Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 January 1882 — “ONLY A NEWSBOY.” [ARTICLE]

“ONLY A NEWSBOY.”

'•Here’s your News!” Dver the bead of the little one whose sweet, sad, tremulous tones uttered that sentence, scarce ten years had passed; yet, brief a 3 they were, fearful were the traces left of their presence. Upon the low, expansive, swelling forehead, darkened by burning sunrays, heavy wind and rain, and shaded 4>y tresses of the deepest imaginable hue, which fell in reckless gracefuiufcss over the frail shoulders, were evidence of want, anxiety, and suffering sufficient for three-score years. The purely, delicately-carved lips worn lines—deep lines —cut by the unmistakable hand of sorrow, and the eyes, like southern purple seas, when wrapped in the woudrous graudeur of the moonlight, held in a look of hopeless longing that would have been pitiable even in age. Many months had this fragile boy trodden the crowded thoroughfare, the poor little unclad feet blistered, bleeding from the scorching sun of summer or biting cold of winter; trodden it from the early morning, with weary, throbbing head and aching limbs, till not one purchaser could be found. Bravely, without a murmur had he borne the jeers, taunts, blows of the low and vulgar and the scorn, reproaches, aud bitter uukindutss of the lofty. Often his only sustenance had been a “cup of cold water” aud a morsel of bread; yet it was not delivered in the name of the Nazarene. Uncomplainingly the heroic spirit battled with the clouds of despair wnich threatened to eniold him—battled,

while, oh, how feebly, burned in Bis life’s horizon hope’s star. Sometimes adown his cheek, grown thin and wan from disappointment, trial, anguish, would course tears, so wild and bitter, he wondered that their crystal hue was not crimsoned by his heart’s blood; but, witn a mighty will, worthy of manhood, they were suddenly dashed aside. She should not behold them —she, bis beautiful, augel-like, invalid mother, whose idol, next to her Qod, he was. Through her veins ran the fatal Cjison ot the destroyer, and with fieadh joy he watched the ruin he knew lyould be inevitable. The large, soft eyes, naturally radiant, at times glanced with splendor almost unearthly; the lovely roses blossomed upon 'the oval patrician face, till the child believed health returning to his beloved one; but deceiving and valueless were they! as the oeautitul fruit of the still, still sea, and that form which had glided through halls of wealth and lame, cynosure of all eyes, had lost its exquisite roundness, until it resembled nearly as much an inhabitant of the "city of the dead” as the living. "Sorrow’s crown of sorrow is remembering happier things!” Dwelling upon the halcyon past, when joy, deep as mortals know, was jhers; when father, mother, husband, •children clustered about her fondly, her soui, in its almost uueudurable grief, had often exclaimed: “My God! my God! why hast Thou forsaken me?”

That husband, on a far and gory field of Tennessee, after the desperately Idnght, vict irious battle, in all honor exchanged the beloved gray for the white uniform of the home of him who said: “We will cross over the river and rest in the shade of the tree.” Both parents and a lovely daughter soon after left for the land of the hereafter, and only one stay was left her. A stay in its fullest meaning was that noble, self-forgetting boy. By war and horrible injustice this delicate woman had seen.her elegant home and large possessions torn from her, all powerless to resist. Sometimes the monster granted her a respite from severe suffering, and at such times the ' dun light of her miserable tenement oom was extinguished only as morn- ' dng’s brightness crept through the ‘ 4reaTy window. The slender, wiry fingers, which were wont to execute with brilliancy the ravishing music of Mozart and ' Beethoven, and nestle among the fab- • ' ribs of Persia, now washed and ironed filthy linefi for common laborers! ' How could she have prevented it? Cotdd she have sewed for a livelihood? Had she done so, the remainder of her existence would have lengthened into months. * Where were the warm, influential hearts, ready, anxious to assist her in turning that rare genius for music to advantage? Alas! many who at her ** boartfhjfi “fared sumptuously every day,” ® received from her rich, lavish preserra! passed her with* a distant how orno recognition. During the terrible revolution, numbers haa passed into the silent land, who, had they lived, would have been unchangeable; some true ones were vet on earth, but so scattered that she know not where to hud them. •

” Pride Would not listen to her asking charity, aud she suffered on in sickness. z -Her health growing more feeble daily; starvation seemed almost at her threshold. Her child had often besought her to permit him to go, as a newsboy, but the thought of his going was so cruelly piercing. Oh, the humiliation! Her beautiful, gifted, sensitive darling compelled to traverse the streets to earn a sustenance. Reason triumphed over feeling; the “wolf’was almost entering. Into the world’s battle, with true, unflinching heart, rushed the youthful soldier, his banner emblazoned with “For Mother’s Sake.” “For Mother’s Sake” did he answer civilly, coarse aud brutish questions, allow the fangs of hunger to pierce him, rather than use for himself his earuings, and tried to persusde himself he was not weary when overtaxed nature, in clarion voice was proclaiming her injured right. This, to bfm, had been a more than usually miserable day. His mother had become far worse recently, and he had scarcely closed his eyes in sleep for several nights. The exacting physician declared that were he not paid something for his services they should be discontinued. The thought that his mother would be, without medical aii was maddening to the boy. Oh! how wildly he longed that the proceeds of to-day’s papers might be sufficient to satisfy the physician and prevent his neglecting his mother. / The Adjust, sun had reached its meridian, the great globe was pouring down almost streams of fire, and only two papers had been disposed of. How white and exhausted he looked. Even the lips were forsaken by every’ vestige of color,-

