Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1870-10-25
Light out Of Darkness.

body?"
The questioLer had just taken some
work in that little, faded room, and
pitying the little faded woman, so
YEARLY stitching, because she had
found her in tears, she had sat down
to talk with, and try to comfort her.
III tell you why; because I've
been deceived all my life, from the
cradle to the grave. Anyhow don't
look for much else"
"Thee will find that | will not de-
ceive thee" said the other softly.
The woman turned to the face in
the neat gray bonnet, and scanned it
for a moment.
You'll be the first, l was about to
say-the Lord forgive me. l believe
NY trouble has made me bitter, some
how. There have been few of your
kind good to me-you are Quaker,
amt you?"
"Yes, l belong to the Society of
Friends" was the quiet reply. "But
there are many outside of our society
who would be just as kind. Thee
mustn't lose faith in human nature en-
tirely.'
You see I've been so cheated p
tie woman walled again-'at least it
seems so. When was q child [ had
sJepmOther-yes. two-but the
first was as kind as my own mother
could possibly have been; the second
% my dear madam! it makes me
shuddcr to think of her deceit, her
. meanness, her cruelty. Ny father
suffered as well as for ten long years,
and at the end of that time was mar
ried. Everything promised well then;
my father gave US a house and we
were happy. But my husband-he,
too had deceived NE bis habits were
bad. For a time ali went well; it
was only gradually the truth leaked
out. tor my husband loved me, and
tried to 90 his best by me, but the
faults Of his youth clung to him.
The first time he came home drunk
l was in agony. prayed God to let
NE die, for had never seen such a
sight before. Well, need hardly tell
YOU how it went on; how year after
year We grew poorer, until with five
little children l found myself one day
in q miserable tenement house and
. something standing in the middle of
the floor that | hope you may never
see-a husband brought home dead.
"Ah! that was a dreadful time
Ny father had died, and my stepmoth-
! er possessed her part Of the property,
so that I had scarcely a friend. Still,
some Of his relations buried him, for
which l was very thankful, but they
did little FOR me and the children.
"Oh it was q trouble to live all
those years; you would nave thought
/ so, aG1 five little children to bring up
| couldn't give much time to them,
and / was so hurried and driven by
work, that | couldn't bring them up
/ properly. They mixed with bad
company. and saw the worst examples,
and I've often been thankful that my
little Lottie died, and got out of the
way of temptation. She was a beau
tiful child, was my Lottie; too beau
tifuI to grow up in poverty, and the
Lord took her. She died when she
was Just ten years Old and | kept her
in comfort if | half starved the rest. -
cried the woman with a laugh that
was terrible to hear.
Not a comfort did the darling
want, not one. | begged believe
would have stolen" she added with a
hard look, before she should have
suffered. Her talk ought to have
made Christians ofus all, for | do be-
/ Iic7e she saw the very angels of heay-
en-, days and days before she died
/ Dear little soul she wasted away to
/ & shadow" soobed the woman, wiping
I her eyes on the coarse work she was
busy on. Il see her every night, tho
/ It's fifteen years ago, lying in that
corner, her great, pitilul blue eyes
/ fixed on me, and masses of shining
hair curlS all over the piIlow-fol
the disease made her hair grow-and
l never saw such hair on anybody il
my life-llle yellow gold almost.
"Ah, dear Lord-well, it's a com
fort to think Of her in heaven, and al
most the only comfort I've got, too
| know she cant suffer, nor make me
suffer-" she added, with half savage
energy.
But what became of the rest o
thy children ?'
A bitter LOOK crossed the careworr
face.
They grew up-two boys and tw(
glrls. Lottie said they'd be com
fort to me, but I've looked and look
ed for that, and not found it yet.
"Mary and Anne were handsome
girls, but Mary did the same thing
with her eyes open, that l had don
ignorantly-she married a drankard
and is living in New York in wors
, misery than | am. But warned he1
and | don't know as I'd help her if
: could. Why did she put herself de
! llberately in the fire? She writes #
} me sometimes, bus she's always wors
Off and worse off; and now here's
I prospect Of her going into consumr
ton. She has two little children t
! live in misery, suppose"
= At this moment the postman tappe
t at the door. He brought a letter.
! The widow tore it open eagerly, rea
, it, and burst into tears.
: "Well-oh It's only more trouble
I I've been expecting it. There's ne,
I er good news comes to me-" she erie
q defantly. "The talk of God remen
n bering all his children-no, no-He
: clean forgotten me. He cares notl
h ing for me.
: "Oh, | cannot hear you talk so,
5 cried her visitor in a distressed voic,
It "Of course not, because you kno
l. nothing Of the misery that is KILN
s me by inches, day after day. l dal
IS say you have pleasant home, an
', everything to make you happy. VIII;
Il should you say if you held in yor
n hand a letter telling you that yor
o daughter writes from a SICK bed, thu
o her hus band died last week, and as
e ing in Gods name, for shelter wit