Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-01-20
She glanced sharply around her as il in

~ ~ " SOAAAO OAO. a1CW btiCN uStUeI
into the shadows in momentary fear OF
OF her keen vision penetrating
through the >iick bushes, TO nay
hiding place. 1 was certain she had
discovered my approach and had come
out for the express purpose OF
searching for me. There I lay trem bling
and neelltating on rash plans of escape
vainly wishing sister Alice was with me:
or1that was anywhere else, whenH heard
low, musical voice exclaim-" How are
you to-day, my sweets2''
All! here was a discovery, indeed !!
Company2 had never known single
soul who visited her. Who could it be?
At the period 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 comfort in the Masters
lowly gifts.
There she was, the wretched old nag.
kneeling in the long grass, caressing low
ingly the wild flowers that grew in great
luxuriance about the hut
heard her say-"Oh. nv sweets; nv
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 winds went tossing
by. And you're here for a 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
all alone, with no one to care whether you
lived or died. No, you can't know how
! It IS, when you're gone and the wind
bowls around the hut, or how keep pray
ing the good Lord to hasten the summer
| and send you back. Twas always so; no
one could ever bear old Margerv; her
poor old shoulder and the great hump on
her back were always against her.
"The old hag," they call me, even the
little children, my sweets. | wish they
wouldn't for love them so-why, Grim
son clover1 would be ready to die to-mor-
| row for very JOY if ole would come and
kiss me, and say show dye do Margerys''
But oh no! that can t be; they are afraid
of me; afraid of me!
Reader, was sinless little child then
had been older l should probably
have stifed under the cloak of pride and
selfishness the noblest impulse of nv life.
But thank God did not, for without a
moments hesitation I climbed the fence
and with tears of sympathy streaming
down my cheeks, caught the old crea-
lures hand in mine, and said, as I bent
and kissed her, ''How do you do, Mar
gery?"
Great God forgive us !! how shall we ever
answer for these poor, neglected souls tina,
the kiss of a child can SO overcome! She
gazed upon me for several moments in
mute establishment, then burst out sob
| bling and laughing alternately, saying
over and over to the senseless flowers
''She did it my sweets just think, can
you believed Some one has really kissed
Margery, and said, how dye do"
| :: x y Il
She has been dead this many year
| the old hut tumbled in ruins long age
the people of the village have ceased tc
speak of her. She was always wonder
to them, ''the queer old hag." The,
looked at her outwardly, no one evel
dreamed a beautiful soul lay hid IN sucf
a rough casket. But knew it and learn
ed to love her WE'LL
The day she died-oh, such beautiful
/ day-the daisies, buttercups ana clover.
how they swung their heads and peepeG
in at the old door! All day long she
lay with one hand locked fast IN smne
At sunset, when the yellow rays strcaket
the crimson banners hung 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 prison
er wears when, after dreary years o
darkness, the iron bars fall and the doc
OF his cell swings back, letting in thu
blessed sunlight once more.
| dressed the poor, worn, body for thu
grave, smoothed back the tangled hair
filled the tired hands full Of her flowers
In stony corner Of the graveyard
overgrown with briars and nettles, the,
made her grave. No one had been buried
in that part for years, it was SO desoate
and nothing would grow there, but it W.,
good enough for an old bag" A vol
en- mark was erected and many SCOT d
when I begged them to put Margc,y
| it.
| was called away soon after her lcatl
and did not return until the following sem
mcr. One morning entered the grave
yard for the express purpose of placing {
few flowers on the grave in the desoIale
corner. What was my surprise to behold
it, There above, and all around it :. hel
sweets ''were growing, tossing their Grim
son,white and yellow haads, saying plainly
We've followed You Margery!" MY
poor flowers were not needed, saw in q
minute, so placed them on rich old
granny Markham's grave which looked
singularly bare for all the costly monu-
ment which cast its shadow over it, think
ing to myself. God was Margery's only
! friend while she was on earth. He sent
the simple wild flowers to cheer her here
and now He has sent them to cover her
grave.
Year after year they come, more luxur-
liant each time. A sweet-brlar rose has
been added, blue and white viotets peep
up, the seeds of rare plants are waited
that way until the desolate old corner is
glowing Arcadia. The birds sing the
sweetest there, the sunbeams are the