The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1869-01-29
STEPHEN ARCHER.
BY GEORGE

Stephen obeyed; and she, taking a
key from her pocket and unlocking a
door on the landing, led him into a
room to which his back parlor was a
paradise. She offered him the only
chair In the room, and took her place
on the edge of the bed, which showed
a clean though much worn patch
work quilt. Charley slept on the bed,
and she on a shake-dOWn In the cor
ner. The room was not untidy.
though the walls and floor were not
clean; indeed, there were not In it
articles enough to make it untidy
withal.
Where do you go on Suudays?"
asked Stephen.
"Nowheres. l amt got nobody"
she added. with a smile, to take me.
nowheres."
" What do yOu do, then?"
"Pve plenty to do mending of
Charley's trousers. You see they're
only shoddy, and as fast as / patch
'em in one place they're out in an
other
But you oughtn't to work Sun.
days"
Tive heard tell of people as say
you oughtn't to work of a Sunday;
but where's the differ when you've
got a brother to look after? He amt
got no mother"
But you're breaking the fourth
commandment; and you know where
people go that do that. You believe
in hell, | suppose"
4 always thought that was a bad
word"
TO be surel But it's where you'll
go if you break the Sabbath"
%, sirl" she said, bursting into
tears, L don't care what comes of
me if | could only save that boy"
-" What do you mean by Saving
Keep him out of prison, TO be sure.
| shouldn't mind the workus myself,
1t L could get him into a place."
a place was her heaven. a prison
her hell.
stephen looked at her more atten
lively. No one who merely glanced at
her could help seeing her eyes first.
and no one who regarded them couId
help thinking her nice lookingat least
all in a shabby cotton dress and black
shawl as she was. 1t was only the 'pen-
ury and pine" hat kept her from being
beautiful. Her features were both REQ.
ular and delicate, with an anxious mvs.
terry about the thin tremulous Inns and
a beseeching look, ike that of an AMI
NAL, in her fine eyes, hazy with the
trouble that haunted her mouth. Ste.
phen had the good sense not TO press
the Sabbath question, and by degrees
drew her story from her.
Her father ho1 hoau n -oRobr-oI.-
but. giving way TO drink, had been, as
far back as he could remember. en-
tIrely dependent on her mother. who.
by charlng and jobbing, managed to
the only child, but. within a few
months after her fathers death. her
mother died IN giving birth to the
boy. With her last breath she had
commended him to his sister. Sara
had brought him up-how, she hardly
knew. lie had been everything to her.
The child that her mother had given
her was all her thought. Those who
start with the idea hat people with
naught are naughty" whose eyes ere
offended by rags, whose ears cannot1iis-
tinguish between ~vulgarity and wick
edness, and who think the first DUTY
Is to care for self, must be excused
from believing that Sara Coulter
passed through all that had been de.
creed for her, without losing her sim
phcIty aud purity. But God is in the
back Sums as certainly as-perhaps
TO some eyes more certainly thanh
Belgravia. That which was the bur
den OF her life-namely, the care of
her brother-was her salvation. AT
ter hearing her story, which he had
to draw from her. because she had