The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1867-02-26
The Little Psuper.
By FRANK LEE BENEDICT.

I-ou, uOH =, uOu "
Such an appealing cry that it might
have softened the heart Of granite i'm
Iage--such pale, terror stricken face that
looked up with its childish eyes wild
with fear--such a worn, wasted little
creature, altogether, that clung so des-
pairingly to the woman's hands, and
pleaded for mercy in that despairing
voice.
/ But there was neither mercy nor COM
passion in the womans conference.-the
only forced him more roughly out of the
school-room where the children had
i watched the scene, few precoeiously
hard hearted from the evil lessons of their
Il young lives laughing viciously, but most
of them doing their best to keep back
their tears lest they should share their
fcompauions fate.
Perhaps the eteacher did not realize her
own cruelty-she had been sorely tried
all day. She was tyrsnnical by nature,
and the almost absolute power which she
had welded for years had warped and
distorted her soul She was really incara-
BILE of understanding how a disbolical
cruelty animated her, when she believed
herself administering justice, and carry
ing out to the letter the stern laws she
had laid down for the government of
those hapless children.
1t was only acharitY school attached
to one of the public institutions near a
great city--scarcely child among the
whole crowd that knew the meaning of
the word home, or had any idea connect
ed with, the name of mother, beyond that
which some merciful angel might have
sent them in their dreams. f5ss -
| Perhaps the woman was worse off, for
she had borne the routine Of her desolate
life SO many years, and the recollections
of her own childhood and youth had so
completely died out in the ice which lock-
ed her heart, that no plying angel could
soften its hardness eDough'to have sum
ed any gentle dream through its depth.
Still the boy moaned piteously-
"Don't shut me upl Only let me go
will be good-oh, | viii be good!"
She dragged him through the hall to-
ward the door of the dark cellar, answer
ing only:
Il know you will | mean you shalll'
| One hand was on the latch, the other
grasping his collar, aud when she opened
the door and the awful blackness yawned
below, the child wrenched himself from
her hold and turned with frantic idea of
escape. M
"Stopl' said Miss Folsom, and the
very voice Of his tyrant was enough to
deprive his limbs Of all strength. He
could only fall on his knees, his utterance
gone, and only dull, dry sob when he
strove to plead anew.
"You'll try to run away, viii you?' she
exclaimed, lifting him up and shaking
him violently, "[ll teach you who is
mistress here! Down With you'll Now
Just sit there in the dark, and think what
I've read to you in the Bible about the
bad boys being eaten by bears
She pushed him down the steps; the
shutting Of the door drowned the last
vail of anguish which he found voice tc
utter, the key turned in the lock, and
Miss Folsom went back to her other du.
ties. 81,
Charley Gates-he absolutely had q
name-had once known a mothers love
and been cared for and prayed over, but
it was long while ago-oh, long, long
while, it seemed to him, poor little limo
Icent.
| He was not eight years old yet-les:
than two years before, poverty and sick.
ness had driven his mother into the hos
pital, and when she died there, Charley
was placed among the asylum children
and came under the charge of Miss Fol
lsom. 4se
/ A pretty, timid boy, with golden hail
that ought to have had gentle hands tC
brush tia delicate, nervous organiza
Ition that needed constant care and ten
derness. But alas for the weakness o.
public charities, ,gentleness and tenderness
cannot be hired, and the world over peo
pie notable fer a talent where government
is, concerned, are likely to be little
wanting in the matter of heart.
There he sat, crouched on the steps
SO paralyzed by fright that he could no
; even hide bis face in his hands-so blind
! ed by the sudden darkness that he coulC
see nothing-expecting every momen
some terrible thing would seize him
: mad almost, with child s terrible mad
ness-ap imprisonment just as frightfu
as dungeon for life would be to a mai
lob, poor baby boy, with no more hop,
, than If the blackness must be eternal ant
!. Heaven SO far away!
y When be could think at all, be SCENE,
= to be trying to pray-the little prayer bi
: mother had taught him in the life tha
: lag such worlds back il the shadow, ,neve
forgotten even in the desolation of tn,
present existence; and oh, such differen
prayer from those which good peopl
came into the schooIroom and made.
"Mosherl motherl'' 80.
u He cried out unconscieusly-th praye
brought her so vividly into his thought
that it seemed that she must help him
!! but there was no response.
Every moment was aliie-eyery heart
!, beat a torture. ! tell you cannot exag
! : gerate the suffering Of punishment lik
that. ] can scarcely fnd charity enougl
to be willing that God should forgiv
such cruelty to one of his innocentsl
] He had been there SO long-she mus
be eoming-was she near? Nothing
nothing--not sound but the throbbinl
lof bis own heart, which sounded like