Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1867-04-30
SELECT Gale.
BESSIE GLENBURNs GUIDE.

two ancient servants. Save IN the busy harvest
times no other help was needed on the little place.
though old Glcnburn was not poor, but well
enough off TO be considered quite a great man by
the poor cottagers and TO be looked TO for many
acts Of charity. when crops failed and rents were
raised, aud COWS and sheep died on. IL was lru-
gal and careful giving. surely but it was kindly,
too and though no tippling boggar ever had
penny TO spend for drink, oatmeal and bacon filled
many otherwise empty stomachs from the Glenburn
farm and many cold feet were furnished with
worsted stockings, for which the wool grew on the
backs OF Glenburn sheep
Busiest Of all IN these works Of charity was Ies-
sic Glenburn. Her blue eyes and golden hair,
and plump, well-rounded form, were welcomed by
the poor some vision Of saint or angel might
have been, for She not only gave but comforted.
Old Glenburn and his wiir were Just little prone
to speak Of mislortunes as eell-deseryed "judg-
ments,' and to prophecy further woe but Jessie
always had a word OF hope, compassionate glance,
a remembrance that, oitentimes, whom the Lord
loveth He chastenethN
People who were in dilemmas always hoped 70
get Jessie Glenburns ear even if no more came
Of IL, rather than that Of her grandparents.
One longed particularly TO do this who lowered
about the house one bitter winter night peerng
through the crevices in the shutters from which
the golden lamp-light streamcd, and growing
colder and hungrer every moment At last IN a
sort Of desperation she tapped at the door, and it
woman
'Whas there 2" she cried. as she pcered ont
INTO the darkness. why, it's ma you, Jean
MComb and the you said volumes.
It's jst me-" said the woman, with a faint
sigh "and let me speak to the mistress. I've
walked miles and mlles since night fell just let
me speak to her. or to Miss Jessie
"Wat, an III see, ,n said Maggie, shutting the
door IN her face, and going back TO the warm
kitchen with the news that Jean MComb was
without.
jean M'Comb! What call has that good-for-
naught at honest folks doors pr said Mrs. Glen
burn
"She's come to beg, doubt" said Maggie
I've heard she and her child were starvin an
didna know her at ance. Her ec is sac hollow an
her check sue thin. Its ma Jean MComb stands
there. but Just her very ghaist.'
" Bid her come n Maggie said Jessie from
her seat by the fire bad or good it will hurt
us to give her hearing
Aud before Mrs. Gieuburn could interpose,
the old man rise from his chair, Jean had entered
the room and stood before them wretched
spectacle, Heaven knows-wan and worm and
ragged. She looked at them sadly and Wrung her
hands.
" Dnna look sac stern She sobbed. 81 can
ma expect FRIENDLY welcome but Just hae pity
I'd ma hale crossed your sill but Tor the BARN. I'd
haze starved my ain ser. but how could | see him
deey And he will il | Gamma feed and warm him
KIN LETT but my brlther at Aberdeen, and be cursed
me long ago and wouldna lift his hand to save me.
An I've come to ye not as an auld time friend. but
as a beggar. Gle me bread for my BARN, an I'll
pray day and night for ye.n
Gin We had prayed for yourself, Jean, long
ago 'twculd have been better for We said Mrs.
Glenhurn
''And as Cor the bsirn,.ts sin as We know
well, Jean M'Comb, that he's here at a. But It's
bis fault, and that's why I'll cen listen to ye.
Maggie, til the sack with the same ye gave Ann
Holt, puir honest body. and gle it to Jean. Ye
may keep the sack, for it's auld.
And the broad back was turned, and the stern
eyes bent upon the knitting, determined not to see
the tear-staued face again
Poor Jean; once she had been a welcome guest
beneath that roof Formerly she had often sat be-
fore the fire, with her arms around Jcssies waist
for they bad been friends though she was six years
the elder Now, no one hade her sit no one
gave her hand or smile. Even Jessie only hid her
face and wept.
Maggie filed the sack and put it on Jeans
shoulder, and the girl crept out into the night
with anguish in her heart. She had been very
proud once, and now it was only the BARN that
kept her from tlinging the cold gift of charity up
on the door, and going away TO starve, But the
BARN WAS remembered and for his sake she thanked
them she went
But on the porch the keen wind cut her like
knife through her thin clothing, and she drew
q
from the cold plunge into a bath, but in that mo-
ment two arms were thrown about her, and warm
cheek touched her own. Jessie had followed her.
She had rough frieze cloak ON her arm, and this
she folded softly about Jean, and whispered
/ 80, puir lass Twill break my heart to think
of ye tonight. l Gamma forget the auld times, if
the rest can
And then Jean wcpt on her breast.
"Ye were aye an angel, Jessie" She said, sadly.
I've been an i'll woman, but I've ne'er learnt not
to love ye,'
d" darena stay said Jessie, "but l'll ma for
get ye. I'll see We soon, somewhere, Al Snif l
had ma had mther's mither to care for me when
my ain mither died | might have known better
than you"
INA, ma said Jean, ~ knew better, but
listened to the devil when he tempted me. The
guide God bless ye, Jessie. Yer pity is warmer
60 my heart than the warm cloak yeve Mapped
aboot me-"
And Jean kissed her once more and stole away
US she tramped through the snow along the drear-
ry road
All through the bitter night, Jessie thought of
her wretched friend, and in the morning she
betimes, full OF plans for her good-plans in which
she knew the Old people would not cooperate
Jean had once said that il she were away from the
place where all knew her, she would be able to
tsI,,