“What’reyoo putting on all those airs for, you deceitful puppy? Trying to make believe you’re sick, I s’pose — needy, too. I’ll bet you’re as well as I am. an’ have got plenty .of money. What you done with all you made from papers? —been sellin’ ’em along time. You’re trvin’ to beg, ain’t you? Don’t beg me 'I shan’t help to s’port yoff in your laziness. I’ve got no patience with low-down newsboys. Hold your head up, or I’ll shake you!” The elegant did uot shake him—probably he feared soiling his dainty gloves—but he took the tip of his rubyset walking-cane and rapped heavily the head, with its glory of ebony hair; the head where, in years agone, had rested in pride, love ,and blessing, the hands of many of eai th’s greatest and noblest. What cared he, the banker’s son, for caning a newsboy? He might have repeated the act, and ,the eyes,of the police would, accidentally, have been in another direction. A feeling of suffocation came over the weird shapes aud shadows danced before his eyes, and he knew no more. The gentleman walked away, twirling, in apparent satisfaction, his artificially dark and curled moustache.

“Git up’m here! What ye doin’— playin’ possum? Think somebody’ll come ’lon’ an’ fall in lpve\ witbt that pitcer-lookin’ beauty o’ yourn, an’ raise yu to do nothin'? How dar yu take up the crossin’, and yu nothin’ but a ragged newsboy? Git up, I say, or shore’s my name’s Dave Brown I’ll take you to the lock-up!” The man was executing his threat— Was half carrying, half dragging along the tortured little being—when eousciousuess returned. With wild und passionate eloquence he Sued for-re-lease—told of his feeble, lonely mother, suffering for even the comforts of life, and his own unfeigned illness. With a horrible oath the man released him from his iron grasp, saying: “If he ever cotch him ’tendin’ ter be sick agin (he knowed he was jis’ ’tendin’), he’d wish he’d a-never seed Davy Brown.” Did the boy weep? His heart was too near breaking. Mechanically his swollen feet paced the hard, hot street, keeping time to the despair march his soul was playing. A handsomely-dressed lady, accompanied by a youth, were nearing him. Nonchalantly the latter, lifting the boy’s tattered cap, aud staring boldly, mockingly into the fearfully white face, said: “Umph! you’d make a capital comic valentine; I've a mind to’sketch you.” The lady, flushed with shame and anger, exclaimed: “How could you act so contemptibly, so cowardly. Harry? I shall punish you severely for this!” Turniug to the boy, she kindly apologized for her son’s behavior, and delicately insisted on his taking some change she jbeld in her hand.

“But, mother,” returned Young America, “itdoes not matter much; he’s only a newsboy !” Tears, the first inmahydays, coursed down the pallid face. Save his mother’s, these were the only kinds words addressed the child in oh, so long! “Hope springs eternal in the human breast;” he forgot his mental aud physical suffering in the hope of alleviating his mother’s. . Taking the first car (he would have •vyi’ked, but too much time would have been consumed), he was going to his mother. - j , “Such nuisances should not be permitted to disgrace our city cars ! Raise your dress, Julia, or he might toil it—hateful, ragged little newsboy r’ The red lips of two superbly-dressed belles curled disdainfully, and they drew themselves as far away as possible from the cause of their remarks, lest he should contaminate them. r “Do you not see you arfe bothering these ladles, you chap? Gkt out there with the driver, and litre’s & nickel for you.” . p"*' The boy’s eyes, like artificial suns, literally consumed the insignificant wretch, who, astounded at seeing Such scorn and pride in a newsboy, sat like one s.tupifled, holding the' rejected nickel. " . v i The persecuted little one -went out with the driver; the place was crowded and an evil-looking, soiled stripling insisted he was taking to much. In vain he protested he was using as little space as possible. The ruffian called him a “lyin’ dog.” ” f There was a dull, heavy sound, as if an object had fallen; a sudden stopping of the car, and out oh the quiet ai£ went a wail in which wan concentrated* whole spirit's agony—a wail in which was but one word “Mother!” Upon the stony street, his heavenlike beauty annihilated by the horses’ feet, bis wild, floating locks wearing “redder stains than the poppies knew,” lay “the bright young being.” “Bigut bad, this,” said one pasaen-

ger. “Yes, rather, was the rejoinder; “but, to tell the truth, there are so many trifling, impudent shavers of his class, I’d like to see a number put out of the way.” “Look here!” exclaimed a person to a friend who ffat near him. “I saw that large boy push the bthew over.” “Did you?” was the repljy “Well, don’t mention it; he was only a newsboy, and our valuable titpre might be broken into. Of course the others think he fell over.” Two men took the mangled corpse to its mother. She spoke not. only sank low upon the bare floor and remained motionless. The men touched her, wondering at her stillness. Mother and sop were together in the land where they do not hunger**aud thirst; they had “come out of the great tribulation; had washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb;” so white that the habiliments of those who once feared contact with him, compared with them, would be as night unto morning; it was the home of Him “with whom there 'is no respect of persons;” the home where, dinned in his ear, would be no more “Only a newsboy.”