Page:Unfading flowers.pdf/9

9 would have had some power to react: but as it was the pressure her was too great. She not forget that they had scarcely so much money as a shilling lcftleft [sic], and that hcrher [sic] old grandfather was  feeble to work. Upon her rested all the burden of their support, and she was now helpless.

On the next morning Ellen was better.—She could sit up without feeling dizzy, though her head still ached, and the had only slightly abated. But the old man would not permit her to leave the bed, though she begged him earnestly to let her do so.

The bundle of work that Ellen had brought home was wrapped in a, and this her grandfather took up to read during the day.

"This is Mr T’s newspaper," said he, as he it, and saw the title. "I knew T when he was a little orphan . , of , he don't remember me. He‘s prospered ."

And then his eyes went along the columns of the paper and he read aloud to Ellen such things as he thought would interest her. Among others was a reminiscence by the editor—the same that we have just given.—The old man's voice faltered as he read.—The little incident, so feelingly described, had long since been hidden in his memory under the gathering dust of time. But now the dust was swept away, and he saw his own beautiful garden. He was in it and among the flowers; and wistfully looking through the fence stood the orphan boy. He remembered having felt pity for him, and he remembered now at distinctly as if it were but yesterday, thirty years had intervened, the light that went over the child’s face as he handed him a few flowers that  to fade and wither in a day.

Yes, the old man’s voice faltered as he read: and when he came to the last sentence, the paper dropped upon the floor, and clasping his hands together, he lifted his dim eye