Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1872-05-17

AT last my poor boy was able to sit up,
though II would he weeks before he could
walk, if he ever did, and knew what she
had done and oh, II was wonderful The
rent paid and the doctor; and none of us
starved, sll by her work for work II was
! had come to know, instead of an idle life,
that acting. {.
Would you believe, used to go after her.
/ Baptist from the time felt concerned,
aud thei l wasn't sixteen, to that day when
] was sixty, going to play house to fetch
home an actress. 1t was like going to a
place TT give no name to lest should be
taken for one who used bad language; but
The girl took under my arm was, as poor
Dan had said long ago, as like an angel as
could be.
! When II rained, took my umbrella, and
Sne day an honest man, a carpenter think,
seeing me early in a damp place said:
"That's not good for your rheumatism,
Sld lady"
"Comc," said he, "I'll show you where
ton can see the play while you wait"
'Soe a play" 1 screamed. "why. I'd
>'ssspk myself too wicked TO live"
He laughed.
"Your daughter-in-law acts" says he.
''Not my fault" says I, old feelings creep
ing back.
"Well," said he, "now you see her
there's no great harm-as we'll wait in as
outside"
"Perhaps,' said l, and somehow he got
me in, and saw the end of the play for
the matter Of that they had on bonnels,
the ladies in the boxes, and acted as re-
spe table a. they did in meeting, and on
the stage there was house, and a word,
and n sky; painted he said, the carpenter,
but thought them real, and she, Chris
tine, opened u door and came ont. She was
saying something as ir she meant it, and
the words were good, and she as sweet and
beautiful as anything l ever saw, in her
pretty white dress, and forgot tho whole,
but was in flutter between laughing
and crying before it was over. And Iheard
such stamping like thunder.
"What is it?" asked l. "The house ain't
on fire ?"
"Its applause" says he. "They like her
and her playing. Well they may"
looked at him with a question in my
eyes. He looked straight at me.
"Old LADY," said he, "wbatever bad YOU
have been used TO thinking of actresses
don't think ii of your daughter-in-law, no.
body else ever did. Since she came. a lit.
tie Lonesome orphan, TO play small parts
there hasn't been one wicked enough to say
wicked thing in her hearing She's rs
pure and true as she looks, and don't b,
| preiudlced against her, old lady"
II am not" | said with sob
Good for you,' said he.
And, as ! looked, there she stood. court
eseyine to the people who applauded her
and II Baptist. Well no ma ter, NJ
with my umbrella and pegged away ap
plnudng her the loudest and hardest o
any of 'em. And the pretty thing looke et
| anu caught my eye, and smiled as bright Al
sunbeam, and II was at me-her bus
bands old mother and not at the whsker
10 in yellow kids and eye-glass, thoagl
x thought SO, that my dear girl smiled as
| Pegged away with my umbrella, the tear.
| pouring down my checks like rain. Anc
look ye, 'twant the actress applauded Sc
much as the dear young woman I'd seer
study TO learn her part when she needed
sleep, stitch so over her handsome dress I,
save little, the good true woman WORKING
her young life away almost, for her hus
band and the cross old thing who had in
suited her so often; the woman that, act
ress or not, was honest and earnest an,
pure, as | knew now from my inmost soul
And was deal more of a Christian a.
sat there than I'd often been in church. no
TO compare the two places, and l trust Il
be forgiven.
tucked her under my arm with kis
that night, and / took her home to Dan
and i sat down with his hand in one q
mine and Tiny's in the other, and emptie,
my heart. If | couldn't, I think it woul,
have burst.
My dear girl understood me, and we wer
mother and daughter from that day. An,
she set me, that thought so much of myselt
an example, that girl did. Trusting more
and no matter how dark the clouds look ed
seeing Gods sunlight behind them, work
ing and praying, until the struggle wa
over, and Dan well again, hearty as evel
thank Heaven. The doctor called it n mil
acle. Perhaps II was, for isn't it miracl
that lie should answer our poor prayers
l knew he answered ours-for Tiny's SAX,
Dan is a rich man now, and his wife ney
er acts, and though Hannah is well MAJ
ried, I shall end my days with my daugl
ter Tiny. She was so glad TO get rid of he
acting business; because she hated tn
spirit of the playhouse and the rest {
the folks were drinkin, paintin'. swearir
set and the theatre used to seem TO her lik
a whited sepulcher. But it was play G
starve with the poor orphan child; an
I luckily she was so good that even the the;
tire couldn't spoil her, for which I thank a
overruling Providence.