Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1870-03-11

dred cords. He knew, too, that Mr.. Ran
kin will not want TO remove the wood
for some months. as he will not draw
it till it is seasoned; but he told him that
he must abide by the contract THAT he had
no money to spare He let him have n
few potatoes. saying we could get along
very well on bread and potatoes for n
few days. Did he think the bread would
come down like mannap | took the
children out to the woods to gather chips
from chopping to keep us from freezing;
we have had no wood for a long time,
only what the children and | have gath
cred. That is the way darling caught
his death-cold. We must give him n
Christian burial. How can we bear the
sound of the ax while our dead boy lies
dead in the house? How do we know
that every stroke would not be rivcting
a nail for the coffin of another9 o my
dead boy my poor dead boy!'
Mrs. Rankin covered her face. and
groaned in agony of spirit. Was this one
Of the results of her husband grasping Q
after riches All! how many more. rs sad
that she knew nothing Of How little
had she anticipated what suffering might
arise from the bargain she had SO earnest
Ia, ro,,opai,a , ,y,;pc,
Il am certain. said she, choking back
her feelings, "that Mr.. Rankin did not
realize how much he was exacting from
you. He is not SO art-hearted u, to re-
quire the work to 90 on-now-"
She could not finish the sentence, with
that agonizcd mothers eyes blazing upon
her. rs she held her dead boy tighter to
her breast.
God be merciful to the man whose
grasping hand is stayed only by yawning
graves. How does he know that the
death angel is not already lowering over
his own household ?"
Mrs. Rankin shivcred and caught her
breath, rs the suffering woman's words
burned into her heart. She regretted
deeply the intrusion upon her sorrow
She had intended good, but sho thought
it better to leave She could not speak
for minutes, rs she stood gazing upon
that poor woman, mourning in her first
great sorrow, and pressing her tear-wct
cheek against the cold, damp brow of her
little boy Oh We mothers, who have
seen the sweet lips of your precions Gar
lings purpled by deaths vintage. pity
that wrctched mother, for no other NOR
tails can.
MAY heaven pity and comfort you.
grief-slricken mother ~ said Mrs. Rankin.
Il wish | could make you know now
much sympaihzc with you-how | wish
to serve you and alleviate, TO some cx-
tent. what your family is suffering through
nv husbands nconsderateness."
True wife! she could not give it n
harder term in words, though her soul
loathcd his dealing with that poor fam
lily.
III you will permit me, will go home
and prepare you warm breakfast, and
send it over at once; you need cup OF
tea"
The poor woman looked up, as though
she would drink it in all the good and
kindness she might find in the face before
her.
Perhaps have Judged you harshly,
ma'am. You know, and God knows, if
You speak what is in your heart; and if
you 10, may be forgiven for the bitter
words have uttered"
Mrs. Rankin could make no reply, but
her tears were more convicting than
words.
The ncighbors were dropping in and
Offering their services, and Mrs. Rankin
went home and soon sent good warm
breakfast to the family.
Perhaps no tears more bitter were ever
shed than those that poor Joe Miller
dropped upon the white brow of his
bead boy lying in his little plain coffin !;
tears OF keen sclf-accusation, rs he
thought that if his family had not been
subject to severe privations his boy might
not have died.
II did not know, o my poor lamb
how much avarice was in my heart" he
groaned, as he pressed the little clod,
dimpled hand in his hard honest palm.
How much compunction if any, John
Rankin may have felt rs he stood by the
open grave OF the poor mans child, is
known only to the Searcher of all hearts.
All did he know that though on the side
of their oppressor was power, they had
one Comforter He who wept at the
grave of Lazarus stood there in divine
compassion, unseen, WhisPerihS' ny Ills
blessed spirit, to those bruised hearts !;
1.-The lad is not dead, but sleepcth."
Mrs. Rankin wrapped her furs and
broadclo,h more tightly about her. as
leaning upon Mr.. Rankin's arm she turn
cd away from the burial, for the little
frozen clods falling upon the coffin sent
a chill to her heart that crushed out al
most The last feeling OF love and reverence
for her husband though the path of duty
Law plain before her, and she was not one
to turn aside from her own obligations.
And the contrast of their warm, costly
clothing with the thin, threadbare gar
monts of the poor mourners, was source