Marshall County Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1855-1859, 1859-01-13
Speak Gently.


30 don't disturb me, rmread.
ing" was the answer.
'But just hold this stick, wont
you, while drive this pin through.
Il can't now, / want to finish this
story said | emphatically; and
my little brother turned away with
a disappointed look, in search of
somebody else to assist him.
He was a brig hit boy of ten year,
and my only brother. He had
been visiting a young friend, and
had seen wind mill, and as soon
as he came home his energies were
all employed in making a small
one; for he was always trying to
make tops, wheelborrows, kites
and all sorts of things, such as
boys delight in. He had worked
patiently all the morning with
saw and jack-knife, and now it
only needed putting together to
complete it-and bis only sister
had refused to assist him, and he
had gone away with his young
.heart saddened. l thought of all
this in fifteen minutes after he left
me and my book gave me no pleas
ure. 1t was not intentional I'M
kindness, only thoughtlessness, for
Il loved my brother and was gen.
orally kind to him; still, l had
refused to help him, would have
gone after him and afforded the
assistance he needed, but l knew
that he had found some one else.
But | had neglected an opportu-
nifty ofgladdening a childish heart.
: In half an hour he came bounding
into the house, exclaiming. "Come,
Mary, | have got it up; just see
how it goes!" His tones were joy
Gus, and Isaw that he had forgotten
my petulence, so | determined to
atone by unusual kindness. l went
with him, and sure enough on the
roof of the woodhouse was fas tened
a miniature windmill, and the
arms were whirling around fast
enough to suit any boy. | praised
the windmill and my little broth.
.ers ingenuity, and he seemed hap
Ply andentire ly forgetful of my
nnkindness, and / resolved, as /
had many times before, to be al
ways loving and gentle.
A few days passed by, and the
shadow of a great sorrow darkened
our dwelling. The joyous laugh
and noisy glee were hushed, and
our merry by lay in darkened
room with anxious faces around
him, his cheeks flushed and his eyes
unnaturally bright. Somtimes his
temple would moisten and his
muscles relax, and then hope
would come into our hearts, and
>our eyes would fill with thankful
tears. 1t was in one of these deceit
fulc aims in his disease that he
heard the noise of his little wheel,
and said, 81 heard my windmill"
''Does it make your head ache!"
/ asked: ''Shall we take it down."
30 no." replied be, lit seems as
if | were out of doors, and it
makes me feel better"
He unused moment, and then
added: Don't you remember,
Mary, that l wanted you to help
me fix it, and you was reading
and told me you could notl But
1t diden't make any difference, for
mamma helped me"
o, how sadly those words fell
upon my ear, and what bitter
memories they awakened I! How
repented, as kissed little Franks
forehead, that l had ever spoken
unkindly to him. Hours of sor-
row went by, and anguish deeper,
until, one week from the morning
on which he spoke of his childish
sports, we closed che eyes once so
sparkling, and folded his hands
over his pulseless heart. He
sleeps now in the grave, and home
is desolate; but the little windmill,
the work of his busy hands, is still
swinging in the breeze, just where
he placed it upon the roof of the
old woodshed; and every time l
sethe tiny arms revolving l remem-
Der the lost little Frank-and l
remember also the thoughtless,
the unkind words!
Brothers and sisters be kind to
each other. Be gentle F., consider
ate, and loving. | Examiner.