Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1876-02-11

Deb. But she only wondered and did moi
speak.
as this your
YES" said Deb's mother, ",ho eldest.
Fifteen. I'll Try my best, ma'am; but l
don't know as l ought to promise" She
spoke in business-like tone, and turned
the Cluny lace-a dainty collar and pair
of soft cutls-about in her hands in busi-
ness-like way. A breath Of some kind OF
scented wood struck in a little gust against
Deb's face. She wondered how people
| could weave sweet smells into piece OF
lace, and If the young lady knew; or il sh e
knew how much pleasanter it was than the
onions Mrs. McMahoney cooked for din
ner every day in The week but Sunday, up
on the first floor. But it gave her quite
enough TO do ~ wonder, without speaking.
"Fifleenw repeated the young lady,
standing up very straight, and looki ing very
sorry. "IIow long has she been-like-
that?"
born So" said Deb's mother. "She's
jest sci in that chair ever since she's been
big enough 10 set at all. Would you try
gum on these, Miss"
Dut Jou heNci tO'u he yOu ndu GRIP
! pied childr
The young lady said this quickly.
"You have washed for me three years,
and you never told me you had crippled
cbildr'
you never asked me, Miss" said Deb's
mother.
The young lady made no reply. She
came aud sat down on the edge Ct Deb's
bed, close beside Debs chair. She seemed
to have forgotten all about her Cluny lace
She took Deb's hand up between her two
son, brown gloves, and her long brown
feathers dropped and touched Deb's cheek
Deb hardly breathod, the feathers and the
gloves, and the sweet smells of scented
wood, aud the young lady's sorry eyes
such very sorry eyes !-were so close to the
high chair.
"Fineen yearsw repeated the young la
dy, very low. "In that chair-lhat nobody
over-poor little girl! But you could
rider she said suddenly.
~ don't know, ma'am," said Deb. 81
never saw any body rido Lut the grocer and
the baker. ain't like the grocer aud the
baker"
"YOu could he lifled, mean" said the
young lady, eagerly. There is somebody
who lifls you?'
"Mother sets mo generally" said Deb.
"once when Sue WAS very bad with lame
ankle, Jim McMahoney set me. He's first
hoor-Jim McMahoney."
81 shall be back here" said the young la
dy, still speaking very quickly, but speak
ing to Debs mother now, "in just an hour.
l shall come in an easy sleigh with warm
robes. If you will have your daughter
ready to take ride with me, shall be very
much obliged TO you.'
The young lady finished her sentence as
If she did not know what 10 say, and so
said the tIuest thing she could think of,
which we are all in danger Of doing at
times,
"Woll, ] am sure!" said Deb's mother.
"Dabilra, tell the LADY,
But Dabtra could not tell the lady, for
she was already out of the door, and down
stairs, and away into tho street. And, in-
deed, Deb could not have told the lady
has never told the lady-can never tell the
lady.
gold Of summer sunlight, and the shine of
summer stars, fell down into your hands at
once, for you 10 paint scrap-bOoks with,
should you know what TO sayH
Into the poor little scrap-boOk of Deb's
life the color Of heaven dropped, and blind
ed her on that bewildering, beautiful, bless
ed ride.
In just an hour the sleigh was there, with
the easiest cushions, and warmest robes,
and bells-the merrest bells land the
straight young lady. Aud Jim McMahon-
ey was there, and he carried her down
stairs to "se" her, And her mother was
thore, and wrapped her all about in an old
red shawl, for Deb had no "things" like
other little girls. The young lady had
brought The prettiest little white hood that
Deb had ever seen, and Deb's face looked
like II bruised day-lily bud between the
shining wool, but Deb could not see that
and Mrs. MeMahoney was there, pairing
onions at tho door, TO wish her good luck
and all tho little McMahoneys were there,
and all the children who did not wonder,
and tho grocer turned in at the alley cor
ner, and the baker stopped as he turned
out, and everybody stood aud smiled to see
her start. The white horse paved the
snow and hold up his head-Deb had new
er seen such handsome horse-snd the
young lady had gathered the reins into her
brown gloves, and the sleigh h-bells cried for
joy-how they cried land away they went,
and Deb was out of the alley in a minute,
and the people In the alley hurrahed, and
hurrahed, and hurrahed, TO see her so.
That bewildering, beautiful, blessed ride
How warm the little white hood was How
the cushions sank beneath her, aud the fur
robes opened like feathers to the touch Of
her poor, thin handsl How the bells sang
TO her, and the snowdrllt blinked at her,
and the icicles, and the slated roofs, and
sky, and the peoples faces smiled at her.
"Whaps the matter9" asked the young
lady for Deb drew the great VOLTS robe
over her face and head, ana sat so, for a
minute, still and hidden. The young lady
thought she was frightened.
"But only want 10 cry a little I" said
Deb's little smothered voice. "I must cry
little frstp
When she had cried a little, she held up
her head. and the shine Of her pretty white
hood grew faint beside the shine Of her eyes