The Conservative. (M'connelsville, Ohio) 1866-1871, 1871-03-03

StiuCh, IL u Ibllc Suhb, dSd1uSb Leu y
face. She wondered how people could
weave sweet smells into piece of lace,
and if the yorlng lady knew; or if she
knew how much pleasanter it was than
ttho onions that Mrs. McMahoney cook
ed for dinner every day In the week but
Sunday, upon the first floor. But it
gave herquite enough to do, to wonder,
without speaking.
g Fifteen repeated the young lady,
standing up very straight, and looking
very sorry. "How long has she been
hke-thatln
aBorn sou said Deb's mother.
"Bhe's jest sat in that chair ever since
she's been big enough to sit at all.
Would you try gum on these, Miss T"
"But you never told me that you had
crippled child The young lady
said this quickly. You have washed
for me three years, and never told me
that you had a crippled chiJdl"
'eYou never asked me, Miss, ," said
Deb's mother.
The young lady made no reply. She
came and sat down on the edge Of Deb's
bed, close beside Deb's chair. She took
Deb's hand up between her tive soft
brown gloves, and her long brown
feathers dropped and touched Deb's
cheek Deb hardly breathed, the
feathers and the gloves, and the sweet
scented woods, and the young lady's
sorry eyes-such very sorry eyesl-were
so close to the high chair.
Fifteen yearsl repeated the young
lady, very low. In that chair-and
nobody ever-poor little girl, poor little
girl! /"
What was the matter with the straight
young ladyG All at once her bright
brown feathers and her soft brown
gloves grew damp in little spots. Deb
wondered much over the damp little
spots.
"But you could ridel" said the
young lady, suddenly.
al don't know ma'am, p" said Deb. 81
never saw anybody ride but the grocer
and the baker. 1 amt like the grocer
and the baker"
"You could be lifted, I mean," said
the young lady, eagerly "There is
somebody who lifts youl"
"Mother lifts me gener'lly," said
Deb. "Once when she was very bad
with lame ankle Jim McMahoney set
me. He's first hoor-Jim McMa-
honey"
s'I shall be back here" said the
young lady, still speaking very quickly,
but speaking to Deb's mother now, Gin
Just an hour. I shall come in an easy
sleigh with warm robes. If you will
have your daughter ready to take aride
with me, shall be much obliged to
you"
The young lady finished her sentence
as If she didn't know what to sag, and
so said the truest thing she could think
of; which is what we are all in danger
of doing at times.
"We1i, Tn surel /" said Deb's moth
er. s'Dabittrs, tell the LADY,
But Dabittra could not tell the lady,
for she was already out of the door, and
down stairs and away into the street
And Indeed Deb could not have told
the lady-has never told the lady-can
never tell the lady.
If all the blue of the summer
skies and the gold of simmer
sunlight and the shine of summer stars
fell down into your hands st once, for
you to paint scrap-bsoks with, should
you know what to say
Into the poor little scrap-book of
Deb's life the colors of Heaven dropped
and blinded her, on that bewildering,
beautiful, blessed riie.
In Just an hour the sleigh Was there,
with the easiest cushions, and the warm
est robes, and bells, the merriest bellsi
and the straight young lady. And
Jim McMahoney was there, and he
carried her down stairs to "set !" her.
And her mother was there, and wrap
ped her all about In an old red shawl,
for Deb had no "things like other
little girls. The young lady had re-
membered that, and she had brought
the prettiest little white hood that Deb
ever saw, and Deb's face looked like
bruised day-lily bud between the shin
ing wool, but Deb could not see that;
and Mrs. HcAahoney was there to wish
her good luck and all the little Nc
Hahoneys were there, and all the child
rem who did not wonder, and the grocer
turned in at the Alley corner, and the
baker stopped as he turned out, and
everybody stood and smiled to see her
start. The white horse paved the snow
and held up his head,-Deb had hever
seen such a horse,-Rnd the young lady
gathered up the reins into her brown
gloves, and the sleigh-bells cried for
loy,-how they cried ln-and away
they went, and Deb was out of the
alley in minute, and the people in the
alley hurrahed, and hurrahed, to see
her go.
That bewildering, beautiful, blessed
ridel How warm the little white hood
was! how the cushions sank beneath
her, and the fur robes opened like
feathers to the touch of her poor thin
handsl How the bells sang to her, and
the snow drifts blinked at her, and the
icicies and the slated roofs, and sky,
and peoples faces smiled at heri
"Whasis the matterl asked the
Young lady; for Deb drew the great
gray wolfs-robe over her face and head;
! and sat so, for minute, still and hid
den. The young Lady thought that she
was frightened
al only want to cry ittlei
said Deb's little smothered voice. 81
must cry a little first +"
When she had cried little, she held
up her head, and the shine of her pretty
white hood grew faint beside the shine
of her eyes and cheeks. That bewilder-
ing, beautiful, blessed ridel
Streets and crowd and ehurch-spires
were in it-yes. and a wedding and a
funeral too; all that Deb had seen in
her high chair in the daytime, with her
eyes shut, she saw In the sleigh on that
ride, with her happy eyes open wide.
She sat very still The young lady
did not talk to her, and she did not
talk to the young lady. They rode and
rode. The horse held up his head. It
seemed to Deb that he was flying. She
thought that he must be like the awful
beautiful white horse in Revelation.
She felt as if he could take her to
heaven Just as well as not, if the young
lady's brown gloves should only pull
the rein that way.
They rode and rode. In and out of
the merry streets, through and through
the singing bells, about and about the
great church-spires, all over and over
the laughing town. They rode to the