Washington Telegraph

A Touching Incident.—In passing down Broomfield street, we think it was, we met a man in the winter of life, his grey hair falling over his pale features, and with staff in hand, laboring to reach his home. The bad work he made of it led the bystanders to think him intoxicated. He would walk a short distance in a very unsteady manner, then pause and lean upon his staff, a source of merriment to the boys and of merriment to the men, who, like the Levites of old, wagged their heads and passed by on the other side.

Pausing a moment to look at the old man, we noticed a little girl—God bless her!—anxiously watching his movements, and evidently desiring to do something to assist him. She might have seen fourteen winters, was richly dressed, with a pretty face, and eye full of meaning, expression, and soul, with books in hand, was probably on her way to school. The little Samaritan did not long remain inactive. Approaching a gentleman (?), she inquired, with a faltering tongue, while a tear was seen on her fair cheek, "Is that old gentleman sick or intoxicated?" "Drunk, I guess!" was the heartless reply. At which, with the soul of a hero, this little angel of mercy approached the old man, and after a moment's conversation, the two were seen wending their way along the street, the little girl supporting the tottering form of him whom the unfeeling crowd had left to his fate.

On inquiry, we learned that the old man was a worthy person, and having gone out on a morning walk, was suddenly overtaken with a sort of blindness, which was the occasion, though unconscious of it himself, of his unsteady gait. He is a temperate man, and sickness subjected him to the jibes and jeers of the multitude, save that noble-hearted girl. We tried to learn her name, but were unable to do so. How like an oasis in this desert, selfish world, such conduct appears! Whoever that girl may be, we say, God bless her!—Fall River Monitor.