The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1871-04-22

full for the dream itself, barring that
Mary cried when 1 told her, end said
that maybe it meant that wee Bessie
would soon be put under the daisies.
There's Bessie's tap" he added; "the
child lets me know when she awakes !;
will you go in?n
latch of rude door that led into a
little, closet-like room. The ceiling
was very low There was one large
window and close to that the clean
bed of the sick child was drawn. A
smile, sweet and glad, crossed the pale,
Wan face Her hand nestled contidlng
" in his.
"Well, Bessie" he said, els the
pain gone ~
eyes sir, thank you," she replied in
voice like soft sweet music.
"And you look happy that tells me
hat the soul is we'll"
ooh, always well," and an indies
cribly rapturous expression flashed
over her face.
"You hear the children at play,
sometimes?"
eyes; [ love to hear them. Mother
cries because [ am lying here SO help
less, when they are running about, but
[ don't mind SO reTy much.
Don't you feel as if you would like
to go out and play with them 2"
Never could he forget the look she
gave him, half sad, half smiling. MOI
the answer that followed, slowly.
"What good would it do to fee
so?n
Hesaid afterwards there was a sermon
in that sentence.
Just then a pale woman entered
She, too, greeted the minister with one
of her cheeriest smiles. She had lusi
run over, she said, to get some dinner
/ for her husband, and Mrs Clark hao
sent such a nice bowl of broth for the
! little one.
Glow good they are!" cried Bessie
! gratefully.
''AlI tired out asked the pastor, no
ticing that she sank YEARLY into tn,
chair.
ga httle-it's hard work, but it,
healthy
You have some blessings" he ven
tured again.
"Some oh, my cupls running over,
she replied. 'Look at my HUSBAND
and child There's Thomas one of tn
kindest of men, working like slav
for me and her-never giving himsel
any pleasuse while most of the men il
this neighborhood squander their earn
ings, and drink and quarrel. O sill
indeed [ can't thank God enough TO
my blessings"
"Well, well, it beats all, y murmure,
the clergyman to himself as he left tn
house. Here are two people, work
ing like slaves; sickness and the pros
pect of death staring them in the fac
and yet they are happy, aye, happie
J than kings and queens"
He had nearly reached his hom
when he was met by a gentleman
whose broadcloth, and personal appear
ance and manner denoted that he wa
pnan of wealth and leisure.
Pleasant day." said the preacher
Yes, for a wonder" was the ur
gracious reply. We've had bad wealth
re long enough and [ don't. suppos
this will last till tomorrow"
'FThe minister thought of poor
cheerful Thomas, sewing away in hi
close shop.
Glow is your daughter ?" he ask
ed.
No better; don't think she eve
will be. I've taken her here and Their,
and everywhere, but Providence, Ithinl
sometimes, seems to take particula
pleasure in thwarting my plans.
Don't accuse Providence, my friend
You have been blessed with large pos
sessions, and unbOunded opportuni
ties for doing good.
. Hang the opportunities Ibeg you
pardon; I'm i'll a bad mood, and
could add plague take the posses
slons. As to doing good, invariabl
get cheated if L undertake to do be
nevolent deed The fact is I'm in no
water all the time about some misha,
OF other. My gardener died yester
day, an invaluable man, and where
am to get another with a 1.-THE of hi
qualifications, [ cannot tell. -
The minister's face frightened.
Perhaps | can, he said.
"You 2"
Yes, [, my friend; I think you nee,
a lesson. [ want you to see poor
contented laboring man. He has
little girl who has been confined to he
bed for months; [ think, together
they can read you sermon such a
You may not have listened to, before
better than from any pulpit. f"
"Ah, L see, you've got another cas-
OF destitute honesty; but I'll go witt
you, especially as there's a sick chill,
In the case. >
That same afternoon the rich an6
portly stranger astonished the boo
Journeyman-tailor with his august pres
ence.
Thomas, said the clergyman VIII,
accompanied him, 81 want you to tel
this gentleman your dream y and tn,
poor man after little hesitation com
Piled. When he spoke of the pleas
ure of little Bessie at the great anG
beautiful change, the eyes of the ricl
merchar5 filled with tears.
Where is this little--child who love.
the country SO much he asked.
The tailor unattached the little door
Bessie was suffering from one of he,
paroxysms of pain, but though grea
drops of anguish stood upon her pale
forehead, though the sweet eyes wer,
languid with suffering, the old smile
so full of beauty, came to her Inns
when her pastor bent over her.
Good heavens! to be sick here
exclaimed the merchant, his thought.
revertlng to the luxurious surrounding,
of his own child.
There is something finer than com
mon In the atmosphere of this place