Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1868-09-02
THE OLD GARDENERS ROSEBUD.


dew; the first. Oh may have it, Jimmy %
''Shure you've a right to yer own. Miss
shure you can have it if you wish here, let
me cut it for ye; the old man bent forward,
taking his garden shears, and carefully and
tenderly severed the beautiful flower.
It's like little child, though, a swate
little child-oh shure an it S no wonder |
love the roses, he murmured, as he held
it toward the white, dimpled fingers of the
pretty issy.
20 isn't it lovely God is good, ism t He,
to make these beautiful flowers just for US?
1t makes me love God, she added, fervent,
ly.
"Ah well ye may say, Miss-well ye may
say, replied the gardener, leaning on his
spade. 'Once was the time, Miss ISsy, |
cared as little for the flowers as | did for
the sod, and worked it because it brought
me my weekly wages. But now [ don t do
that, miss, and the blue eyes of the old
man travelled up along the calm heavens,
while gentle smile hovered upon the edges
of his thin lips
''What are you doing this morning, jim
my - queried the child.
''Doin' miss? transplanting some slips
of the same kind o roses ye' re holdin' in yer
hands, Miss Issy. By next summer, the
Lord willin' if l. IN still alive, L II cut ye off
some flowers as pretty as the one ye have. -
Jimmy, how oldare you? p asked the in
quisitive child, lowering about the old man
and watching every movement that he made.
How Oud am |, miss ?" Come MKT
| Christmas LII be seventy-one years, glory
/ be to His ma ne, answered the old man,
| taking of his battered hat and smoothing
! back the white curling locks from a scanned
| forehead,
And isliBriiget really your child ?" still
| queried the little one.
Ny child is it ? Bridget my child p he
laughed-a deri>ive kind of laugh under his
breath-''oh no, miss-the Lord forbid
none of mine could be of that sort, miss. :"
There, thought so. Mrs. Hall heard
Bridget calling you father when she came in
the yard yesterday, and she asked mother
if was possible that such homely, blowsy
| girl could be the daugter of handsome old
Jimmy. "z-----=--z-zz-ls ...---4
did she say that, miss" cried Jimmy,
his dim eyes Frightening, while he laughed
again in pleased way. ''Ah well, poor
Bridget : a misfUrtunate thing, and ain t to
blame for the face that God give her, though
she might have manners more decent.
But Jimmy, didn't you nerer have a
little girl ofyour own" persisted the child,
her bright eyes twinkling in his face like
two stars.
20 didn I, then - the old man paused
again in his work, and his glance took that
far of, spiritual expression that those who
saw him often admired and wandered at.
Miss Issy, the Lord gave me child-i
was only one. an niver dill [ see the beauty
in anything human there was in that
Sometimes, Miss IsSy, I've seen something
in the look of your eyes that minded me OF
her, butI tell ye from the first she was one
OF Gods angels, and she used her wings tc
fy away from me-but thin she was needed
inthe betther country. Who could blame
the wee birdie ?"
Tell ye about her, miss, responded the
old man, the tears very few and large, that
had gathered in his eyes, Dropping one by
one over his pale cheeks.
80 yes, do, Jimmy, if it won't make
you feel rely bad, - pleaded the child. Tel
me when she was born, and where; who
was her mother and-and-what took he
to heaven, you know" she added, with in
Stinctive delicacy.
''Ah Miss Issy, twere in the fever tim
she died, and little good, jewel, the story
do We mayhap,' aud the old man ben
down to press the moist earth closer agains
the root he was transplaEtng 1T were {
time" he added, shaking his gray locks
when them that hadn't no hope to flo t
was worse Of than the haythen-but God
merciful, glory be to his name.
80! Jimmy. if you only would tell me
, please do-that'< good man. There, that
the luncheon beIl-now Il manage it, jim
my, Bridget will bring your lunch, and .
tell her to go and get mine, and we II sit II
the arbor; so while were eating you ca
tell me the story, Jimmy-oh? do-pleas
do"
n Who could withstand a child's winnin
earnestness surely not Irish Jimmy, fc
: that pleading look made him liken he
I, the little angel that had once mad
h his home a heaven. So Bridget was ser
Q to bring another lunch, and the old ma
= leaned his spade against the garden raj
). and taking one white hand, holding lightly
). yet tendery, the two wended their way
the vine covered arbOr.
a There here my little cricket; you 5
on the seat and | II sit right here. Now tie
me all about it.
/ "Och honey, We have the winnin wa
l. wild ye, shure now; for it's thing I've NJ
spoken of to any mortal for these tin yea
at ell. Sometimes, you see the soreness
lie in my heart to this day when | brood ov'
re it =; but Gods been gracious, and made
mostly plisure to think of them both u
in the shining coorts of glory. Sometime
L | says to myself, Miss Issy. as them that