Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1871-08-04


the dlngy apartment, A few raysfrom the
setting sun came through the open win
dow, and by the dim light he Saw the old
woman and the two children kneeling by
the low bed in the corner. she was hold
ing the hand of the young woman, who lay
with her eyes upturned to the'fadng sky,
as If looking in clouds for some one com
ing. He had come, the great angeb and he
had already taken her tot the h blsom of the
All Father.
For several years afler this The old wo-
mans life rippled along AZ smoothly as n
gentle stream flows on over a sandy bed 10
the great ocean. The old umbrella got ma
ny patch, the new bonnet grew old, aud
the black silk gown that she wore first at
her daughters funeral was turned and re-
turned to fit IL to appear on Sundays; but
she never begged and never borrowed ;
and the winter was never so hard but she
had ready money enough at command to
buy her small wares "by Wholesale"
little by little the young lads aud hun
CRY lovers who frequented the Common
came to know her; and though many Ri
val apple stand from time TO time disputed
her right to monopolize the trade in stom-
ach-ache, they soon had to eat their own
candy, and to "fcld their tents like the A.
rabs, and silently steal away"
One day the gentleman who had learned
of her his first lessons in Christianity, pass
ing her stand, noticed some new flags of
truce floating from her pippins. "who
wrote these, Aunt Betsey?" he asked, paus-
ing to look at the pacards.
"Oh, Tommy did them, si. He's amaz-
iIig smart at such things. lie can write
like any schoolmaster.."
"And how old is he now ?"
"Going on fifteen; and I'm thinking,
sir, it's about time he was doing some
thing. 1 might support him some longer,
but he's larned all he can out of college"
"What does he take TOP"
"Well, he wants to be merchant. |
suppose he gets a hankerin arter it from
my being in the business but there's a
world of wickedness between buyin' and
scllin'. Don't yc think he'd better be a
lawyer?"
"a lawyerl There's not an honest law
yer living. Let him be a merchant. Send
him down to my counting-room to-mor-
| row."
Tommy went, and so became under clerk
in large commercial house on Central
| Wharf, When he drew his first month S
pay he brought it home, and pouring it all
into his grandmothers lap, threw his arms
about her neck, and said =
"Now, grandmother, you shall shut up
| shop. l won't have no more of your sell
ing apples"
But the old woman was not so easily lur-
ed from the "walks of commerce." She
did not "shut up shop" She still kept her
stand on the Common but in summer she
staid at home on rainy days, and in winter
laid by like frogs, doing neither washing
nor sewing.
So three years went away, and then Fort
Sumter fell, and President Lincoln called
for seventy-fve thousand volunteers to
I.suppress the When Tommy
went home that night with the news his
| grandmother was thoughtful for time
then, looking in his face, she said "Tom-
my, hadn't you ought to do something fol
the country?'
"You mean | ought to volunteer" said
Tommy.
YES; if Mr.. Speegle is willing"
Mr.. Speegle was willing; and so, soor
aiterward, a queer scene was Witnessed OF
the Common. The whole parade GROUND
was in commotion. A regiment which haC
been under review was marching out o
one Of the gateways, and the old woman
perched on her three-legged stool, wa.
wildly waving her umbrella, and at the toI
of her lungs cheering the departing sol
ders. At her back sat u little mader
holding her head in her hands, and trying
to hide her tears in her handk erchief. Thi,
was Rose and Tommy was going ava,
with the regiment. He was the only sta,
of his grandm other the only hope of he
eighty years; but cheerllly, and at he
own prompting, she had given him up t,
the country. "The country had done ev
erything for him; he ought to do some
thing 'or the country"
lie was away several months, and thel
came back, reenlisted, and went ava,
again leaving his bounty with his grand
mother. After this he was often hear,
from, and always with honor; and the oil,
woman seemed to grow young again, in re
counting his daring deeds TO some paticn
istener at her apple stand. "Just +
think" she would say, with tears in he
eyes, "that poor woman like me shoul,
rea such brave boy for the countryw
At last news came of great battle
Thousands, ii was said, had fallen on bot
81 des and every morning with beatin
heart, the old woman went to the mail lo
letter from Tommy. But no letter came
and in a few days later she found his nam
u mong the list of those who, in the grea
stru ggle, had given up their lives for thei
country.
She went home that night, and the mex
morning did not go as usual upon tn
Common. Noticing her absencc, Mr.. Spec
gle went to her humble home at nightial
The curtains were down; but in the dil
light he saw her stretched upon the bee
and Rose kneeling by her side weeping
lie took her hand but something in he
face kept back the words he would hay
spoken. After moment she said: "Ml
Speegle, I'm glad you're come. | owe yo
and you owe me; but guess the balauC
is in my favor. Pay it to Rosy"
II WILL said the man, his voice husk y
She made no reply, but lay for man
minutes without speaking. Then, clutcl
ing the young girls hand, she said; "R'
sy, I'm going but love the Lord, and son
day you will be together again forever"
Then her head sank back, and she WEI
went to live in a home even higher aboN
the earth than the top-fioor of that ding
old house at the North End of Boston.
And now, all Of her that was ugly an
t all that was old is at rest in narrow gra,
D not hundred rods from where | am wri
= ing. At its head stands simple ston
and on it is this inscription
BETSEY SANDERS,
AGED 50.
SnE WAS Poor AND FRIENpLEss; Bt