Maryland free press., 1866-05-31

more faithful, or more punctual washerwo-
man than Mary, and had often said Of her,
"She's treasure" The question of her
appearance as usual, on Monday morning,
was therefore a serious one, and the doubt
involved made me feel uncomfortable
Rather than lose her, l would have paid
the dollar for the days work, cheerfully.
She was better worth that than most washer
women the usual seventy-fve cents.
II wonder if Mary will be here in the
morning" said l. speaking to my cook
Don't know, ma'am," answered cook,
soberly. 1 could see that the extra quar-
ter was in her mind, and that she wished
me to remember how had refused to ad-
vance Mary's wages.
"Did she say anything about giving up
the place ?" I inquired.
"Shc said it was worth dollar, ma am,
and she could get it-and so she can"
| said no mora, but left cook, brooding
over the matter, with no very pleasant an
ticipations. -
Iarose early the next morning, and went
down to the kitchen. There stood Mary
over her washing-tub, as had seen her on
every Monday morning, for nearly a twelve
month. 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, l saw lines of trouble
on her face
care you not well, Mary? asked,
kindly.
"Not very well, am" she answered,
in a tone that stirred my heart with feel
ing of sympathy.
"What ails you ?" I inquired.
"Johnny's been sick, and I've had to be
up with him almost every night"
whats the matter with Johnny 2"
81 don't know, maam. He's had fe-
yer, and such dreadful headache.
Fever All, l knew too well what that
word meant, for many an hour had I lain
scorched with fever, and often tormented
by thirst. My thought went realizingly
to one well remembered 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 ac-
cusing spirit charged me with holding back
from his lips like refreshmcnt.
"Is he no better this morning?"
"Not much, a'am.'
turned away from the kitchen, and
went up stairs, with strangely uncumfor-
table feeling about my heart. An image
of the sick child haunted me. I fancicd
him suffering with thirst as l had once suf-
fered, when the hot breath of fever seemed
to be drying up my blood.
After breakfast 1 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 Johnny!
Mary's hands paused in their work, and
her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, ma'am," she answered, with q
tremor in her voice, she clied so last
night for an orange, and couldn't buy
him one"
A sob came near o'ermastering me, but
kept it down.
"Put on your bonnet, Mary" said I,
"andItakc these home to Johnny. Poor
child! l know what fever thirst is"
Tears fell over her face, and her lips
tried vainly to express her thanks. 1 did
not want the words, for saw that her
heart was full of gratitude.
"I'll be back in minute" she said, a
few momcn's afterwards, and went hur-
riedly out.
"IIere is your money" The day had
closed, and the washc-woman's work was
done. l held two half dallars in my hand.
Mary looked at them, and then at me,
while flush of surprise mingled with hope
and pleasure on her face. No further word
was spoken. She stood moment, moved,
I could not see, by greateful feelings that
would not trust themselves in utterance-
then turned from me, and left for her home.
Was I not a happier woman, as I sal
amid my children on that evening, than ]
was just one week before? All, we cannot
wrong another without laying burdens
upon our own hearts. How many golden
opportunities sor gathering up life's sweet
ness pleasures do We let go by, permitting
selfshness, and narrow injustice to the
poor, to rob both us and them of the gooc
to which we are both entitled. a. ....
A trifing incident, some one may say
on which to hold the readers's attention Sc
long. Do you feel SO my friend2 Think
again, and away from yourself as much al
possihJe and nerhans tho imnreseinn n, n,