Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1870-06-07
MIsoELLANEOUs.
The Bottom of the Barrel.

In city in Virginia, in the year eighteen
hundred and sixty four, knew young moth
er who, with her four little boys, was living
in great poverty. They were the wife and
children of a Confederate soldier, and hia pay
was their only means of subsistence.
Five persons to be fed and clothed out of
the pay of private in the Confederate ranks
in eighteen hundred and sixty-four! None
but those who lived there then can fully un-
derstand what utter destitution this implies.
Twelve dollars month, when provisions stood
at such prices that fear it would bring dis,
credit upon all my statements were to re-
cord them.
This little family had not always known
want. The mother, educated and brought up
in comfort, had married clerke in the dry-
goods busines, who, as Ahe prospered in life,
had been able to set up for himself, and thus
had maintained his family in comfortable ease.
But the call had come to give up all this, and
turh his back upon "wife, children, and home, !"
and he had obeyed it.
Their pleasant little dwelling had to be ex-
changed for two small rooms in large and
dreary habitation, occupied by several other
families equally unfortunate. The mother
could do nothing to add to their little funds,
not only because her time and strength we're
taxed with tho sole care of four very little
children, but because she was afflicted with
an infrmity of the eyes. Thus her remarka-
BILE skill in the use Of her nedle was rendered
unavailing.
Here was helpless little brood indeed,
but He who hears the young ravens when
they cry spread over them His shielding
wings. Among these four little boys there
was one whose infant trust in the love aud
goodness of his Heavenly Father shone like
fixed star. When his mothers heart was
ready to break with the weight of want and
woe, his little voice was always ready to soothe
and cheer her with the lesson of faith learned
from her own lips, He seemed a little COM
forter sent from Heaven to bid her keep up
heart and hope. Sore was her need of ono,
AS tho meal would go down in the barrel.
down would go the mothers heart-sinking,
sinking But this little cherub with his
clear, bright faith, took note of the fact that
the barrel was no sooner emptied then by
some means or other it was supplied again.
One day he sat and pondered over this, uu-
til thought flashed into his mind like a ray
of light from heaven. "Mamma," said the
little one, with face all aglow, "Ikhink God
hears phen zee Scrdpe the bottom Of the bar
rel !"
1 do not know how this childish utterauce
may affect others, but l cannot write it with
out tesrs-not tears of compassion simply for
such pitiful poverty, but tears Of gratitude for
such beautiful poverty, but tears Of gratitude
for such beautt itA tears e selhs iRsnc inc
tender poetry of the unconscious babe
Yes, little one, you are right. Through
all the mighty music of heaven, swelling up
in sublime chorus from the innumerable mui-
ti.ude, that little dreary sound of earthly need
has reached the ear of infant Pit= He has
heard, and He will relieve.
have taken up this little note Of triumph
and sounded it on, hoping it may reach other
ears besides those of the mother to whom it
was first uttered-that it may cheer other
weary hearts besides hers.
When all the springs of comfort seem to
fail think not, o fainting pilgrim, that You
are forgotten in yonr need, for as surely az
there is God in heaven, "He will hear when
you scrope he bottom Of tte barrel
lAdpoace.