The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1873-04-17
Speak Gently.

please help me a minute, sister.
ooh don't disturb me; I'm reading
was the answer a 4
"But just hold this stick, won't you,
while I drive this pin throughY p
''I can't now; want to finish this
story" said l, emphatically, and my little
brother turned away, with adisappointed
look, in search of somebody else to assist
him. k
He was a bright boy of ten years, and
my only brother. He had been visiting
young friend, and had seen windmill,
and as soon as he came home, his ener-
gies were all at work making a small one,
for he was always trying to make tops,
wheelbarrows, kites, and all sorts of
things, such as boys delight in. He had
worked patiently all the morning with
saw and jack-knife, and now it only
needed putting together to complete it,
and his only sister had refused to assist
him, and he had gone away with his
young heart saddened.
/ thought of this in the fifteen minutes
after he had left, and the book gave me
no pleasure 1t was not intentional un-
kindness, only thoughtless for loved
my brother, and was generally kind to
him, still had refused to help him. /
would have gone after him, and afforded
him the assistance he needed, but knew
he had found some one else. Y ct 1 had
neglected an opportunity of gladdening a
childish heart.
In half an hour he came bouncing into
the house, exclaiming, "Come, Mary, I've
/ got it up; just see how it goesW
His tones were joyous, and ] saw that
he had forgotten my petulance, so I de
| termined to atone by unusual kindness.
went with him, and, sure enough, on
the roof of the wood-house was fastened
a miniature windmill, and the arms were
whirling around fast enough to suit any
boy. l praised the windmill and my lit
| tie brothers ingenuity, and he seemed
happy and entirely forgetful of any un,
| kind word; and Iresolved, as / had many
times before,to be always loving and
gentle.
A few days passed by, and the shadow
of a great sorrow daPl<ened our dwelling
! The joyous laugh and noisy gIee were
hushed, and our merry boy lay in a dark
ened room, with anxious faces around
him, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes un
naturally bright. Sometimes his tenn
| pies would moisten and muscles relax
and then hope would come into ouI
hearts, and our eyes would fill with
! thankful tears. Itzwas in one of those
deceitfuI Gains i'm his, disease that he
heard the. noise of his little wheel, and
said, Il hear my windmill"
! 9Does it make your head ache p ask
ed sShall we take it down2'
@Oh nc" he replied. at seems as il
I were out of doors, and it makes me feel
better. Don't you remember, Mary that
/ wanted you to help me fix it, and you
were reading, and told me you could not
But it did not make any difference, fol
mamma helped me-"
OH how sadly those words fell upon
my ears, and what bitter memories they
awakened. 4 aoH 5-,l
How / repented, as kissed little
Franks forehead, that 1 had ever spoken
unkindly. to him. Hours ofs sorrow went
by, and we watched by his couch, hope
growing fainter, and anguish deeper, un
til, one week from the morning on which
he spoke of his childish sports, we closed
/ his eyes, once so sparkling, and folded
i his hands. over his pulseless heart
He sleeps now in the grave, and home
i is desolate;. but his little windmill, the
work of his busy hands, is still swinging
in the breeze, just where he placed it
upon the roof of the old wood-shed; and
| every time see the tiny arms revolving
/ remembered the lost little Frank, and
l remember, also. the thoughtless, the
unkind words, ar ..E