Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1871-09-16

please God, if 1 have to work my
fingers to the bone"
"You shan't do that, Thomas; see
here one ofyour kind friends and
mine, gave me money for just such
q purpose; there is enough for the
medicine; don't get up at daylight
tomorrow, Thomas"
The mans lips qUivered as his
pastor put the money on his knee.
"Tam not above taking such helps
as that" he said, lifting his tear
filed eyes from his pastors gentle
face to the heavens that smiled be-
nignly down. "God bless you"
"Does the doctor give any hope
for Bessie p asked the minister after
teNot willie she stays in this close
city air, sir, though it's a niceish
sort of place compared with some.
He says could we take her into the
country, sir, 'twould save her. But
here's the work, sir, and here, sup
pose is the duty. That was what he
said yesterday; nothing but the
country air. felt bad over it last
night, so did Mary; her heart is
bound up in the child thought
what a bit o. country air and sun
shine would do for her, and we so
poor we couldn't afford that little. l
don't complain, sir, it only come to
me like. Wife and Iprayed over it,
and it seemed almost as if the dear
Lord answered us in q DREAM
elm a dream, Thomas ?'
"Ah, sir, the sweetest dream
mortal ever had. think it made
me a happier man; do, indeed, sir.
There was Bessie on the grass, and
the flowers growing all around her.
Some were high as her sweet head,
and there was color in her pretty
cheeks such light in her blue eyes,
and such ring in her voice as she
cried out -
"Oh, father, Gods blessed, beau
tiful country H
"For there's where we were in our
dream, sir: and then L heard Wife's
voice and there she stood, sure
enough, in the doorway of a little
cottage. i can see it now; the pret-
test pictIIrei with a bit of white
curtain blowing out of the open
window, and all about were trees,
and grass and flowers. And 1 thought
to myself, my woman won't have
to slave her life out over the wash
tub 1t made me so light o. heart
that the wife said she laid and lis
tened TO me laughing in my sleep"
'T wish your dream might come
true, Thomas; have you faith to be-
ieVe that 10 will 2"
"God is able" said Thomas, soft
ly, stitching away. frI'm certain it
would be Just like him. And if he
don't see fit, you know, / ought to
| feel thankful for the dream itself,
barring that Mary cried when told
her, and said that maybe it meant
that wee Bessie would soon be un-
der the daisies. There's Bessie now,"
he added, "the dear child lets me
know when she wakes; will you go
in?"
The tailor leaned over and lifted
up the latch of a rude door that led
into a closet-like room. The ceiling
was very low. There was one large
! window, and close to that the clean
white bed of the sick child was
| drawn. A. smile sweet and glad,
crossed the pale, wan face. Her
hand nestled confdingly in his.
"Well, Eiessie, he asked, "is the
pain gone 70
eyes, sir, thank you," she replied,
in voice like soft, sweet music.
"And you look happy; that tells
me that the soul is well"
"Oh always WELL" and an indes-
cribably rtpturous expression flash |
ed over her sweet face.
"You hear the children at play
sometimes 2"
eyes; love to hear them. Mother |
cries because / am lying here so |
helpless when they are running
about, but 1 don't mind so very
much"
"Don't you feel as though you
would like to go out and play with |
them 2"
Never could he forget the look |
she gave him, half sad, half smiling,
nor the answer that followed slow
ly.
'what good would it do to feel
so? ?'
He said afterwards there was a |
sermon in that sentence.
Just then a pale woman entered. |
She too greeted the minister with |
one of her cheering smiles. She had |
just run over she said to get some |
dinner for her husband, and Mrs. |
Clark had sent such a nice bowl of |
broth for the little one.
GLOW good they are" said Bessie |
gratefully.
GAN tired out ?'' asked the pastor,
noticing that she sank somewhat |
wearily into the chair.
"A Httl,s-it's hard work, but it's |
it's healthy"
'You have some blessings" he |
ventured again.
SSome Z oh, my cup is running |
over" she replied. "Look at my |
husband and child There's Thomas,
one of the kindest of men, working
| like a slave for me and her; never |
giving himself any pleasure, while |
most of the men in this neighbor-
hood sqIander their earnings and
drink and quarrel. o, sir, indeed / /
can't thank God enough for my
blessings"
''WelI, well, it beats ALL" MUIR
INJURED the clergyman to himself, as
he left the house. "Here are two
people working like slaves: sickness
and the prospect of death staring
them in the face-and yet they are
as happy, aye, happier, than kings
and queens"
He had scarcely reached his house
when he was met by gentleman
whose br0adcloth, and lpersonal ap-
pearance and manners denoted that
| he was a man of wealth and leisure
pleasant day." said the preacher.
eyes, for wonder" was the un-
gracious reply.
"We'vo had bad weather" quite
long enough, and don't suppose
| this will last till tomorrow.
The minister thought of the poor,
cheerful Thomas who was sewing
away in his close shop.
'EHow is your little daughter ?'' he
now asked.
mo better; don't think she ever
win be. t'vc taken her here and
there, and everywhere, but Provi-
dence, think, sometimes, seems to
take particular pleasure in thwart-
ing my plans.
"Don't accuse Providence, nv
friend. You have been blessed with
large possessions, and unbounded
opportunities for doing good"
"Hang the opportunities I beg
your pardon; Pm in bad mood.
and could say plague take the pos
sessions. AS to doing good, L in
variably get cheated If l undertake
to do benevolent deed. The fact
is, Pm in hot water all the time
about some mishap or other. NV
gardener died yesterday, an inval-
liable man and where l am to get
another with a tithe of his qualifi-
| cations, cannot tell"
The minister's face frightened.
'TPerhaps can," he said.
an