The Grange advance., 1873-11-26
OUR YOUNG PATRONS.
From the Western Rural
The Steep Back Stairs.
BY SOPHIE WORTHINGTON.

your own stairs. Have | spent half an
hour dusting and brushing that carpet,
for you to make highway of it, with
your muddy feet ?"
Aunt Asenath's voice sounded shrill
and terrible in Charles ears, and he
crept back to the dark entry that led to
the common stairway, feeling as if he
had done very naughty and wicked
thing. Aunt Asenath was the pink of
neatness, and her handsome staircase
was her special pride.
"Show me the front stairs" she
would say, land will tell you what
sort of housekeeper you have.'
But Aunt Asenath meant to be kind
to the motherless boy whose father was
far away on the sea, adrift; if she had
known that Charlie had headache,
and was trying to get to his room the
easiest way, there is no doubt but that
she would have allowed him to pass.
How he hated that back stairway :;
the steps so steep and high, and no win
dow to let in the friendly light, so that
he had to feel his way. Next to the
top was broken stair, with piece out,
just in the middle, and often
as he looked down that dark, slippery
passage, horror would come over him,
and he felt as if he should fall to the
bottom.
But his room was pleasant enough
when he reached it, and as nice as hands
could make it. Aunt Asenath looked
to that every day, and gave him plenty
of admonitions about throwing things
around" There was his pretty book
case, with volumes of travel and adven-
ture, such as boys love, and one shelf
apart for the shells and other rare and
curious things that his father, the sea-
captain, used to bring him from far
countries. Better than all, at the foot
Of his little bed hung fair and lovely
picture Of the dead mother he had lost,
that seemed always to beam with love
for her boy.
The child laid his head upon his pill
low, and the hot tears filed his eyes.
Poor little Charlie! His head ached
sadly, and he felt very desolate. "How
hard Aunt Asenath u.s." he thought.
g Sometimes she is 50 cross I cannot
love her. Why did my pretty little
mother go away and leave me? Oh, if
she would only come back, or even if
my father would take me away with him
on the sea-
1t was very still and quiet in the
room, and presently the pain passed off.
Pleasant thoughts Of his gentle mother
filed his mind. The pictured face
seemed to him the face of an angel.
Her arms seemed to gather him to her
loving heart just as in those dear old
times. and he rested so peacefully. All
his troubles were forgotten in comfort
able sleep.
Charlie did not trouble Aunt Ase-
mathis pet stairs for one while, you may
be sure, though sometimes they looked
very tempting, with their messy: flower
sprinkled carpet, the shiny silver plated
bars that kept it in place, and the satin
gloss that glistened like china teacup.
But one day Was heard terrible and
ominous sound, tumbling, a heavy
bump, one cry Of agony, and all was
very still.
Aunt Asenath ran into the dark en-
try. There was Charlie, broken and
crushed, shapeless heap at the bottom
Of the stairs. His foot had slipped at
that miserable second step, and he had
pitched headlong to the bottom.
"Oh, my darling! my precious ~
cried Aunt Asenath, as she raised the
hapless boy in her arms He is dead
What shall I do?" For she really loved
her sisters child, though she had not
Chow could she nave?) a mothers pa
tience with his little faults.
The doctor came in hurry. Char
lies leg was broken and his arm. His
head was badly cut, and it was feared
that there were internal hurts far more
dangerous than these.
Long months he suffered, and Aunt
! Asenath, with many self-reproving
thoughts, watched over him. Day and
night she tended him with loving care,
unmindful of her own rest and comfort.
She read him cheerful stories; with her
own hands she made for him the most
wonderful dainties, and when he was
able to be moved she carried him in her
arms like baby, till he was strong
enough to hobble about on crutches.
It was half year before he was able
to limp about the house without help.