Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1869-05-20

ling's bstchelor heart away:
- Where did you come from, and hew
did you find your way here alone, you
poor little thing?"
Sister Annie sent me, ma'am. She
had done your embroidery, and she
thought, if she could only get the money
for it to pay Mr.. Jenkins, may be he
would let us stay in the room till she got
a little better"
"She is sick, then ?n 4
"Yes'm. She didn't feel well enough
to come. 1t has been hard getting along
all summer, for the ladies she works for
were almost out of town, and ssme Of
them owing her; and 1 s'pose the worry
and not having much to eat did 1t,
ma'am.n o..
Mrs. Stirling leaned toward the little
creature, and looked at her more closely.
Could it be hunger, she thought, that
made those blue eyes look SO large and
the skin SO transparent? Was this little
thing actually suffering fer bread, and
she going to spend five hundred dollars
in one evening, feasting those who never
felt q want even Of dainties? She knew
net what thoughts had been in her hus-
bands mind when he spoke of suffering
ameung the poor. She said pleasantly
"Well, child, you must have some
luncheon, and then 1 will go with you to
see your sister. / had better speak to
her about the work"
"Isn't it right? Can't you pay her ?"
The child gave a start OF alarm ana
spoke with the premature womanliness
and natural apprehensisns of misfortune
which are among the saddest fruits OF
poverty.
Mrs. Stirling relieved her with ready
sympathy.
It's done beautifully; but want to see
your sister about some more, and per-
haps can do her good.
1t wsuld have made the kind lady's
heart ache could she have seen the
eagerness with which the half-famished
child devoured the lunch which was set
before her in the kitchen.
In IA few moments they were ready to
start, Mrs. Stirling had replaced her
velvet mantle by Scotch shawl, her
French hat by a simple straw; and with
basket in hand containing few daln-
ties with which she hoped to tempt the
sick girls palate, she followed the child
across the city toward C street-a
locality hitherto terra incognstd to her.
In half-dilapidated wooden house,
| in a narrow court, she found the object
of stairs and entered back room light
ed by one window. The atmosphere
struck her, in spite Of her warm attire,
with sudden chill.
Evidently the sun never came there.
The dampness on the wall, the general
aspect of gloom and cheerlessness, was
only relieved by an air of scrupulous
neatness which prevailed every thing.
Mrs. Stirling had already noticed this
quality in the attire of the child, which,
though cheap and poor and patched, was
as immaculate in its cleanness as her
own.
At the window, attempting to sew,
the older sister sat, but she was evidently
very ILL.,, Every now and then spasm
of coughing seized her, which compelled
her to lay down her work and clasp both
her hands to her side, while the paleness
of her thin cheek flushed into hectic
Mrs Stirling had not seen her before
since spring, the work returned that
morning having been sent by servant.
She went to her and sat down in chair
which stood near.
"Your sister said you were sick, and
20 came to see if could be Of any use
to you,n she said, in gentle tones, which,
of themselves, carried o certain comfort
with them. You have changed terri
bly, since spring. / msst hear all about
| it ; but I want you should eat what /
have brought you here is some jelly,
and bit of cold chicken-they will do
you goed."
The poor girl looked at the viands
with the involuntary greediness of hun
ger. Then she 5lushed deeply, and said
in low voice:
al am very grateful. madam; but if
you please, 1 will wait until you leave
me. Allow me at present to attend to
you."
"No, indeedW Mrs. Stirling spoke
in her pretty absolute fashion. I" 1 am
not going yet. 1 want to talk with yeu
awhile, and shall not do SO until you
have taken something to strengthen
you. Little Jane has lunched already"
So the gay, bright lady sat, and wait
actively useful, agenuine glow of delight.
When the girl had finished her generous
meal and,taken up her work again Mrs.
Stirling began TO talk to her."
I" Is this consumption, Annie?" she
asked, gently, Your cough alarms me"
"No, ma'am, / am very sure it is
nothing of the kind yet. There is no
consumption in our family. My father
was country minister, and had strong
and healthy constitution. He died
young, but it was from a violent fever
caught in attendance on sick stranger.
| think it was grief that made my moth
er follow him il three months. She
had always been delicate, though not
sickly, and she lacked the strength it
required to live and suffer. 1t is seven
years since she died, on the very day lit
tie Jane was born"
"How old were you then ~
"Fiftsen, and there were no living
children between us two"
"And have you Unsupported dyourselfand
her ever since?"
"Oh no. My fathers books and fur
niture sold fer enough to keep us some
time, and my aunt, who lived here,
brought us to Boston. We beth lived
with her. She took care Of Jane, and 1
worked in shop, and earned enough to
buy our clothes and help Aunt Martha
with the living. 1t is only since she
died, three years ago, that l have been
all alone with Jenny"
"You came out of the shop then ?n
(" Yes because L could not have Jenny
there with me, and she had no one else
to see to her, and indeed I have made
more money since, 1 have embroidered
SO much"
"But surely you have suffered more
than usual this summer"
"Oh! yes, ma'am. The ladies that l
work for are mostly out of town in the
summer always, and SO winters try to
save something to help US through
But last winter was SO hard that 1 had
not as much work as usual, and this
summer we have net been very well of.
had to give up the comfortable room 1
used to have, because / could not earn
enough to pay for it, and 1 suppose the
dampness here has not just agreed with
me.n
She tried TO smile, but the tears came
instead. Mrs. Stirling took her hand
with comforting pressure.
"Don't cry. Better times are coming
to YOU now. I am sure 1 can influence