Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1857-05-15
From the Olive Branch.
LITTLE MATTE.
" When l can read my title clear
10 mansions in the skies"


within. The little maid of my adoption
was busy with the brush and the dust
pan, her curly pate bobbing up and down
as she went the rounds of her daily work.
Matte was a bright-eyed, happy ere
AZURE, always singing the pleasant hymns
of the olden times; and / had boosted TO |
my friends of my treasure, till they had
almost envied me the possession Of the
honest little waiting maid. l went up
stairs to my toilet, and thanked God that
/, too, could sing, in the language Of
faith,
III bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes"
The blinds were all closed to shut out
the hot sun. A soft and agreeable dim
ness pervaded the large, old-fashioned
room, and the heavy crimson curtains
Seated in an easy chair, l was reading
sleepily, and the words were just blend
into that prismatic confusion which pre-
cedes inconsistencies, when l heard a
light trip by, and, almost without thought,
l found myself following little form up
the stairs.
In my boudoir stood Matte, looking
at, nay, handling a small diamond brooch,
which l had often observed her gaze al
with childish admiration. Evidently
some struggle was going on in her hither.
to innocent mind. She placed it down
lifted it again, held it at arms length, ant
fnally-Oh, how my heart sank-cast {
hurried glance about her, concealed tht
brooch in her bosom, and then guilty
took up her simple sewing. She haC
always sat there to sew in the afternoon
AT first felt like confronting her, TO
> my temper is quick; but better thought
prevailed. l returned to the sitting-room
I and in little time sent for Matte.
e She came in slowly her ingenious
ness was gone. The vivacious spark
of her eyes had failed, and, without in
tending it, she assumed a sidelong pos
ton.
Il am lonely, Matte; bring you
> sewing here; sit on this stool and kee
me company. You were singing swet
+ hymn when l came down this morning
n who taught you to sing?'
"My mother, ma'am,' came in fain
e low voice.
" Yes, l remember your mother, 81
\ was sweet woman, a good christia
e and is now an angel. Idon't believe 81
+ would willingly have done wrong dee
n do you, Matte p
II "No ma'am,' murmured the chill
y and her cheeks crimsoned painfully.
P, Il remember" l went on, as if
myself, how very beautiful she lookt
lie as she lay wasting away, and how qui
IN and happy she felt when she came to d
All, Matte, you and will have just
d. sweet and happ a dying if we never
ID anything wrong-if we only obey Coz
Ill commandments"
r l saw the flush deepening, the lips /
r. ginning to culver. The little fnge
Us shook violently as she passed the trem
p lous needle through; the little BOSE
- heaved; l had touched the right choir
Matte, love to hear you sing.
" Sing me that sweet hymn,
"Alas! and did my Saviour bleed
The poor conscience-stricken lit
creature obeyed my request with +
tering voice. She conquered the
verse but when she began on the S
'o' ond,
:, a" Was it for crimes that IL
- her voice failed, her frame quivered
- over, and she burst into passion
~ grief, burying her face in my lap.
Tears were running in swift strea
.ao down my own cheeks, as the heavy S
told her suferings.
- Matte" l said, as well as l was a
for emotion, what have you been dol
"a my child, to make you weep thus p
She dashed the guilt out of her Dos
= with the brooch, and throwing it vii
from her, sobbed, +" took i'll stole
l meant to sell it-oh p and her I
80 longed moan was anguish itself.
-, ! took the struggling child to my he
: l laid my hand upon her burning +
pies, and let her hide the wet, sha
1r covered face in my bosom. God kn
IL l felt fully that moment something of
81 divine nature of forgiveness, and
.,o5 compassionate pity of sin, yet love
-. the sinner, which, methinks, in their