aments of the jewellers'
establishments served only to remind him of the vanities of earth, and
his own poverty; and as he looked upon the gaily-dressed crowd that
was thronging Broadway, among which there was not one whose face was
known to him, that painful sense of desolation which comes over one
when he feels alone in a crowd, saddened him almost to tears. He
recalled the happy days of his early childhood, and even those when,
after his father's death, he had been compelled to labour to assist
his mother. Ah, how light it all seemed in comparison with the
hardship of his present lot! Notwithstanding the comfort he had
enjoyed on the previous day, and his renewed determination to do his
duty and trust in God, his heart grew sick at the prospect of the long
years of wretchedness and bondage yet to be endured before his
apprenticeship should end; and he wished to die. "I am the most
unhappy being on the face of the earth," he said, as he wiped away the
tears with his ragged sleeve; "but still I will try to do right. Ah,
if Nicholas Herman knew how unhappy I am, I am sure he would try to
get me away!" He had by this time reached the city limits, and the
gardener's cottage, with its high enclosing palisades and espaliers
hanging with tempting fruit, was visible. The hedge which bordered on
the roadside was green, and its verdure attractive to one accustomed
to country life. Bounding over the ditch which separated it from the
common path, he was about to continue his walk along its margin, when
his step was arrested by a sound of distress. He looked round and saw
a little boy, barefoot and thinly clad, sitting on the ground and
weeping bitterly. A little basket, half filled with chips, told what
his occupation had been, while his pale face and meagre form were such
as to awaken pity in the heart of the most careless. William was not
so absorbed in his own distress that he had no sympathy to bestow on
another. He stooped over the boy, and, as he kindly took him by the
hand, a tear, which his own circumstances had called forth, fell upon
the boy's cheek, and caused him to look up in surprise.
"What are you crying for?" asked William; "are you afraid, or has any
one hurt you?"
The little fellow only answered by questioning: "You are crying
yourself;" said he; "are you as hungry as I am?"
"Are you really crying for hunger! that is dreadful!" rejoined
William. "I know what it is not to have enough to eat, but still I
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