Juniata sentinel. [volume] (Mifflintown, Pa.) 1846-1873, 1872-03-06
Stlstt Storp.
A TRUE STORY WITH A FAIRY IN ii

piece of all this treasure, what 4 glad
girl l should be!''
Little Rose Dibble stood at the corner
of two streets. holding fast to her grand
mothers hand, while she gazed with
wide open eyes into a window rich with
gold and silver ware, which seemed to
her an inexhsus,ible mine of wealth.
1t was a dreary night in December,
aud chilly winds. carrying the snow
fakes hither and thiiber. blew her hair
in golden tangles ali about her white
face.
You will never have that, Rosie,
through me-"
Wien her grandmother said that
Rosie hastened her steps, holding her
breath as she passed bv the beautiful
windows; for the Breath that came over
her little lips was the breath of desire,
so hard for child to control.
She did seem to feel the cold that
night. pc rhaps because the wind of ad
versity had been blowing cold upon her
young life ever since che could remem-
Der. And just then, too. her heart was
so warm with the fire of sweet faucies
But the heart in Rosie's body was a
.iender one, and as the shiver which ran
through her grandmother's frame, she
tightened her hold on her withered hand
hurryirg more swiftly along the snowy
footpath.
They were soon out of the city with
snow like a cloud about them, the bright
lights fading like dream in the dis
tance, aud their home, poor and cheer
less though it was, friendly sight.
They reached the door and went in
1t was poor shelter against the bitter
storm, the two little rooms in the midst
of the wide desolate common hut Rosie
barred the door, lighted FIRE Of sticks.
and put new candle in the iron candle
.tlck; then she crept close to her grand
mothers feet before the fire.
/ Her grandmother was the only friend
Rosie had in the world. aud Rosie was
the one treasure her grandmother had
left, SO that the love they gave each other
was undivided.
Aren't you going to bed, Rosie, y
grandmother asked, at length. "while the
room Is warm May be you'll L.'oL hop
py dreams before the dawn"
No." said Rosie, shaking her head till
the curls tum5led about her face again ;
you must tell me story first. Let it
be of the summer time you used to know
when you were like me-
Little folks like you! Ab. Rosie.
child, that was such long, long time ago
that it makes me dizzy to look back to it |!
But dream sometimes of bright sum
mer time, when ! shall leave this WON
out house, drop off these wrinkles and
gray hair.. and be at home in a pleasant
garden. with the river of life flowing
through
Rosie looked up in amazement as the
dear voice dropped into silence; but
there was a emile or the wrinkled face and
a glow, like that Of the morning. over
the gray pallor Of the suDken cheeks
"Ah," thought Rosie. to herself, "1f l
might only get there too, where it is al
ways summer! - And she shivered, for
the sticks had burned out, and the Goals
were burning to asher.
But there was tiny glow on ono cor
ner of the hearthstone, and. almost as if
her thought had answered itself, low
voice like music rose from the MIDST OF
the ashes.
Rosie looked again. rubbing her eyes
to be sure she was awake, and there, be.
fore her. in plain sight. was the prettiest
little creature your bright fancy can
paint. She bad blue eyes, and golden
halo about her head so that Rosie could
not tell where the gold of her hair faded
into the gold atmosphere which surround
ed her.
"How came you bear!' asked Rosie,
softly.
"All her lifetime I have lived in your
good grandmother's heart" said the dear
little fairy. in her musical voice "Now