The Monmouth inquirer., 1865-09-21

tie body
Half an hour later there was timic
knock on tie door, and in came cir
whom | had never seen before. recog
nized her at once for the ten-year old sis
ter of my little errand girl-recognize6
her, as one often does, by some mysteri
GUS family likeness, which seemed to van
| ish when | looked at her more steadily
This one was real actual child large
Of her age, with full, rosy cheeks, and
- ennd as beads. She came straight
up to me, and delivered her message with
| the air of one who had been taught it
carefully.
"Sister Susy is sick and can't come
She is sorry, and hopes it won't put you
to much inconvenience
1t was just like Brains" the polite,
careful message.
"And you are Body p" l asked.
eyes, ma'am," and she looked as if
she longed to ask how l had learned her
home name" Yes, ma'am; | am Jane,
and they call me Body"
ais Susy very sick ?"
"Pretty bad. I guess. ma'am. She
can't sit up, and she coughs most all the
time, and mother sent me after a doctor
this morning"
I asked where they lived, and she men
toned number on Pleasant street
"Well." | said, "tell Susy not to
worry. l shall get along nicely, and l
will come to see her as soon as | can
make time-to-night, if not befole."
Yes, ma 'am."
She went away then She had a lazy
sort Of voice, and spoke lingeringly----
quite unlike the quick, characteristic ut
terances of little Brains. How well |
remembered that first day, and the brisk
Yes'm" that broke upon my musings.
1t was quite late in the afternoon be-
fore l could make time to go to Pleasant
street. | found the Mory's living in the
third story of comfortable looking
house. | went first into a room which
seemed to serve as kitchen and sitting
room. Mrs. Mory, a tired looking wo-
man, who had been pretty once, was stir
ring something in a saucepan over the
fire. She turned to greet.me, and in vited
me to go into the next room where Susy
was. 1t was small bedroom, but every
thing was neat and clean There lay poor
little Brains, with bright flush burning
on her cheeks, her eyes glitterng, and her
poor little body shaken by paroxism of
coughing. AS soon as she could speak
she put out her hand.
"Thank you, Miss Macgregor; it was
very kind of you to come | didn't mean
to give up this way, and disappoint you
And | suppose you will have to get some
one else l thought first that perhaps
Body could do my work for week or
two, until | got better; but l don't sup
pose she'd answer"
"No, fear she wouldn't; and besides,
while you are i'll your mother will need
her at home. But I'll keep the place for
you | shall have to get some ore else,
to be sure, but I'll get them with the un-
derstanding that yon are to come back
just as soon as you are able, and they
must be ready to give up to you at any
time"
"Oh, how good, how good you are!"
the poor little morsel cried, with kindlirg
eyes. Il was so afraid | should lose my
place, and that was worse than the sick
ness"
Her gratitude touched me profoundly,
for it seemed to me, even then, that she
would never get any better; and it was so
hard to think of that poor little patient
life going out SO early, quenched in its
dawn.
1t brought on her cough to talk, so
did not stay with her long. In the way
out | said to the mother:
"Do not be troubled by any fear of
want | shall pay Susy her wages just
the same as if she were we'll can well
afford it, tor I am prospecting in my busi-
ness, and if she wants anything you can
not get her, you must let me know"
As l went out Of the house | caught a
faint, red glow of the March sunset, shoot
ing up high enough to show a glimpse Of
its splendor even to the dwellers in brick
walls Would little Brains see many
more days decline | loDged to take her
away into the country, and give her, be-
fore she died, one glimpse of the wide
stretching fields, Of sunsets and sunris-
ings. But it was too late She was not
well enough to be moved, and if she should
never get any better, she would see a
light before long such as no sun ever kin
died, breathe airs of healing, smell how-
ers that grow not Oh any earthly soil.
Her country" would be brighter than
any of her dreams---the land that lies
" very far off"
The next day | went to see her again.
| had not thought of going SO soon, but
a spell seemed to draw me. 1t was re-
ward enough to see her poor little face
brighten, and her eyes grow eager with
welcome when went in. But she was no
better She never would be, | thought.
/ asked her mother what the doctor said,
and she answered me, with burst of
sobbing:
Il don't think he has much hope of
her. He says her lungs are much naam-