The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1875-02-05

awe. Never In ner snort uIe uAu sue
seen such rooms as these she was IN.
Never had her rags beer taken from her
poor little shivering body by such soft
hands never had cool ointment touched
the great sores on her back, the chill
blains on her feet and hands never had
tears fallen upon her tangled hair. or
kisses on her wondering face.
Gently, as if she were a kings
| daughter, she was washed, and cloth
ed in warm garments, her tangled hair
| cut and brushed, and warm woolen
hood tied over it; her feet chafed ten
derly, warmed and bound up in soft
linen, and then covered with loose
| woolen socks and easy shoes.
And while she was being dressed
low, sweet voice was telling her that
she was to see Christmes tree. Once,
| q whole long year ago, Dot had heard
| one of the many children, who swarmed
in the wretched street where she lived,
| tell of a Christmas tree. He had seen
| it from the open door of church, and
| it's glories served for many an hours
description when the other children
stood in open -mouthed wonder listening
| to him.
Vaguely, dreamily, for the warmth
| and comfort were making her drowsy,
Dot tried to recall these descriptions.
| She had heard of heaven from the same
| boy, who told her that the church door
showed him a place just like heaven,
and she accepted the comparison, as she
| did all the rest, in unquestioning belief
and utter ignorance of the meaning of
| the word.
When she was all dressed, Miss Rus
| sell lifted her again, and carried her to
a cushioned seat in corner, saying
/ SO Now sit here quietly, like good
Il Il
thing for you to eat besides this
"A great bun, with plums in it, was
placed in Dots hands, and the kind
lady went away.
Far off, quite at the other end of the
leng room, she could see a group of
ladies busy about a tall green tree,
which they were loading with toys, dolls
and horses, and hundreds of bright
beautiful things, none of which Dot
had ever seen. She tried to eat her bun,
but the pangs of hunger had given way
| to sick loathing of food, and she could
not swallow.
Over the little thin limbs there crept
slowly a numbing warmth. and the little
hooded head dropped till it rested upon
the wall beside her, powerless to rise
again.
Yet the child did not sleep. The
| ladies at the end of the hall, moving to
| and fro, took fantastic shapes in her
| large, wide-open eyes, and she wondered
! if they would all rush at er by and by,
I tear off her new clothes, and fling her
| into the street again. Once or twice in
! her wretched life, she had had a gar
ment given to her that had vanished as
| soon as she took it home, and she
| thought how she should cry if her
mother tore off all these warm clothes
and sent her about shivering in her rags
| again.
! Then the great tree danced up and
down in her dizzy sight, and seemed
/. nodding It's strange, bright burden
above her head. She wondered why
/ the babies upon it hung by the neck,
and where they got such beautiful
| clothes why the horses did not prance
| about, and what all the strange, tine
| things were for.
After time the ladies went into an
! other room, where she could still hear
their voices, and the lights were lowered
SO that the long room was quite dim.
Then the child fell asleep, and dream
! came to her.
In the dream white-winged angel,
with the face of the kind lady who had
taken her from the curb-stone, bent
over her and said:
/ "No more pain, nor cold, nor hunger
after tonight, Dot"
| And she felt soft kisses on her lips,
and all faded away into long, dream
less sleep.
Two or three times Miss Russell went
| softly to Dots corner. Once to put
folded shawl under her head, and settle
her comfortably upon the cushioned
seat; once, when no one observed her,
little face, and whisper prayer. You
see, she was one of the woman-and
God be thanked there are many-who
went into the Mission School with heart
full of mother-love, pity, and Christian
charity. One who thought of each neg
lected little one as one of the children
Christ called, and who might answer
the call, if tender, helping hand was
extended to aid stumbling feet. Every
sore upon Dots little pinched body had
sent pang to this noble heart every
tear that fell from her great, wistful
eyes had drawn the mother-love closer
to her.
r; And as she stood covering the little
sleeping figure, putting the soft pillow
under the weary head, no child had ever
had gentler touch than was given the
little street waif.
ssCannot eat," she thought, seeing
the untasted bun held fast in the thin
fingers ssthat is bad. / will have
nGL16 warm m11k 1OE 0G1 WuSu bIl0 sup
per is ready. We must get her into
the children's hospital for while.
She breatl1es as if her lungs were dis
eased." sss@
So with good wishes floating like
blessings over her, Dot slept till great
burst of music wakened her with start.
She stood erect, her eyes dilated, her
whole figure trembling. Little children,
two by two. neatly clad, and singing
hymn, entered by wide open doors, and
trooped past her in seemingly endless
procession; the great organ pealed above
her, shuddering with its mighty chords
of music
Beyond, in glory of light, such as
the child had never seen, was the Christ
mas tree, q Thousand darts of fire
springing from its branches, and the
colors flashing in every direction. Still
the music, the organ and happy voices
of hundreds of children filed the air,
and the glorious tree blazed before Dots
eyes.
The pains and suferings of her whole
life faded slowly from the child's MEM
ory as she stood looking and listening,
her whole being absorbed In her &C.
stacy She forget the WretChed cellar