AN ANGEL’S TOUCH.

Dunstan Times, Issue 1073, 17 November 1882, Page 3

AN ANGEL’S TOUCH.

A little maid, whose looks betrayed A sorrow far too deep for tears, Stepped in the stm-e (’twas known she bore A mirden weighty for her years). And, with the nickel in her hand, She lingered till the clerk was free To wait upon her. Sr.e had come To purchase live cents’ worth of tea. Men s:nod not far off, bv the bar. In haste the whisky fire to quaff. The glasses chinking as they drink. As if it were the demon’s laugh. They turned away the score to pay. When one among them chanced to find A hitle maid asleep ; her head Against a barrel near inclined. E’en while she slept, the coin the kept Still tightly guaided—precious store— Tnat was to huy a small supply Of tea—when food was needed more. Her story sad the gi ocer’s lad Told to the men who stood anear, And one, ashamed, straightway exeliinnd. Say, drunkards, all of you, look here 1 “ Wo drink our fill of whishy, till Our money's gon", our senses fled, While this one here (ho brushed a tear) Is suffering for want of bread 1 I’m not bereft ol feeling yet, Thank God ! •* he added, as he took, With generous impulse, an amount Of money from Ids pocket-book. “ I’ll give my share ! another there Exclaimed, who would not bn outdone ; “And I 1” “ And I 1’ till by and by Five dollars were in 'bis Way won. Then from her hard one of the hja l d The nickel ti ok— preserved with care— And in its place, with tender grace, Loft the much larger treasure thereFiie little girl then sweetly smiled ; “ The gal’s a dreamin’, boys, no doubt!” The spokesman said. With gentle tread He and his comrades then went out. The clerk awoke the child, who snoke With ringing laugh—all fieefrom care ; “ Oh, na,” said she, 1 wasnt’t sick, and wo Had lots to eat and lots to wear 1 “ It didn’t seem to be a dream, It was so real ! I can’t forgot An angel stood there, bright and good And touched my hand ; it burns mo yet!” With startled gaze, all in a maze, She sees the bill within her hj ind ; And how the change so wondrous strange Was wrought she fails to understand. Her arms heaped high with gbnd supply Of precious things she gladly here. She said, “Ma’il hardly think item.’, An angel clerked it in your store !" What joy, if they who on that day Performed an angel’s part so u ell, Shunned, ore too late, the drunkard’s fate, And saved their souls from deepest h-11 I —New York Ledger.