The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1878-03-13
The Pauper Child.

There is one bed-or, more strlctl.
speaking, a bundle Of rags-in th'
corner. The household consists OF al
old man as ragged as Rip on the noun
tains, woman whose face the wrinkles
have twisted and frlrrowed so deeply
that it requires an immense sweep o.
the imagination to think that it ever Wal
young. Four children, from i've te
fourteen years of age, pale and hungry
dart about the room like dock-rats. Ex
cept one, the little one, whose hair lay
back on her white forehead as If it had
been swept there by the winds, whose
hands were like shadows, and whose
eyes seemed to be fastened on the dingy
and desolate.looking ceiling. She lay
on pallet, and the mother sat upon
the floor beside her and administered
now and then taste Of water.
"She's the only white one IN the
fock," said the man, as he tugged at
his short and bristling beard. She's
the only one OF the gang that's fitted to
be an angel, she is," he continued, as
be stared upon the sick face before him.
"She won't never get out of it; there
amt no use tryin' it on her," he went
on in an abstacted way, "We had the
county doctor, but such as them ain't
given to hangin' round sick bed like
her'n. He left some truck and she took
it, but it never mended her ailin', and I
guess he'll not come back"
The little face turned over on its
mothers arm, and there WAS hardly
enough life. in it to be perceptible.
"Bymeby," the father said, few min
utes later, "some weemen come in here
and left pone Of bread and made her
somethin' that kind D. seemed to make
her peert-ike, as she was when she
crossed the 'Hio, and then they read q
biece outen the book, and one Of EN-
she was q smart-lookin' woman, land
wasn't afraid Of dirtyin' her clothin' MOI
nothin', though her goods wus 6ne-she
got down on the floor thur, and shut
her eyes kinder close, halfway, and
held her hands, one of 'em on. her
busum, and tother on the child's head,
and the brats quit runnin' round end il
wus awful still. And the woman turned
her face up sgin the ceilih'." BE
paused for moment, as if he had to
gather a little strength. And then
"Talk about prayin' She put up the
best one ever hear south of the 'Hio,
and reckon it was as solid with Him as
heard it as any that ever was got of:
It kinder made things more hopeful
around, and the child opened her eyes
wide, jest as if she knew the woman
was putin up for her. It got dowh
into me, though thar wasn't any stakes
put up for me at all. When she went
away I said to Emily-that's wife
that would try my hand on jest one
prayer, it seemed to help things so.
The old woman shook her head, cause I
never thought of such q thing before.
But got down and put up every cent ]
had-I mean everything I could think
of. And when I got to the last. WORD,
the amen, it stuck in my throat, but
Emily got away with it. She said it
right out like it vas in meetin'."
"I guess I made a misdeal some
where" he continued rather mourn.
fully. "The little one didn't look up
any, and she's been CROWN weaker
every day. Emily said I'd spilled the
whole business, and that I crowded the
poor woman's prayer out. But I never
meant it. Eff I'd known I was interfer-
n, I'd never put up agin her hand"
There was blast of wind that came
and ratified the window, and kind OF
low moan, and then the head Of the
sick child and it's face turned over II
the mothers lap. Its thin lips met the
wrinkled ones, and the struggle was
over.
The grim faced, hardy looking mar
bent over the pallet, but there was {
good deal of good sense left in him
still. He turned to the reporter, who
had gone to the scene of misery and
said "But am not the man to &c
back on good prayin', even if I didn''
win. reckon the hand that the woman
put up will win for somebody else't
little one, eff it didn't for ours. For il
was the solidest hand I ever see, moi
'ceptin' the south side of the 'Hio in ole
Kaintuck."
A pauper child was buried yesterday.
Chicago Times.