The Pawnbroker's Window.

Manawatu Standard, Volume X, Issue 2, 9 May 1885, Page 3

The Pawnbroker's Window.

There is more philosophy of life to be learned at a pawnbroker's window than m all the libraries m the world. The mixims and dogmas which wise men have chronicled disturb the mind for a moment, as the breeze ruffles the surface of the deep stream, and then passes away ; but there is something m the melancholy grouping of a pawnbroker's window, which, ltke a record of ruin, sinks into the heart. The household gods — the cherished relics — the sacred possessions affection bestowed or eyes now closed m death had once looked upon as their own, are here, as it were, profaned ; the associations of dear old times are here violated ; the family hearth is here outraged; the ties of love, kindred, rank — all that the heart clings to, are broken here. It is a sad picture, for m spite of the glittering show its associations are sombre. There hangs the watch, the old chased repeater, that hung over the head of a dying parent when bestow- j ing his trembling blessing on the poor outcast who parted with it for bread; the widow's wedding ring is there — the last and dearest of all her possessions; the trinket, the pledge of love of one now dead; the only relic of the heart's fondest memories ; silver that graced the holiday feast; the, gilt-framed miniature that used to bang over the quiet jnahtleshelf ; the flute, the favourite of a deceased son, surrendered by a starving mother to procure food for her remaining offspring ; the locket that held a farthers hair; or, gloomier still, the dress, the very covering of the poor is there, waving like the flag of wretchedness and misery. It is a strange, sad sight ; to those who feel aright there are more touching memorials to be seen at a pawnbroker's window than m all the monuments m Westminster Abbey.