Indiana American. [volume] (Brookville, Ind.) 1833-1861, 1855-05-18

w III eOuit ObS tCu ao Aikut oQbu
1t woull benefit several.
Yours.
ENQUIRER.
Little Willie.
willie! Willier said Mr.. Grey, Il,
is time to get in your nights wood and
water, and then 60 for the cows. You
are rather late about chores, seems tc
me-
Willie was a slender, delicate boy,
only nine years old. and the heavy
sigh he gave. his only reply as he
started to obey his fathers command,
sunk leaden ike to my heart. 1 en-
deavored to keep up a conversation
with Mr.. Gray, but soon followed
little Willie to the kitchen yard, to
share, if might be, in his nights
chores. l stopped to watch him q
few moments. and could scarcely cred
1t my own eyes as / saw him lift, saw
and split large sticks of wood tha,
would have taxed the strength oi
many a man. / wondered Mrs. Grey
could have him do so. but that pale
sad face of hers told very plainly that
"shc hid no business. to dictate, no,
not even about her otcn chiidren!"-
o, ! wish Mr.. Grey bad known how
easy / could have-have-yes, l must
say it-horsewhipped him! Whether
| had any business to dictate or not,
that leaden weight kept rising and
crowding into my throat. and / could
not consent to be checked bv it
without making an effort to save my
self; SO ! turned back TO where / left
Mr.. Gray. 'Yon are killing that boy
said /.
How, in what way, should like
to know, he replied
by giving hIn such logs of wood to
split. bringing full pals of water, and
LIany other things entirely beyond his
strength. Willie is not strong boy,
and he cannever gain strength in such
a way
What ,0ould you have him do? play
all the time? bring him upin idle.
ness?'
BY no means; but he should have
work given him that he can perform
with ease, and not be kept so loEg at
work at one time, and as his strength
increases gradually increase bis tasks.
The varied exercises Of play is much
better for him than work that taxes
so severely and steadily his back. sides
and stomach-and delicate consti-
tutioned boy like him should have
even his play watched that he might
not exert himself too much
We'll. WELT when you have children
bring them up rs you please. / rath-
er think l shall claim the same
privilege in regard to minep and Mr..
Grey uttered a very decided 'ahemp
Twas surprised that he had listened
to Inc so patiently-but poor little Will
lie!
.
There are hushed tones. and soft
footsteps in the house Of Mr.. Grey,
and the children sit quietly. with a
shade Of anxiety and sorrow on their
young features, and Mrs. Grey gives
orders In low voice. moving quickly
about. yet SO gently that you know
not Of her coming or her going. only
that you see her: and Mr.. Grey, where
is he? In the back parlor. on n couch
placed by the window that he lvves
best. lies Willie. and there by his
side, holding the small, thin hand in
his, sits Mr.. Gray. That little hand
Is hot, and .ther. are deep red spots on
the once pale cheeks, and those sweet
blue eyes wander unconsciously aud
CLEAN fiercelv bright with the deliri.
um Of fever. All night and all day
has Mr.. Grey sat there, watching for
one look Of recognition. one rational
word; YET no ray Of intelligence meets
his steadfast gaze no word Of love falls
on his listening eur, hut the sufferer
tosses restlessly TO and fro on bis
couch. moaning sadly to himself, 'Oh.
| am so liredP Night comes again
and Willie sleeps. His breathing is
short and laborcd. but be sleeps. and
10 Mr.. Grey 1t in evidence that he Is
better. The physician enters, and
feels his pulse. and looks long and
earnestly in his face. and when the
anxious inquiry Is made, is he better?
he only shakes his head and goes
away. With the yeaning tenderness
Of mother Mr.. Grey watches beside
his child, his Willie.' never turning
bis eyes from him, save to see II the
morning light is not coming, for in the
morning he is sure Willie will be bet
ter.
"This sleep viii do him good" says
he; oh yes. in the morning he will
surely be better" Morning has come.
and he is 5et.sr-he is ,pelil but he has
"another morn than ours. where he
will never again be tired. never more
be- i'll.
wrap the cold, white shroud around him,
Field his hand above his breast
Place him gently In his colin
Little willie's gone 10 rcsu
Lay him there beneath tho willow,
Where the wild bird woaves her pesl,
with the damp ground for his pillow,
Leave him 10 bis quie, rect.
There is another angel In heaven
but. poor Mr.. Grey; two years have
watched the flowers bloom. and fade,
and die on the grave Of little Willie.
wonder ifany other "littls Willies'
have died in that time!
WILDWOOD.