The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1854-11-29
gtlett Storp.
The Match Girl Of Kentucky.
BY FRANCES S. osGooD.

BY FRANCES S. oSGooD.
sSix for ftp! matches! matchssH' The
voice was clear and glad as the winds,
and Russell Hartley turned to see from
whence it proceeded; little bare footed
airl, about ten years'old, with the sunnest, |
sweetest face he had ever seen. was trip
ping Just behind, and. as he turned, she
held up her matches with such e winning,
pleading, heavenly smile in her blue eyes,
| that he bought nearly all she had at once.
| Her hair fell in soft light waves rather
than curls, nearly to her waist, and hole
lin her little straw hat lei in sunbeam
lupon il that turned it half to gold.
| In spite of the child's coarse and tat
tered apparel, in spite of her lowly occu-
patton. her manner, her step, her express
sion, the very tone of her voice unoon-
sciously betrayed u native delicaoy and
refinement, which deeply interested the
lhigh-bred youth whom she addressed:
] Impelled by an irresistible Impulse, he
fingered by her side as she proceeded.
"What is your lame, my ohiidF he
asked.
/ s.Virginia, sir, what is yours?"
! "Har,ley-Russel Hartley" he replied,
Iemiling at her artless and native simplicity;
land where is your home?"
| "Oh, Ihave no home, at least not much
OF one sleep in the barns here.' and
i again she looked up in his face, with her
happy and touching smile.
s.And your mother2" g
la an instant the soft brow was shadow
ed, and the uplified eyes glistened with
ltears.
II will tell you all about it, if you will
Icome close to me; | don't like to talk loud
about it, she replied in low laltefing
jtones.
Russell Hartley took her littls sunburnt
hand in his, and bent his head in earnest
}atten,ion.
1--WE had been on the great ship ever so
many days, mother, and father and l, and
all the other people; and one night we
were in the room they call the ladies'
cabin, and mother had just undressed me,
and was sitting on her knee singing the
, little hymn she had Taught me. and she
had her arm around my neck-mo,her
loved me ah! SO dearly-and she was so
sweet and good. nobody will ever be so
good to me againi" and here the little
creature tried 10 repress sob, and wiped
! her eyes with her torn apron. "Ne:L
aud so was singing my pretty hymn
II OF old tn Apostle walked the wave,
II As eeaInen walked the land,
| power near him strong to sayes
For Jesus held his hand.
- Why should fear when dangers near!
Il I'm safe on sea or land.
For I've in heaven Father dear.
And he win hold my hand.
Isl Though ON a dizzy height. perchance,
| With taiteriux feet stand,
Il No dread shalt dim my upward glance.
81 For God will hold my hand.
But oh! if doubt should cloud the day.
III And sin beside me stand, 't-
t, Then firmest, LEST LOSE NY WAY,
My father, hold my hand!
All at once there was a dreadful con
81 fused sound; run.bling, crashing, shrek
2 ling noise-a terrible pain, and then
y awoke up, and there was on bed in
- strange room, and some people standin
4 by the fire talking about steamboat tha
had burst her boiler the day before, and
- found that | had been washed on shore
( and that Mr. Smith had found me an
taken me home to his wife, and she ha
pui me into warm bed ard tried to rous
me; but she couldn't until woke up my
n, self the next day. And when | cried f.
lmy own sweet mother. they looked sac
and said she was drowned, and | shoul
us ever see her again. And then wante
10 be drowned too, but they said that we
wicked, and | was sorry | said SO, for
''' would not be wicked for the world. Moth'
always loved to have me good; and SO
'd' always tried to be as happy as they tol
me must, but could not-for gre
fui while used to pine so at night fer h
arms around me! At last found lit
mn comfort in doing just as she would like
have me-. and in knowing that she cou
- see me still, and in talking to her; and
used to sing my little hymn up to her
.ft heaven, Just as | did when sat on h
ire knee, and sing ii now every night. M
nd Smith and his wife both died and left ii
Ike all alone again; but am hardly ever ss
,at now, for am most always good, and "
ed know good people must not be unhappy
- and the beautiful loving smile shone aga
ter through her lingering tears as she finish'
wa her simple story.
he Russell was touched to the heart. Il
N. own ewes were moist, and bending dow
NJ. he kissed the innocent cheek OF the lii
: 4 orphan, and bade her go with him, and
! of would give her money to feed and clot
ave herself. -, al3
an, But the child drew gently. and SON
to what proudly back and said earnest
laOh!. Inever take money as gift; moth
ia. would not like it, Then kissing tend
: ly the gentle hand that still held hers, 8
tol ltripped lightly around corner, and
az moment afier, Hartley heard her, soft .
,as. yer, childish voice, tremble far in the d
mi. t,ance, singing Matches! matches! six
or a ftp! Who Il buy my matches. ho!"
alls Russell Hartley kept that sweet pict'
sss. in his soul. undimmed through years
not travel, and change, and care. He visi
AXE with enthusiasm tho noble galleries
ad- painting and sculpture in England, Frar
Iber and Italy, and many gem of art '
lrds ensh6ned and .hallowed in the music
the blets OF memory, but there was none
ged rival the gem. Of nature-the matohl
- little match girl of Kentucky, with her
. l.