Cleveland morning leader. [volume] (Cleveland [Ohio]) 1854-1865, 1859-02-09
MORNING LEADER.
FrOm GOdey's Lady's Book, for FebruaIy-)
JESSIE, THE LAME GIRL.

donville, there was not a prettier nor happier
little maiden than Jessie Harris. She was the
only daughter of poor, hardworking widow,
who had lost her husband and received son
on the same night. George Harris had been a
| quarryman in the large stone-wOrks that were a
few PAGES from his house, and had been killed
| by a fall down deep shaft. His widow heard
the news while she was anxiously waiting his
return to bless his new born son, their only boy.
Little Jessie, then about three years old, ana
George, the infant son, were thus left latherless.
Much sympathy was shown in SnowdOnville for
the widow; and the wealthy ladies', Mrs. Rails
ton, Mrs. Hewitt, and some Others, sent her
plain sewing to do, and paid her a fair price,
and thus enabled her to support herself and
children quite comfortably. AT the time my
story opens, Jessie was about eleven years of
age. and little George eight Jessie was the
beauty and the pet ofthe village school With
dark, waving hair, soft hazle eyes; and rich,
healthy complexion, she had a right to claim
the first; and her talent and industry won her
the last. Gas pretty and smart as Jessie Har-
RS" was quite a saying in the village.
| My story opens on dark and clustering winter
evening, when the snow fell thick and fast, and
the high wind threatened to shake in the win
dows of the little cottage where my heroine
| lived. Widow Harris was seated near the fire
sewing; and Jessie's nimble fingers kept time
with hers as she put patch on Georges school
coat George as a special privilege, lay on the
settee, ready to go to bed, but permitted to stay
with his mother, because the wind made him
afraid to go up stairs alone
| "Mother," said Jessie, "Miss Miles said some
thing very nice to me to-day"
"What was it, my daughter !" inquired Mrs.
Harris.
'She said that, if l study hard and improve
as much as l have done, will be able to take
the school when am old enough. She wants
to give it up; but she is attached to the girls
that she will not do so until some one can take
her place that she can feel confidence in
| Mother mother what was that I"
They were all on their feet with white faces
and trembling figures. A fearful crash, follow
ed by shrek of agony, had caused Jessie's ex-
clamation. With tremb ing fingers, Mrs. Har-
ris unlatched the door. The wind blew it open
and drifted the falling snow into the ROOM
Nothing was heard for an instant but the howl
ing of the wind then came low moan, and &
voice cried, 'Help"
'Mother, some one has fallen into the quarry
And Jessie sprang out. 81 know every step o
the way; do not fear for me-" Then, raising
her voice, she cried, Courage am coming.
Her mother followed; and needless of th,
raging storm, Jessie went forward to find tht
sufferer.
'Call again. Where are youl'
There was no answer.
Mother" she said, turning round, " run t,
the village for help. 1 am small and light;
will go down into the quarry"
''God keep and preserve you!" said he
mother; ''for you go on his errand' And witt
this blessing, she left the brave child alone il
the storm.
Gathering her skirts around her, Jessie bega
to descend into the quarry. The huge masse
of stone, though covered with snow, were un
even enough to afford her foothold, and at las
she reached the bottom. Ii was a large no
low; and for an instant her courage failed hel
as she thought of the discouraging task she ha
undertaken; then, with a fervent inward prayer
she began to feel for the person she had com
, to seek. The darkness bewildered her; ht
e own voice was lost in the noise Of the storm
t and her heart was sinking with despair, whe
r voices above reached her ear. She stopped, ,an,
feeling, pushed aside the snow to lay her ten
. bling hand upon a cold human face. " Here
here !" she cried; 'he is certainly here ~
The lanterns cleaned brightly above her
i the mouth of the quarry; but no one steppC
It forward to answer Jessie's call. The descel
r which her light feet and small figure had a
o complished was dangerous for large, heavy me
n and they were celebrating what to do. A fai
!. of brandy and a lantern were lowered by rope
and Jessie was directed to raise the mans hes
and pour some of the spirits into his mouth
i She did so; and, with a great struggle, CO
sciousness returned to the sufferer.
y "Mother." cried Jessie, 'it is young Mr. R;
t, stomp
"Ask him. if we lower chair, if he can
% in it until we haul him out"
"Yes, yes - said the young man very hastil
F" 81 was coming across, and the piece of stone
n stepped upon loosened and rolled down here.
s, lost nv balance and came after it."
/; This was said in low, weak voice to Jess
rs who called aloud, Lower the chair quickly
10 Slowly along the snowy sides a chair taste
:, ed by many ropes, was lowered 1t was sol
L time before the stiff, wounded young man cot
get into it; but at last it was effected. "HC
oi will you get up! he said, turning to his bra
% deIiverer.
US "I will come after you," was the reply, in
a cheerful, hearty voice.
IN Seeing the chair safely on the way up,
AZ began to climb the stones to go up as she b
= come down She was nearly at the top, q
&c those above were watching her with breathe
ry interest, when another stone gave way, and 4
9 n tell DaCk.H n Vi uOIfOE IObS OIl Tue dlI.
IS 81 am alive ~ she cried, ''don't fear, moth
Of it has only fallen on my legs; lower the rope
IS. l can hold on by my hands"
- With frantic eagerness she tried TO rise
the heavy stones across her limbs held her p
le ned fast Awful visions of dying there float
ID with fearful distinctness through her brain, al
with wild cry she tainted.
lie Struck with admiration at her heroic condu
= and horror at her accident, one of the m
placed himself in the chair, and was lowered
ui rescue her, When he again came up, with I
= small insensible figure lying so still and pale
OF his arms, there was a unanimous muTmur
as sympathy through the now large crowd. I
souire's son, young Ralston, had tainted aga
,ls on reaching the mouth of the quarry, and be
, carried home-and all the rough men and sy
~ pathizing women who had braved the storm
D' aid the aman lost in the quarry" gathered abe
the little figure. Gentle hands lifted her fro
e- the arms of her deliverer; and she was carr
on to the little cottage. Her mother, chilled q
he despairing, laid her upon the little bed VIII
in Georgey crept from his stool by the fire to ga
n, at his sister, whom he had last seen SO full
N life and energy, and who now lay SO still a
white The room was cleared Of all but f
sympathizing neighbors; and the doctor bt
raj over the little inanimate form.
ed I spare my readers the details. Five wee
lar later, Jessie sat upon her little armchair, vi
he the consciousness that thai was her place
ell the rest of her lifetime Ifyou had raised t
he shawl that covered her limbs, you would ha
tsr seen that both legs were amputated just belC
the knee. 1t was hard, it was bitter, to have
her young dreams of life eEd in this. Jesl
murnured loudly. Her mother in vain tried
et- check the bitter tears that would fall from
he poor child's eyes. She had been sitting alO
one afternoon, full Of bitter, melancholy fol
,;s bodings when carriage stopped before {
= = window. A young man wrapped in lar
ne cloak, got out first, then lady. Jessie kne
them. It was young Louis Ralston and /
mother. Mrs Ralstoa had been very kind