The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1873-05-08

morrow"
"But, we've no fire and nothing to eat,
and my little sister is sick, called the
boy pushing up the grand stairway,
"Shut that door, FOnchion! !" COM
manded Miss Gracia. And the door
was closed in his face.
From the porch at the parlor window,
Pansie watched the whole scene, her
violet eyes distended with childish
amazement.
"Poor little boy" she said as Ross
disappeared down the stairway, "Sister
Graca ought to pay him. 1t must be
dreadful to have no fire and nothing to
eat"
She stood for moment, balancing
herself on the tip of one dainty foot,
her rosebud face grave and reflective;
then n sudden thought flooded her blue
eyes with sunshine, and snatohing some
thing from the table, she started down
stairs. The servant had just closed the
street door, but she Auttered past him
like huming bird and opened it,
On the steps sat Ross, brave little
fellow that he was, his face in his
hands, sobbing as if his heart wonld
break.
"What's the matter, little boy?"
questioned Pansie.
Ross looked up half believing that it
was the face of an angel looking down
upon him through the whirling snow
go, / cannot go homo without the
money" he sobbed; poor mother
worked hard and Flora is sick and so
hungry"
Pansie's eyes glistened like stars.
"Here," she said, edo you take this
little boy, and buy her lots O nice
things.-'Tis worth great deal papa
bought it for my birthday present, but
do You take it and welcome"
She extended her dimpled hands and
something like u shower Of falling stars
tinlled to the boys's feet. He caught
it up in amazc--a necklace of emeralds,
lustrous, cleaning things, set in tawny
Indian gold.
"No, no" he cried, running up to
where she stood, 81 can take this neck
lace-take it back.
But Pansie shook her curly head.
you shall take it, she commanded,
imperiously. GIVE lots Of jewelry and
fine things-ruu home now and buy your
sister something to eat.
She closed the door with bang, and
Ross stood irresolute in the stormy
gloom. Should he ring the bell and re-
turn the jewels to Pansie's father, or
should he do as she had bid him? He
thought of his mother and poor hungry
little Flora watching wishfully for his
return He could not go back and see
them starve. With sudden feeling of
desperation, he thrust the glittering
necklace in his bosom and dashed down
the snowy street.
The gas light blazed brilliantly in
fashionable iewelry establishment, and
it's bland proprietor looked down in
Quiringly on little Ross as he approach
ed the glttering counter.
"'Would you like to buy this, sir?"
There was tremor in the boys voice
as he asked the question, and the hand
that held mp the emerald necklace shook
visibly. The lapidary took the gems,
examined them closely for moment,
and then shot sharp glance at the
child.
"See here" he said presently, his
voice stern and commanding, 81 want
to know how you came by this?
The boys clear eyes fell, he blushed
and stamm red, evidently embarrassed.
The ieweler put aside the emeralds, and
and taking the lads arm, led him into a
small ante-roOm.
"You are o thief, sir" he added.
"That necklace belongs to Mr.. Fontenay
he bought it of me not one month
ago. You stole it. You are Il thief"
The little fellow Strengthened himself
and his brown eyes blazed
"I am no thief" he retorted "a
kind little girl gave it to me, and know
it was wrong to take it, but-but-my
mother and sister are starving
The ieweler hesitated.
"You don't look like thief, he said,
"but will send for Mr.. Fontenay, that
will settle the matter at once"
He dispatched message accordingly
and Ross sat down in one corner, and
sobbed bitterly as he heard the driving
winds, and thought of his mother and
poor little Flora. In half an hour Mr..
Fontenay came, bringing his daughter,
; little Pansie, with him. The little
creature darted like humming bird,
, her cheeks ablaze, her eyes flashed like
; lightning.
"He didn't steal my emeralds !" she
cried. "I gave 'em to him to sell 'em
1 and buy bread for his little sister"
Ross sprang to his feet, struggling
t hard to keep back his tears. He put
r ut his little brown hand which Pansie
= instantly clasped in her chubby palms,
2 81 am not thief, SIR" he said at
| last, addressing Mr.. Fontenay;" 81
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