The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1878-12-26

ing sister Alice was with me; or that |
was anywhere else, when heard low,
musical voice exclaim: How are you
to-day, my sweets9"
Aha! here was discovery, indeed !
Company9 had never known of a single
soul who visited her. Who could it be?
At the peril of immediate discovery
could not resist the temptation to peep
Poor lone SOUL looking out of your
wretched tenement. Yes, poor, lone
soul! whom all the world had forsaken.
You were seeking comforts in the Mas
ter's lowly gifts.
There she was, that wretched old hag,
kneeling in the long grass, caressing
lovingly the wild flowers that grew IN
great luXuriance about the hut
| heard her say "Oh, my sweets, my
pretty crimson clovers, butter cups and
daisies. You're all out to-day, full
blown. l saw you the first thing this
morning shaking your bonny heads in
the sunshine as the wind went tossing
by. And you're here for whole sum
mer, my precious ones; how came you
to come and blossom so sweet just to
please old Margery? but you amt
afraid of her, oh no! Margery wouldn't
hurt you, for the world! She only looks
at you, and you kinder help her from
being all alone. You don't know, my
pretties, what an awful thing it is
to be all alone, always ali alone,
with no one to care whether YOU
lived or died. No, you can't know
how it is. when you're gene and the
wind bowls around the hut. or how [
keep praying the good Lord to hasten
the summer and send YOU back. Twas
always so; no one could ever bear Mar.
gerry; her poor old shoulder and the
great hump on her back were ALWAYS
against her. The old bag they call
me, even the little children, my sweets.
l wish they wouldn't, for love them so
to die tomorrow for y,rv ioy. if one
Mould come and kiss me, and saw how
dive do, MargcrY. Blu, oh no; that
can't be. they are afraid of NC. afraid
Of me-
Reader. | was & sinless little child
then; if | had been older should proba-
DIV have stiled under the cloak Of pride
and selfishness the noblest impulse of
nv life But. thank God, I did NOT. for
witbouta moments hesitation I climbed
the fence and with tears of svmpatbv
streaming down NV cheeks | CAUGHT the
old creatures hand in mine and said rs
I bent and kissed her. How dive do.
Marpery ;"
Great God forgive us how shall we
ever answer for these moor neglected
Gomez She oazed unon me for several
moments in mute establishment. then
burst ont sobbinr and lauohinc alter
natelv. saving over and over to the
senseless flowers: "She did it,mv sweets
Just think, can you believe. Some one
has really kissed Margery and said, how
d ye dc"
She has been dead this many a year;
the old hut tumbled in ruins long ago;
the people OF the village have ceased to
speak of her. She was always wonder to
them, 1.-THE queer old bag They looked
at her outwardly; no one even dreamed
a beautiful soul lay hid in such rough
casket. But knew 1t and learned to
love her well.
The day she died-oh, such Il beautiful
day-the daisies, buttercups and clovers
how they swung their heads and peeped
in at the old door All day long she lay
with one hand locked fast in mine. At
sunset, when the yellow rays streaked
the crimson banners hang in the west,
the angels came they were not ashamed).
She heard them, the beautiful soul came
up and looked out of its prison windows
with such glad look, such as the pris-
oner wears when, after dreary years of