v . ?* . . -; ' ... (P?S7(S?, * . GENTLE ANNIE. BY STETIIKN C. t'OSTKR. Thou wilt comc no more, gentle Aiinio? Like iv flower thy spirit tlild her story, jet more of them gave it credence enough to bestow aught. She came to my fiiend, who was seated but a few feet distant, and 1 overhead her story. ISliu wai a most beautiful child, apparently not iii'TO than eight years of age, and her destitute condition at once commanded my attfiit km. She had upon her feet a pair of old gaiters, without stockings, and her delicate little limbs were red and benumbed with the ii 11 - -< uiu.;i mi'i. j ier ouier garments were very jioor, ami in keeping willi lier destitution. My friend, whose large wesilth had always been the means of doing <:ood, happened to 1 ?e reading at the time, and paid but little attention to what was said. In faet, he had been often imposed upon about that time, and therefore paid hut little attention to what she told him. ' lleio,' said he, giving her-a gold dollar, ' take this and buy you some clothes ; now go home, quick.' I watched the expression of the child's countenance as she received the coin, and its very workings gave lie to the thoughts that she was an impostor. T nudged my -friend and directed his attention to it, and lie at once called her to him. ' Tell mo, sissy, what is your naino ?' ' Clara Wentworth, sir,' ehe replied promptly. Well, Clara, where do you live!' r On Stroet, with my parents.' ' Why do they send you out bogging?1 'Mother was loth to have mo come, sir. but?' ' Ts lliis llic first time you ever went out ?o bog V " Yes, sir; my father?' and here &1ic hesitated 4 WV1I, lie is good father, but he spends his money for rnm, and given rton? to mother to pay the rent.1 ' Tell me his name.' ' Frank Wentworth sir.' 1 Frank WeiUworth f' cxelaimed my friend, suddenly. ' Do j*ou know him V said f. ' What was your mother's namo V '"Clara Trtieman, she replied. ' Ye",' said he, in reply to my question ; 1 T do know her.- Shn was one one of my schoolmates.' He took his note book from ltis pocket and wrote the address, at the samo time telling the child that h?? would see her again. 'Can it be possible V he exclaimed, as n1ic turned to 1'eavs liirti ? 4 I' cannot believe it.'" 41 liopo you will not come to our house, air, for we arc very poor; and father?lie is not well.' 1 Never mind, my child ; oou run straight home, now, and I will see yon again Boon.' "With a buoyan' heart the poor littlo girl left the room, ana my friend seemed deeply moved. 4 Clara Trucman, was once the hello of ft , and can it he that Frank has dragged her down to this ? I must see them. Come, my friend,' lie said, taking my arm ; 4you wotdd like to witness tliis little episode, this scene IVom die great drama of lifo., come with mo. Wo followed close upon the track of the little girl, who was hounding happily along over tlio icy pa\'cmertts, unmindful of all, save the joy ?lie felt at finding a friend. While going to the place he related lier history tb itift,- or*t1iat portion' of it'which lie knew", and sooil learlled'tho r?f when \re entered the House. The youtlifnl hus * Ifnnd'atld^fatKer lay upon a )>allct of straw ih a drunken sleep. "When we entered the little girl ran to her mother, and in joyous tbnes introduced us as the poreons who had befriended her. It' was some moments before my friend could recall the features of the once beautiful Clare, and she waaae loog in recognizing her old schoolmate. ^ What has brought you to this, Clara!' lie said, taking lier hand in his, and gazing upon the prostrate form of her huibaud. . - I ' \ A V t ? ' I call it misfortune,' she said drying tears ; for it waited upon my husband, b ted his dearest hopes and prospects ; : in despair, lyj sought the cup to drive sad memories from his brain. Poverty lowed close upon it, and here you I me, a poor outcast from that gay world which we once met, and I was so hap| 4 How long has it been thus ?' 'It has been giowing thus lor years, : to-day it finds me unable to pay my n ami liable to be turned out of doors if . paid within the next twelve hours. that purposo I sent my child forth?a?1> gar.' It was a hard for her t:> rel ito to < whom she had known iu opuleti , and hard for him to listen. 1I