Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1873-07-31

began TO tell how two strangers had sought
| shelter az the monastery. Their house
had been struck BY lightning, and burned
with all il contained; and they. themselves.
aged. psor aud ftiendless. we're exposed
to the fury at the storm. Our house Is
poor one.' continued the monk. Tho
strangers lodging-fncm vas already fall.
and we are quite without the means oi
making these poor souls comfortable -
Yon at least have soand roof over your
head. and if yoo can spare one or two
things for the night they shall be returned
to-morros when some Of our guests de-
part
The widow could hardly conceal her
vexssion and disappointment New dear
hesrs. holy father. .'cried she. Ia there no,
. rich body in thu pisce. that you. come
for charity to poor widow like me. tha,
am in a case rather to borrow myself rathe:
than TO lend to o,hers!'
Can you lend Us spare bianket?' said
the monk. These poor strangers have
been ou, in storm. remember.
The widow started. What mcddlinc
busy -eody told him that the Baroness gave
me a new blanket at Michelmasy though.
she; but at last. very unwiliinsly. she
vent to m inner room to fetch q blanket
from her bed.
They shan, have the new one. that's
Hat, mu'scred the widow. and she drew
out the ole che and began TO fold it up.
Blu, though she had dwell, upon its thick
ness aud insnfiiciency to the Baroness,
she vas so powerfully affected at parting
with It that all its good qualities came
strongly to her mind.
It's very suitable size.' said she to
herself. and easy tor my poor old arms
to shake or fold. With careful usage it
would last for two years yet: but WHO
knows how two wandering bclics that
have been tramping miles through the
storm will kick about in their >leepy And
who knows they're decent folk a, ALI
Likely enough they're two hedge bids
that have imposed a pi,i!ul tale on ,ae
good fathers, aud never slep, under any
thing fucr than shock of straw in their
lives
The more the good woman thought Of
tuis, tHc muEe suc tcit SuFe W WAS tHe
case. and the less willing she became 10
lend her blanket to "A couple of cl, a:ing
tramps' A sudden idea d,ci led her
Ten 10 one they bring n fever with them.
she cried. .and dear knows | saw enou-h
good bedding burnt after the bl~ci fever.
ten years ago. 1t would BE- sin and n
shame to burn Il good blanket like this
Aud repeating "A sin aud shame with
great force. the widow restored tie blank
c; to its place.
The covc.lrt's not worth much she
thought; but my good mau bought it the
year after We were married. and if any
thing happened to i. should never for
give myself The old shawl's gool
enough for the .ramps' Saving which
she took ragged old shawl from a peg.
and began to fold it mp. And even as
she brushed and folded. she began to
grudgc the faded rag, 1t saves my bet
ter one on bad day. she sighed. but
| suppose the father must have some
thing
And accordingly she took it to the
monk.
Its not so good as it has been. bu,
there is warmth in it yet. aud i, cost a
pretty penny when new
And is this all that you can spare to
the poor houscless strangers? asked the
monk.
Aye. indeed. good father said she.
and tha, will cost me many a twinge of
rheunatics Folk at my age can't lie
cold at night for nothing
These poor Strangers said the monk.
are as aged as yourself, aud have lost
everything
But as all he said had TO effect in NOV
ing the widows compassion. he departed
and Knocked at the DIOR of her ueighbor.
Here he told the same tale. which met
with very different hearing. This Wild
ow was one OF those liberal souls whose
possessions always make them feel uneasy
unless they are bcing accepted. or used.
or borrowed by some one else: and she
blessed herself that. thanks to the Baron
ess, she had a new blanket ft to lend to
the king himself. and only desired TO know
wha, el:c she had with which she could
stiNS 'HC IOsi SUI EESESs 1Uu tue
charities Of the brotherhood.
The monk confessed tha, all the Sion
der stock of ofhouschold good. in the mon
as,ery was in use, and one afer another
he accepted the loan Of almos, every thing
the widow had. As sac gave them he
put them out through the door. saying
that he had n messenger outside; and nav
ing promised that everything should be-
duly restored on the morrow. he dcrsr-
ted. leaving the widow with little else
than The chair in which she was TO pass
the night.
Whcn the monk had gone the storm
rased with greater fury thsn before. aud
a, last one terrible fash of lic h,ning struck
The widows housc. aud. though it did
not hur, the old woman, it set fire 10 the
rnof. aud both cottages were soon ablsze.
Now. as the terrified old creatures hob.
bled ont into the storm. they met the
monk. who. crying. 'Come TO the monas-
terry seized an srm Of each and hurried
them mp the hill. To such good pu.-
pose did he help them that they seemed
TO fiy, and arrived at the convent gate
they hardly knew how.
Uadcr shed by the wall were the
goods and chaticls of the liberal WIDOW
Take back thine own. daughter said
the monk; THY charity hath brorghs its
own reward