St. Charles City Republican intelligencer. [volume] (St. Charles City [Charles City], Iowa) 1857-1861, 1860-06-14

/ down because we look tnat poor moth
crlcss thing under our roof, when she
wonld have to be put in the poor-housc
or among strangers that would abuse
her. tell YOU and here the tears
flashed right out into the little wo-
mans eyes, and the sOftcncd voice
gathered new strength and fervor-
"cvcry mouthful | cat would choke
me, and my pillow, when | lay down
on it at night, would be full of thOrns
to me thinking Of that poor little lamb
among cold-hcartcd, cruel strangers"
Mr. Strong muttcred something
that sounded very much like "wo-
mans nonsense" but somehow the
words didn't get fairly out Of his
| throat
| Mrs. Strong went up to her hus-
band and laid her hand on his arm,
and the pale, faded face shonc with
something that was finer than the lost
beauty of its girlhood, as she said,
| Now, father, there's no use tryln',
you know you'll never let that child
suffer SO long as you've got a roof to
cover you or a crust to eat
" Well, wife, take your own way
never was good at argufyin' with
women and the man turned abrupt
y and went out of the house, ashamed
TO own that his warm, true heart en-
dorscd every word that was spoken.
In a minute, however, the kitchen
door opened again.
Wife. say"
"Wcll. father
" You'd better go right over and
tell Mss Blake you've concluded to
take the child. It'll set her mind at
rest like, and just now she needs it
cnough.'
"Thcre didn't I see ?" murmured
/ Mrs Strong to herself " it's well |
know how to get on the right side o
fathers heart"
"Thcrc, now, Johnnie, don't Minnie
look very pretty ?" and Wealthy
Strong turned round the dainty little
creature whose golden head she had
crowned with wreath of white and
pink wood-blossoms.
Yes, she does, that's a fact an
swcrcd the very practical boy, as he
/ slowly drew in his fishing line.
1t was a bright, still afternoon, i'll
the early summer, and John Strong
had brought the two little girls over
to the pond, and while he hauled i'll
with shouts of triumph his prizes OF
pick crcl and bass, Wealthy had twined
u wreath of blossoms which she and
Minnie had gathered in the woods {
little way off, and wound them in tho
child's tvcSscs.
The brother and sister were healthy
robust looking children, with the
round limbs aud sun-browned faces
which tell their own tales of country
life but Minnie Blake was one OF
those children the very sight Of which
brought new life into the eyes of those
who love beauty. She was small and
delicate, with eyes blue and deep as
still lakes locked beneath deep noun
tains, and her hair had the ripencs;
Of harvest pears that dropped every
autumn on the grass in Mr.. Strong,
back yard.
The bloom Of two woodland roses
were set in her checks, and swcct
| smiles were forever clustering ovel
=. the dimplcs hidden about her lips.
She had resided with the Strong.
I for more than two years, and all this
, time the little orphan Minnie Blak,
e had been like a sweet flower, film:
/, their home with fragrance.
t But it had been a home where wen
l. on constantly sharp, strong battl
+ with povcrty-a battle that was light
, cncd and sanctificd 10y faith in Co
and sweet affections and tender cares
| But this summer had opened nor
G dark y than its predcccssors-ior MI
Strong's rheumatic attacks had bee
@ longer and more serious than any G
J. the previous ones. lie had lost sey
g cral important Jobs for that scaso
n in consequence OF his illness {; and hi
Q oldest son, who had Just crossed hi
t. fourteenth birthday, had been obligc
G to leave the district school and lt
It himself ont as "chore boy" to
d pcnurious old farmer in the vicinit
d oil w oOdtOrd.
=. So troubles thickcncd over the head
If of the carpenters little family, an
l. the face of Mrs. Strong grew pale
d and more patient day by day.
n "You just get away from my fl
theirs pond, if you know what is goo
If for YOU
The loud, harsh tones, broke su,
s. denly in upon the childrcn's voice.
and looking up hastily in the dire
d ton cf the voice, John saw Squil
n Morton's oldest son standing in ii
a field opposite the meadow, throug
1t whose dark grass the little pon
n flashed the silver embroidery Of i
ID waters.
r. Now, although the meadow in rea'
ty belonged to the Squire, it was I
It. gardcd as public property by q
@, the ncighbOrs, and the school-boys a
r. semblcd here every Saturday afte
at noon for piscatory achievement
amidst boisterous ,iests aud frolic
lc John Strong was a bold, out-spokC
nt boy, and the iusolcnt tones Of Il
n Suuirc's son at once reused all his bt
ligcrcnt qualities.
re The pond belongs quite as mu'
ht to me as it does to you, sir, and
id shall stay here just as long as lik
n for all your ORDERS
IS "You will, eh? I'd like to kno
le what right you, poor beggar Of
carpenters son, have to speak to Il
e, in that way" and Robert Morto
a whose naturally overbearing dispo'
&C. ton had been nurtured by the ind,
gence of most injudicious parents
&c for he was an only son-advanced
ward the boy, whose senior he W;
at by two or three years, taunt'ng
If. cracking a small riding whip whl'
lg he carried in his hand. The anGl
blood burned over the face of Jol
ut Strong, while the girls shrieked i,