Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1860-04-14

lady whose lamcness prevents her getting out
into the fields and forests to see the flowers
DO YOU know Willie whether there is any blood
root grows about here. ] don't know but it is
too late for its blossoms, but hope not for
want some of them very much; they are so
beautiful; such snowy whiteness to the flow
er."
al know where there's plenty, ma'am. I've
helped dig it many time. Old Granny Will
north, where used to live always wanted some
put in spirit every spring. I'll get you some
tomorrow"
"Do Willie, and any other wild flowers you may
find. shall be so glad Of them, and in return
III teach you botany at Moons and before school
in the morning, and give you book like mine
to place your specimens in. Wouldn't you like
to have u herbarium ?"
40 yes, ma'am, guess 1 would,' and the
blue eyes were very bright. Early the next
morning Willie was at the school-house with
six beautiful specimens of bloodroot, and seve-
raj other spring flowers which had peeped out
of the moss and underbrush of the forest. And
Miss Merton laid the new herharium with Will
liam Hendrickson written on the cover andfa
beautiful peace of poetry on the first page. She
divided all the flowers and gave him half, show
ing him how to anayze them, and how to press
them, and writing under each in her own fair
where il grew, its peculiar characteristics, its
medicinal qualities, if it had them, and also an
appropriate quotation from some poet, and the
language which florists have given it.
The week passed on. Fri
day night came, and Willie, instead of being
the worst, had been best boy in the school. He
was a bright little fellow, and now that his mind
and heart were engaged, he babe fair to outstrip
all his mates. Miss Merton shared her dinner
with him every day, removing thus one cause of
the boys restlessness and disobedicnce, for
every one knows full stomach, not an over
loaded, but comfortably full stomach, disposes
one to be more genial and orderly than an emp
ty one can possibly do. Indeed, we have often
thought that if the city missionaries would car
~ good dinner first to the poor Sinners and
afterwards a tract, the chances of converting
them would he much greater.
They walked home together, Friday evening,
the school maam and the little, ragged, bare
footed, almost hatless pupil. She made the way
pleasant to him talking to him of the beautiful
world that they lived in, and pointing out the
various interesting things that were all about
them; the old grey mountains in the distance,
with the purple shadows of evening dropping
over them; the green fields beside them with
the white lambkins sporting over them the dim
forests with its cathedral aislcs stretching far
into the distance; the blooming orchards, with
their snowy promises; the little brooklet with
its singing waves; the brown and golden birds
filling the scented air with their clear notes, and
lastly, the scarlet west, with the amber currents
of sunshine playing over it in gorgeous tides
And when she knew his heart was interested
and full Of unuterable feeling, she said quietly,
"What good God to place us in a world so
fair. Would YOU not like to know somethin ng
I anl,, l..
TO study that holy book of His, which He has
given mankind to show them the way to heav-
/ en- p"
"Oh yes, ma'am,' and the boy spoke dcvout.
ly
! II thought you would and so | asked YOU
I am going TO have ~i--s ia the Sunday School
and shall open it next Sunday. You will come
Willie, and be one of my scholars"
I'D like to ma'am,' and then he glanced al
his bare feet and his ragged clothes, and sighed
as he added, "but don't see how can. These
are all the clothes have to wear
1--WE thought of that, Willie, and if you vii
come to morrow morning to the Deacon's and
let me have your jacket awhile, I'll mend it W
for YOU, and here's quarter III give you to &C
to the store and buy you new hat. You car
get good straw one for that, can't you?"
80, yes, Dear me, how good you are to me
don't see what makes you so. Everybody else
frcts and scolds at me, and says l II so to th'
penitentary yet, I'm so bad"
Il love YOU. Willie. and that is why trea
you as do. An orphan myself, | can feel fol
your lonely life. Heaven only knows what
might have been. had not good friends cared fol
me when my father and mother died and left m,
alone in the wide world. Willie, I've grea
hopes of you. You learn quick, remember well
and see into things easily. You are capable o
making yourself a good name in the world
You will do it too, | know you will. Don't yol
believe it?' and she looked hopefully into hi
eyes.
Il want toi o, if l only could, I'll try. II
study hard every day, and I'll 90 to Sunda,
School every Sunday. And if i do grow Vi
good, I'll lay it all to you, for no one else eve
cared for me. They even grudge me my Wet
uals. o, but I've seen hard times and tear
trckled down his cheeks.
"Dont think Of them, Willie. Look forward
There is sunny future in store for you. Good
night. Don't forget to bring the jacket"
t What under the SUI
{ have you got in your hands, Miss Merton" sat
, Mrs. Gray, the next morning, as the schoo
ma'am entered the kitchen.
"Why, it's Wilies Jacket. I've promised t
mend it for him, SO that he can go to Sund
t School tomorrow, and I've come to beg som
patches"
"Mercy on me, but you can never mend tina
ragged thing"
so, yes, | can. Where can l find som
patches? ?'
| "Why there's lots of them in the loft over tn
woodshed. l store them up there for carpC
Y rags all through the winter and in the sprin
take them down and wash them up and sol
them overs but dear me, you never can do any
( thing with that old thing"
f "You'll see," was the cheerful response, an
G the school m0'am mounted up the ladder to tn
loft, and selected some suitable patches. 81
a ting down by the window, she ripped up bot
f sleeves above the elbow, cut off the rags an
t pieced them down, sewed up the seams agail
and put in fresh lining, and made new cuff
0 Then she cut off the torn button-holes, piece
= out the sides and made new ones, and darne
t here and there till there was not single hole
- "Has the school ma'am turned tailoress," sal
S the Deacon, as he came in to dinner, "what WI
1 ges do you make?"
e 80, good ones, l tell you. Amt goo
: hand at patching?" and she held up the neatl
mended jacket. And then, before she coul
e speak further Mrs. Gray told the Deacon who's
it was and how it looked when she brought
in.
y "You must have some hopes of the bo