Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1867-05-09

desolate home he found there.
With this relief came into Ruth's
heart the wish to spend the bit of money
the hallowed money, set apart for
Eddie only-in buying one little white
flower for him to carry in his hand into
that cold, dark grave.
"He loved them so well, mother" the
child said. "If 1t is only little one,
but real living flower, 1t seems to me
1t would be easier to let him 60" And
then, with her mothers consent, she
wandered up and down before the flower
filled windows, venturing In the stores
now and then, but coming out without
even the tiniest bud.
At length her pale face, with its look
Of unutterable longing, peering in
through the window, attracted the at
tentlon OF the boy who sold flowers in a
large store.
what can this girl want?" he called
to woman who was arranging boquets
behind the counter. 81 never saw such
face. She looks as if she must have
flower but when she came in she only
asked the price of these small white
ones, and went out without Offering to
buy"
The woman came to look at her, and
her heart was touched. She beckoned
Ruth into the store, and said, kindly
"You seem to love flowers. Do you
wish to buy some 2"
IL wanted to get one for Eddie"
said Ruth, her lips quivering and the
tears starting into her eyes.
"Who is Eddie ?"
my brother. He is dead"
"Do you wish the flowers for his
coffin 2"
HE loved them" answered Ruth.
ave used to come here TO the window to
see them, and he wouldn't feel alone If
he had one He was so sick when he
came last and hungry; but he didn't
cry out there" and she pointed to the
place where she had been standing, out
side of the window.
"Poor child you shall have some for
him, and L am sure you are welcome to
| them"
From among her white buds the wo-
man selected the choicest, and In few
minutes Ruth held in her hand trem-
bling in its eargeIness, a rare bouquet.
Gods benson on this kind heart
| Those simple buds shall not be hidden
under the cold clods, but shall blossom
for her among the deathless flowers
above.
"a dead pauper child Fit him for
| his burial" This was the requisition
which went up to the proper city au-
| thorities and in compliance, men and
a coffin were sent as quickly as possible
to Mrs. Williams room.
| Ruth reached home with her precious
| gift as the Irishmen were bearing their
burden up the creaking stairs. She at
head of the stairs did not need to be told
! what it was. 1t is sound mOurner
| never mistakes.
The men were talking loudly. One Of
them was swearing Something evil
IDENTIFY had annoyed him, and as he came
to the landing upon which the mother
was waiting for them, he swung the
uncouth black box toward her and said
roughly:
"See here, now, was there liver SIGH a
cussed thing seen afore? The paint
haint been on an hour. Look at my
hands. II they have any more such in
| fernal work to do they may do it them
! selves"
"You make as much fuss as If your
hands were sugar or salt. Water won't
hurt them, guess after the job is over
the woman will let you have some
SOAP" said the other man laughing
| loudly.
'It's nasty work." said Pat. "Catch
me at it again" And he swore fright
fully as he tossed the coffin down on the
table prepared for it, and held ont both
his begrimed hands.
"Stop your grumbling and take hold.
| The boat leaves in half an hour, and we
shall have to drive like fury to get there
now"
81 don't like to touch the thing" said
Pat, shrinking away from the bed.
"Hold on, it amt long enough. 1t
wants four inches, good"
Jam it in, then. Where's the odds 2"
Unto the light" little Eddie has gone.
Poor mother, do not think of him as be-
| ing here now
The two men approached the bed and
lifted the child. AS they did so his
mother bent forward to look into his
coffin.
Rough, unplaned boards; not d pill
low, only some loose straw and sawdust
which seemed to have fallen in. Oh
such a groan as broke from her then,
nothing had been able to call from her
before.
The men laid Eddie down again and
turned towards her. There she stood,
with clasped hands, her eyes tight shut,
and her lips moving.
Was she saying prayers for the soul of
the dead boy? Pat thought she was,
and with touch OF true feeling in his
voice, said
"By me sowl, ma'am, it's bad, very
bad, l lost my little Pat, and I'd "a.
ther heave coal through forty-eight
hours on stritch than go through the
like of it agin. An sure it's the holy
mother must want heap OF them little
ones up there, for she is always alther
them, poor darlins that they are"
Pat held his black hancs out toward
her now, without q thought of the paint
that was on them. In his Irish heart.