Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1861-06-04

have been to acknowledge myself wrong, and
human nature is weak. Twas not quite ready
for this.
"You needn't get me those photographs"
said to Mr.. wilkins next morning, as he was
leaving, after breakfast.
"Why not?" he inquired, looking at me Gu.
riously.
1 really felt as If he were reading my
thoughts, and my eyes fell involuntarily.
"Gilt edge and pink lining" Mr. Wilkins
looked at me from the corners of his eyes, just
little wickedly.
For shame!'' answered, hiding the real
state of my mind under a show of mock dis
pleasure.
could not get Mary out of my mind. Every
now and then a thought of her would intrude,
and continued through the day. Several times
I resolved to send her the extra sum she had
asked for her days work, but pride-I call the
feeling by its right name-held my good intent
from action; and SO the day went on, and the
week closed. .---.--. ..---.-.-,-. .-.
Sunday evening found my thoughts going
forward to Monday-that day of days to house
keepers. had never known more faithful
or punctual washerwoman than Mary. and had
often said of her, speaking to myself, "She's a
treasure. The question of her appearance as
usual on Monday morning. was therefore Sc
rious one, and the doubt involved made me
feel uncomfortable. Rather than lose her, /
would have paid dollar for the days work
cheerfully. She was better werth that than
| most washerwomen the usual sevsnty-fve
cents.
81 wonder if Mary will be here in the morn
ing" said 1, speaking to my cook.
Don't know, ma am" answered cook, So
berly. could see that the extra quarter was
in her mind, and she wished me to remember
how had refused to advance Mary's wages.
Did she say anything about giving up the
place ?" inquired.
"She said it was worth dollar, ma am, and
she could get it-and so she can"
/ said no more, but left the cook, brooding
over the matter with no pleasant anticipations.
1 arose carly the next morning, and went
down to the kitchen. There stood Mary over
her washing-tu as had seen her on every
Monday morning for twelvemOnth. She
looked up as came in, with her usual grave
smile Of recognition; but the smile was more
feeting than usual, and as it faded out saw
the lines of trouble en- her face.
"Are you not we'll, Nary" 1 asked kindly.
"Not very we'll, ma am, she answered, In
| a tone thot stirred my heart with feeling of
sympathy.
what ails you ~ inquired.
"Johnny's been sick, and I've had to be up
with him almost every night"
Whats the matter with Johnny"
Il don't know, ma'am. He's had q fever,
and such dreadful headache"
Fever. Ah, knew too well what that word
meant, for many an hour had lain scorched
with fever, and often tormented with thirst
My thought went realizingly to one well-re-
| membered time, when, after long delay, a
cool, juicy orange was placed to my eager lips,
and then as my thought passed to Mary's little
boy, an accusing spirit charged me with hold
ing back from his lips like refreshment
"Is he no better this morning" ?"
Not much, a'am."
turned away from the kitchen, and went
up stairs, with strangely uncomfortable feel
ing about my heart. An image of the sick
child haunted me. fancied him suffering
with thirst as l had once suffered, when the
hot breath of fever seemed to be drying by my
blood.
After breakfast sent for few oranges, and
taking them in my hands, entered the kitchen,
where Mary was at work, and said to her:
Don't you think these would taste good to
Johny?"
Msry's hands paused in their work. and her
eyes filled with tears.
80, ma am, she answered. with a tremor
IN her voice, "he cried 80 last night for an
orange, and could mt buy him one.7'
sob came near overmastering me, but
kept it down.
"Put on your bonnet, Mary" said 1, land
take these home to Johnny Poor child, I
know what fever thirst is"
Tears fell over her face, and her lips tried
vainly to express her thanks I did not want
the words, for saw that her heart was full of
gratitude.
''l'll be back in a minute" she said, few
| moments afterwards, and went hurriedly out
Here is your money" The day had closed
and the washer-womsn's work was done. I
held two half dollars in my hand. Mary look
ed at them, and then at me, while fash Of
surprise mingled with hope and pleasure on
her face. Nofurther word was spoken. She
stood moment, moved, could see, by CRATE
ful feelings that would not trust themselves in
utterance-then turned from me, and lett for
her home.
Was not happier woman, as I sat amid
my children that evening, than was Just one
week befOre' Ah, we cannot wrong another
without laying burdens upon our own hearts.
How many golden opportunities for gathering
up life sweetest pleasures do we let 90 by,
permitting sel6shness, and a narrow Injustice
to the poor, to rob both US and them of the
good to which We are both entitled.
trifing incident, some may say, on which
to hold the readers attention 30 long. Do Won
feel 30, my friend? Think again, and away
from yourself as much MS possible, and perhaps
| the impression NAV change