Des Moines courier. ([Ottumwa] Iowa) 1848-1854, 1850-06-21

hcient TO appeal to our sympathies.-
Three or four little.urchins were ci ingins
TO her skirts. coaxed an acquaintanct
with the cleanest of them, while my
aunt was occupied with the mother.
The poor woman's story was briefly
told. Once possessed of affiuence they
had been reduced to poverty by the fail
ure of bank, in which all their funds
were invested. Sickness and death fol.
lowing close on the heels of poverty
she had been reduced to her present con.
dition. Strangers in the village they had
been literally famishing, when a poor
woman, herself recipient of aunt Deb
by's bounty, brought information oil
them to my christian aunt.
My basket was soon opened; the chill
dren gathered around it. and they made
terrible inroads on the cold chicken and
bread and butter. When their enormous
appetites seemed somewhat appea sed,
which was not until the basket was com
pletely lightened, Aunt Debbie opened
her bundle.
I'VE must make these little ones look
little more respectable said she.
The mother blnshed as she told us that
trouble made her forget everything.
oh, never mind said Aunt Debbie,
"a little soap and plenty of fresh water
will work wonders. Haddie will take
charge Of that little fellow with the long
curls.
II was a tiresome task. / scrubbed,
and rubbed, and pulled his hair most un-
mercifully, but the rogue bore it all quiet
ly; and when it was over, and they were
arraycd in clean, whole dresses, what
beauties they were! Their mother look
ed most happy, with seeing her children
look so bright; and when at parting,
Aunt Debbie promised TO procure en-
ploymenl for her, and to take the eldest
girl under her own care, thought there
would be no end to the God bless you.'
My heart swelled as we turned home
ward.
Certainly, Aunt Debbie, said /, sthis
right makes me feel very happy; though
| attribute part of my present feelings to
JOY at being rid of that basket
Descending the hill, we came to the
school house. caught sight Of an old
acquaintance thro' the window.
is Amy Henry the teacher, Aunt
Debbie! That saucy girl, who used to
play at tit-tat-to on her slate instead of
doing her sums, and make such comical
little heads on her copy book, and
Hush my dear; Amy is graver now,
and would probably no. wish hearing of
her youthful follies. Shall we go in!'
% no! could never keep my counte-
nance to hear Amy lecturing the class
We will stand here; they will not see u.s. ,
Amy was bending over slate while a
little girl stood by her side with a terribly
puzzled countenance. There was some
thing so comic in her woe-begone visage,
that Amy burst into a hearty laugh, and
so did |. Of course we were discover
ed, and forced in to occupy that post of
honor, the visitors seat 1t was very
strange to see that merry Amy sobered
down into pale, intellectual looking
woman. l watched her carefully as she
moved quietly among her scholars
Their bright glances showed how iAuch
they loved her and did not wonder at
it, SO patiently and kindly did she smooth
away difficulties, so gently did she cor
rect tn cir faults, and her smile of appro-
val was SO sweet She called up her
class to reciie; and they proved by their
answers, that her labor had not been
lost. A brighter set of boys l never
saw before.
When the school was dismissed, the
scholars passed noiselessly from the
room, SO carefully had they been trained;
but when they assembled on the green,
there arose a tremendous shout.
stepped to the door to learn the cause
They were hurraing for Miss Amy and
Aunt Debbie.
My aunt spoke truly--another noble
right, to gain the love, the almost adora.
tion of those geniuses; to mould their
minds at her villa glorious right, YET
fearful one.
We left the pale teacher in her now
quiet school room. wanted her nay
urged her to walk home with me; but she
smllingly refused, pointing TO large pile
of copies 10 be set.
duty, duty-all right said Aunt
Debbie; 'and then comes the pleasure ol
a visit from you, Amy, on Saturday
when the children will have holiday.
Yes, Haddie, think of Saturday, when
the children will have holiday
Yes, Haddie, think Of Saturday; and
till then, good-by.'
Nov. Haddie, for race to the top o.
the HILL said Aunt Debbie.
soon attained the summit, and callec
tn my aunt to follow. We had stoot
there some time drinking in the splendit
sunset, when we heard voices in the ad
joining wood.
.The wood-cutters, John Holm ane
his son, suppose, said my aunt.
The sounds, which had at first beer
those of cheerful conversation, now be
come louder and angry.
| oh! aunt, they are quarreling,' ex
claimed.
Aunt Debbie stepped boldly into til.
forest. Guided by the sounds, we soor
emerged from the tangled thicket into al
open glade. There stood the two dis