﻿306 PICTORIAL MISCELLANY. 



" It was a mile to any neighbor's house. Overcome with fatigue, 

 1 could scarcely rise, yet the thought that he might be there encour- 

 aged me, and I walked on. 



" The people seemed kind, pitied my sorrow, but knew nothing 

 of my son. They said Mr. Baker had failed, and left the town sud- 

 denly no one knew where he was gone. I went from place to 

 place, and wore out three pair of new shoes in search of him. Once 

 I traced him to Newport, and learned that a man had there put such 

 a boy on board a vessel to go to France ; but could ascertain noth- 

 ing more, and returned home broken-hearted. 



" Two years passed away. Unable to support myself without 

 money and without friends but one thing remained for me. I 

 went to B- - and cast myself upon the provision of the State, and 

 became an honest, industrious inmate of the alms-house. 



" Year after year came and went, without bringing me any tidings 

 of my son. I learned to live without him, and only thought of him 

 as a spirit in heaven. 



" I became tired of my companions in the poor-house, and hired 

 of Mr. Ford, our overseer, a little room over his corn-house. As it 

 was of no use to him, he let rne have it for sixpence a week. The 

 State allowed me but little more than this for my support; however, 

 I managed to get along. I could knit stockings for my neighbors, 

 and used to gather herbs for the sick. Besides, I did not need much, 

 tea, sugar, coffee, butter, and such like, I gave up long ago. Two 

 meals a day was all I allowed myself. 



" Cold weather was rather hard upon me, sometimes, it is true, 

 when the sleet covered my window, and the loud winds shook the 

 building around me. At such times, when I was most lonely, the 

 image of my little John was ever present with me, till it almost 

 seemed as if he were really there, sitting upon his low stool close by 

 my side, rubbing his thin hands (softly, that I might not hear him) 

 to keep them warm, and instructing me into the plans he had formed 

 for taking care of me when I should be old. But these thoughts 

 would soon vanish, and give place to happiness more abiding. The 

 widow's Friend forgot me not. His smile kindled gladness in my 

 room, till even the rough, knotted boards of rny apartment seemed to 

 join in praise with my heart. 



