Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1871-09-02
NO. 2os.

Philander and Joe and the girls" said he,
They'll be at that husking bee half the
night, the parties designated being Mr..
and Mrs. Flowers '.hired folks"
Many of the matrons of the neighbor.
hood shook their head over Flowers
keeping two girls;" but Mr.. Flowers
stoutly held that he wouldn't have his
wife killing herself over such a lot of but
ter and cheese as was made on their farm,
for nobodys notions" 5
| But the expectant of four hundred
dollar set of furs was in no fit state Of
| mind for slumber, SO while Mr.. Flowers
took himself of to bed, Mrs. Flowers re-
manned seated In front of the fire, staring
into it, and meditating upon her unlocked
Tor amount Of property. At first her
thoughts ran riot among fur covering and
their various shapes. She was tolerably
well posted in these things. She SUBJ
scribed for one or two affairs, the burden
OF whose song was fashion and its belong
ings, and every article appertaining to fnrs
was always perused with longing interest.
After time, however, little stabs of con-
science made themselves felt, and, with
much reluctance, she began to view mat
ters in different light. a
"You know" murinured that inward
monitor whose quiet but searching voice
so often troubles us, "you know that love
OF dress has been your besetting sin from
childhood up. Sometimes acknowledge
you have striven well against it; never
have you had so noble an opportunity as
this. Avail yourself of it; make the sac
rifice you ought to make. What business
have you with such articles of luxury?"
But" argued the eager spirit of the
flesh, "surely in this case am right in
following out my wishes 1t will be a cold
winter; furs are very warm, and / am
growing old. Beside, my husband wishes
it, Shall / wound his feelings? No, in
deed n And the dame for the moment, felt
strong in conscious virtue.
Little, however, would conscience listen
to this reasoning. She scorned it. "Cold,"
replied she, sternly. ''There are less ex-
pensive ways Of keeping warm. Some
thing short of furs at four hundred dollars
can do it. What you say about your hus-
band is mere excuse. If he sees YOU con-
tent he will be satisfied"
But" pleaded keen Desire. II. have
for years so wished for just these things.
l can't give them up. Why should not
have themp There is no one suffering near
me that should thus deny myself the gift
my husband made me.n
A shutting step at the door, followed by
a knock, interrupted the disturbed thinker.
Come in," she cried, rising from her
chair.
The door opened, and distant neighbor
entered-an illfavored, ungainly man,
noted for his harsh temper, and his pepu-
rious soul. Mrs. Flowers greeted him
with surprise but he soon explained his
errand. Something was amiss with his
horses gear, and, seeing a light, he had
come to borrow a lantern.
"pm on my way to the poor-house." he
said, with sour grin. when came
home, at sundown, what should / find but
worthless brat my wife had taken in!
and she was actually hoping I'd let her
keep it. Keep it, indeed! The little rat
was in a company of tramps the constable
is after. So l guess they were glad to
drop it on the road. My wife, like fool,
believes the child's gabble, and says they
left her because they couldn't make her
lie and steal. Sheddo it as fast as the
rest. I'd venture to say. Her tale is, that
she has no father or mother, or any one.
and them tramps picked her up. don't
believe word Of it. So when l came
home-though I'd been to the mill, and it
was late-I says, she don't sleep in my
house a single night. I'll have her where
she belongs before daylight. as sure as
my name is Peter Turner. So as soon as
done my chores, Ihitched up and started
with her. Then the pesky harness broke,
and altogether, I've had more than my
share of the trouble with her."
There's the lantern hanging on the
nail" said Mrs. Flowers shortly.
"rll bring it back in minute" he gruff-
ly answered; and alter lighting it. Opend
the door. He drew back with q nuttered
oath. "What did you follow me for?n
A little girl stood on the threshold. Her
wan, wild eyed face surrounded by gold
en- locks, falling on her emaciated should
ers, might have moved a heart to pity.
Peter Turner's was too small to contain so
: expansive an emotion; but Mrs. Flowers
rejoiced in large organ of circulation.
!; Come in, child" she cried in her cor
dial voice, advancing and stretching out
her hand. Then turning to Peter; .you
can leave her here till you bring back th e
lantern"
He made surley response and disap-
peared The dame drew the child to the
fire the little trembling thing gazed at her
earnestly, as she crouched before it, and
spread her blue hands to the generous
blaze Want had stamped its mark upon
her; but though it had dimmed her eyes
and followed her infant cheeks, 1t had
failed to destroy the impress she bore of
pure soul.
"See herr cried Conscience. Is there
not suffering creature near you now ?
Will you tell me again there is no need to
sacrifice your besetting sin?n sA.
Mingled with her voice came those sweet
and gracious words spoken eighteen hun
dred years ago, and which still breathe
their accents through this sin troubled
world as clearly as when first uttered:
''Inasmuch as ye did it unto the least of
these, We did it unto me-"
The childless woman and the mother
less child looked into each others faces,
each with longing, questioning gaze.
"You are not afraid of me. child, are
you ?" she asked, laying her hand gently
on the little ones shoulder.
NO." replied the child "not of you"
and she touched with her timid finger the
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