Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1873-09-25

Ike Lhc, tuat am IN a case rather to Dor.
row myself than to lend to othersen
Can yon lend us spare blanket?''
SAID the monk. These poor strangers
have been out in the Storm remember
The widow started. What meddling
busybody told him that the baroness cave
me a new blanket at Michelmas?" thonobt
She; but at last, very unwillipglv. She
went to an inner room to fetch a biank of
from her bed.
"They shan't have the new one that's
flat" muttered the widow; and she drew
out the old one, and began to fold it up,
But though she had dwelt upon its thick
ness and insutficiency to the baron es s
she was so powerfully affected at parting
with It, that all its good qualities came
strongly to her mind
Its very suitable size," said she to
herself, land easy for my poor old arms
to shake or fold. With careful usage if
would last for years yet; but who knows
how two wandering bodies that have been
tramping miles through the storm will
kick about in their sleep. And who
knows if they're decent people at all
Likely enough they're two hedge birds,
that have imposed pitiful tale on the
good fathers, and never slept under any
thing finer than a shock of straw in their
lves'
The more the good woman thought of
| this, the more she felt sure it was the
case, and the less willing she became to
| lend her blanket to "a couple of cheating
tramps." A sudden idea decided her.
Ten to one they bring fever with
| themn' she cried; land dear knows |
saw enough good bedding burnt after the
black fever, ten years ago. 1t would be a
c mr. oh 70,
like thisn' And repeating, "a sin and a
shame' with great force, the widow re-
stored the blanket to it's place
The coverlet's not worth much" she
thought; but my good man bought it the
year after we were married, and if anv-
thing happened to it [ should never for
| give myself The old shawl is good
| enough for tramps." Saying which she
took ragged old shawl from peg, and
began to fold it up. And even as she
brushed and folded, she began to grudge
! the faded rag. 1t saves my better one
on a bad day" she sighed, & but | sup
pose the father must have something's
And accordingly she took it to the
monk. Its not so good as it has been,
but there's warmth in it yet, and it cost a
pretty penny when new
And is this all that YOU can spare to
| the poor hOuseless strangers ?" asked the
monk.
q" All, indeed good father" said she,
and that will cause me many twinge
OF rheumatics. Folks at my age can't lie
cold at night for nothing'
These poor strangers" said the monk,
" are as aged as yourself, and have lost
everything"
But as all he had said had no effect in
! he, : 4
parted, and knocked at the door of her
neighbor. Here he told the same tale,
which met with very different hearing.
| This widow was one Of those liberal
souls whose possessions always make
them feel uneasy unless they are being ac-
cepted, or used, or borrowed by some one
else; and she blessed herself that, thanks
to the baroness, she had a new blanket fit
70 lend to the king himself, and only de
sired to know what else she had with
which she could serve the poor strangers,
and requite the charities of the brother
hood.
The monk confessed that all the slender
| stock of household goods in the monas-
ferry was in use, and one after another he
accepted the loan of almost everything
the widow had As she gave them he
put them out through the door, saying
that he had a messenger outside; and
having promised that everything should
be duly restored on the morrow, he de
parted, leaving the widow little else than
the chair in which she was to pass the
night.
When the monk had gone the storm
ragged with greater fury than before, and
at last one terrible flash of lightning
struck the widows house, and, though it
did not hurt the old women, it set fire to
the roof, and both cottages were soon
ablaZe Now, as the terrified old crea-
lures hObbled out into the storm, they
met the monk, who, crying "Come't0 the
monastery - seized an arm of each, and
hurried them up the hill. To such good
purpose did he help them that they
seemed to fly, and arrived at the convent
gate they hardly knew how.
Under shed by the wall were the
goods and chattels of the liberal widow.
Take back thine own, daughter" sad
the monk; "thy charity hath brought its
own reward"
But the strangers, good father" said
the perplexed widow.
you are the strangers answered the
monk; " and what thy pity thought meet
to be spared for the unfortunate, Heaven
in thy misfortune hath spared to thee. u
Then turning to the other widow, he drew
the old shawl from beneath his trOck, and
gave it to her, saying, Il give you JOY
dame, that this hath escaped the flames
1t is not so good as it has been; but there
is warmth in it yet, and it cost Il pretty
penny when new"
Full of confusion, the illiberal widow
took back her shawl, murmuring, Lack
aday! If | had but known it WIS our
selves the good father meant"
The monk gave shrewd smile.
CAV. ay, it would have been different, |
doubt not" said he; but accept the les
son, my daughter and when next thou art
called upon to help the unfortunate, think
that it is thine own needs that would be
served; and it may be thou shalt judge
better of what thou canst spare
As he spoke, a flash Of lightning lit up
the ground where the monk stood, max
ing a vast creole about him in the dark
ness of the night. In the bright light his
countenance appeared stern and awful Ia
its beauty, and when the flash had past
the monk had vanished also.
Furthermore, when the widows sought
shelter in the monastery, they found that
the brotherhood knew nothing Of their
strange visitor.
How Young Men Fail.
THERE is Alfred Sutton home with MS
family to live on the old folks" SAID one
neighbOr to another. 1t seems nara
e.. IL I. =, n