The morning star and Catholic messenger., 1877-11-18

side, and was treadiug tightly across the
| smooth green sed towards the tree; then,
without giving himself time to think, he
| sprang after his little sister with q loud
roar, in imitation of a wild beast, seized ber
| arms from behind, and held her tightly
plnioned for a moment. 1t was but for a
| moment, however, for the poor child uttered
but one piercing shrek, and fell heavily
to the ground. Long did that terrible cry
resound in Herbert's ears, and even yet it
comes in the stiffness of night like a far-of
echo of the past-never, never TO be for
| gotten.
The unfortunate Ada had previously
| worked herself up to such pitch of nervous
| excitement, that at her brother's cruel and
senseless joke, believing that her worst
fears were at length realized, and that ehe
was in the clutches of the dreaded ape, all
sense of feeling forsook her, and che lay as
one dead.
Herbert's turn for fright had now come.
He tried to raise the child, but found she
was quite unable to move, and seemed
sister, speak to me |" he exclaimed, in an
agony of terror and remorse. at was not
the ourp 1g- outapg; was only trying to
startle You. Do look mp! l am brother
Herbert, and l will not let anything hurt
you. Get up and come in with me, like
good girl -
But there was no answer, no attempt to
move. Poor little Ada had tainted.
at this moment Emma approached, say
ing "Come in, girls; it is late, and grow
ing very dark. You here, Herbert Ada,
you will catch cold lying on the ground,
| the dew is heavy"
"Oh, Emma, come here quickly!" said
Herbert 81 fear have frightened her too
| much she will not speak ner stir. !"
"Why did you not take my advice 2"
said Robert, whe ran TO the spot on hearing
his sisters wild shrek. Il told you not to
| nIau v,ractical ink and GO bAijaVa
| you have killed the poor child"
Bat it IVES not 50, for, unclosing her
| eyes, she stared vacautly at both her broth
| ers, as they raised and carried her to the
house.
During the remainder of the evening, she
| lay on her mothers lap, gazing around the
room with wandering, meaningless ex-
preston, as if unable to recognize the once
familiar objects there, All that night the
poor child got no rest, but uttered at
Intervals the most piercing shri sks, heart
rending sounds to N mothers ear, and not
less 80 to the repentaut Herbert, who sat
| by his sisters bed in a state of pitiabie
anxiety.
Poor little Ada's weak nerves were not
proof against the shock she had received.
1t was not that her bodily health suffered,
| but the terror of that fatal moment had
hopelessly shattered her intellect, and she
! sunk into state of harmless imbecility.
AS weeks, months, and years passed ON,
| and still the cloud was not withdrawn from
her mind, it is easier to conceive than
discribe Herbert's feelings. To him it is a
lifelong sorrow; for though he is now q
grown man with family of his own, his
sister Ada forms one of his household, al
ways tenderly and affectionately guarded
and watched over. And sometimes he tells
the melancholy story to his own children
invariably summing up with this piece Of
advice, "above all things, boys, avoid
practical jokes. 1t is no amusement to hur
or terrify others. You see what fesrfu
consequences may ensue; and whenever
you are tempted to play tricks upon any
one, remember the story of poor Aunt Ade
and the old lime tree"