A Sympathetic Link

by A. Ehnenger De Friese

It was one of those cold, gray, cloudy days which often usher in the month of November, that I was briskly walking up Broadway, imagining how nice and cozy I should soon feel, seated near a glowing fire, when I was arrested by a child’s voice asking for alms.

The supplicant’s face was pinched and blue from the cold atmosphere, and his limbs quivered, for he was dressed in thin cotton clothes, which afforded but slight warmth to his frail looking body. It was not an unusual sight to behold a beggar even more poorly and thinly clad, but it was uncommon to be addressed by a mendicant, however small, in such pure, clear accents, and in an innocent, child-like tone. I drew forth my pocket-book, and to hear the sort of answer the boy would make, I asked:

“How much will do you, my little man?”

“Twenty-five cents, madam, if you please.”

“A very modest sum indeed,” I replied; “but I have nothing less than a fifty cent stamp. Can you make change?”

“No, madam,” he quietly answered; “but if you will trust me for that,” looking wistfully at the stamp in my hand, “I will try and pay it back as soon as I am able.”

Although I had not a thought of ever hearing of, or receiving the lent treasure, the idea pleased me, together with the boy’s straightforward manner; but as I placed the desired sum in his thin hand, I was immediately paid by receiving the sweetest and most grateful look, with a murmur of thanks and an assurance of future payment. And as I departed, the little solicitor bowed with the air of a young prince.

The unique little beggar, debtor or creditor, I hardly knew what to call him, possessed my mind all the way home.

His face had awakened a sad memory, for it reminded me of my own lost darling, for whom I was then in mourning. The delicate features, the… Read More