A TOUCHING STORY.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XIV, Issue XIV, 2 April 1879, Page 4

A TOUCHING STORY.

Dean Stanley, in his sermon to children, at Westminster Abbey, recently told a touching little story. He said : Not long ago, in Edinburgh two gentlemen were standing at the door of an hotel one very cold day, when a little boy with a pale> thin, blue face, hia feet bare and red with the cold, and With nothing to cover him hut a buodle of rags, came and Baid " Please sit, buy some matches.'' "No, I don't want any," the gentleman sail. "But they are only a penny a box," the poor fellow pleaded. " Yea, but you see we don't want a box," the gentleman said again. " Then I'll gie ye twa boxes for a penny," the boy said at last, end so, to get rid of him, the gentlemaa who tells tbe story says 5 " I bought a box, but then I found I had no change, so I said, *I will buy a box to-morrow.' • Ob, do buy them to-nigh, the boy pleaded. ' I will run and gel the change,' for I bid very hungry.' go I gave him the shilling, aud he started away. I waited for him, but no boy came. Then I thought I had lost my shilling ; still there was that in tbe boy's face I trusted, and I did not like to think badly of bim. Late in the evening I was told a little boy wante. to see vie. When be was brought in, I fooud it was a smaller brother of the boy who had got my shilling, but, if possible, still more ragged, and poor, and thin. He stood for a moment diving into his rags as if he was seeking something, and then said, "Are you the gentleman tbat bought the matches frae Sandy ? ' « Yes.' « Weel, then, here's fcurpence oat o' yer shilling ; Sandie cannot come ; he is very ill ; a cart ran ower him and knocked him down, and he lost his bonnet and bia matches, and your sevenpence, and both his legs are broken, and the doctor says he'll die, and that's a.* And then, putting tbe foorpence on tbe table, tbe poor child broke down into great sobs. So I fed the little man, and 1 went with him to see Sandie. I found that tbe two little things lived alone, tbeir father and mother being both dead. Poor Sandie was lyiog on a bundle of shavings. He knew me as soon as 1 came in, and said : 'I got the change, sir,' and was coming back ; and then the horse knocked me down, and both my legs were broken. And ob, Reuby ! little Reuby ! I am sure 1 am'dyin^, and who will take care of you after I am gone ? What will you do, Reuby ? Tben I took his haod.aod said I would lake care of Reuby. He understood me ; and had just strength to look up at me as if io thank me. The light went out of bis blue eyes, and in a moment He lay within the light of God, Like a babe upon the breast, Where tbe wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest.