Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1871-03-02


the wonder in her ewes.
"Dear mel" said the straight vouno
lady.
II wonder if frighten hers thought
Deb. But she only wondered, and did
not speak.
"Is this your
"Yes," said Deb's mother, "the old.
est. Fifteen. I'll try my best, ma am,
but / don't know as I'd ought to prom
ise." She spoke in business-like tone,
and turned the Cluny lace-a dainty
collar and pair of soft cuffs-about in
her hands, in business-like way. A
breath of some kind of scented wood
struck, in little gust, against Deb's
face. She wondered how people could
weave sweet smells into piece of lace,
and if the young lady knew; or if she
knew how much pleasanter it was than
the onions that Mrs. McMahoney cook.
ed for dinner every day in the week but
Sunday, upon the first floor But il
gave herquite enough to do, to wonder,
without speaking.
Fifteen repeated the young lady,
standing up very straight, and looking
very sorry. "How long has she been
hke-that!"
"Born So" said Deb's mother.
"She's jest sat in that chair ever since
she's been big enough to sit at ALL
Would you try gum on these, Miss y
But you never told me that you had
a crippled child!" The young lady
said this quickly. "You have washed
for me three years, and never told me
that you had a crippled child"
"You never asked me, Miss said
Deb's mother.
The young lady m:.de no reply. She
came and sat down Oh theedge of Deb's
bed, close beside Del,'s chair. She took
Deb's hand up between her two 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 eyes, were
so close to the high chair.
Fifteen years 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 ladyl 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 ride," said the
young lady, suddenly.
81 don't know ma ann said Deb. 81
never saw anybody ride but the grocer
and the baker. amt like the grocer
and the baker,"
"You could be lifted, 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 foor-Jim McMa-
honey"
81 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. II you will
have your daughetr ready to take ride
with me, I shall be much obliged to
you"
The young lady finished her sentence
IS if she didn't know what to say, and
so said the truest thing she could think
of; which is what we are all in danger
of doing at times.
"Well, I'm sure +" said Deb's moth
er. "Dabittra, 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 oil the blue of the summer
skies and the gold of simmer
sunlight and the shine of summer stars
fell down into your hands at once, for
you to paint scrap-beoks with, should
you know what to sayl
Into the poor little scrap-book of
Deb's life the colors of Heaven dropped
and blinded her, on that bewildering,
beautiful, blessed ride.
In Just an hour the sleigh was there,
with tie easiest cushions, and the warm
est robes, and bells,-the merriest bells.
and the straight young lady. And
Jim McMahoney was there, and he
II
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 thai, and she had brought
the prettiest little white hood that Deb
ever saw, and Deb's face looked like
bruised day-ily bud between the shin
ing wool, but Deb could not see that;
and Mrs. McMahoney was there to wish
her good luck; and all the little Nc
Mahoneys 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 horse,-and the young lady
gathered up the reins into her brown
gloves, and the sleigh-bells cried for
joy,-how cried l"-and away
they went, a. 4 Deb was out of the
alley in q minute, and the people in the
alley hurrahed, and hurrahed, to see
her go.
That hewildering, 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
hands. How the bells sang to her, and
the snow drifts blinked at her, and the
icicles and the slated roofs, and sky,
and peoples faces smiled at herl
"Wh.. is the matter9" asked the
young lady; for Deb drew the great
gray wclf's-robe over her face and head;
and sat so, for minute, still and hid
den. The young lady thought that che
was frightened
81 only want to cry little. 81
said Deb's little smothered voice. 81
must cry little firsti"
s When she had cried q 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 church-spires
were n it,-yes. and wedding and O
funeral too; all that Deb had seen in
her high chair in the dayttme with her