como to
their own house. •
And she, in return, happily unfolded to him
the story of her trials, and how on the night
she had parted from him, she had met the gen
erous stranger who proved to be a Phibldelphia
I merchant, and had, after the :recovery?: her
husband, taken hint into his employ and'atiil
- delta,. Two years passed and. ho had • died,
leaving her husband a portion of his vast wealth;
and firmly established in business. ,
Add thus time glided on, till the city cloaks.
lba I told the hour that ushered in the glad New'
Year. The day that folloived was the happiest
to those three' f any that had passed for years,
an 1 many more scorned destined to gladden.
their hearts. - • •
NUNBEE. , AB.
• but. I hardly tiara