The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1879-02-23


stalks, and patato parings, land heaps of
sinking mussel shells.
Did the miserable, shock headed imps
who sprawled among the fern, hatless
and shoeless, never see the yellow sands
below their hill side, and the restless,
never changing scar Did they never
look up and learn anything from the
peaks overhead which, clothed with
dark shrubs and LEAKAGE, lowered above
till they set sharp CLEAN OF snow
against the blue OF the sky?
These are some OF the questions
used to ask myself when [ first went to
Wyke; but you see I had other things
to think about, and, like most reform
ers, after had removed the blot lit
tie further from my own door, u forgot
all about the needs, material and spirit
ual, Of the young Mahaffys.
In fact, [ felt. half amused at the con-
Germ and disgust Clint expressed the
first time his wanderings brought him
in contact with this interesting family.
"Ah, my boy, at first / felt just as you
do; but found it was waste OF time,
as you will.
However, whether Clint was more
perseyering, or whether he found out a
better way to go to work, I can't say :;
but to my amazement, on Sunday after
noon, when the Rev. Mr.. Hooper, q
right good parson, rode over as usual to
preach to US, and the station hands
were mastering in our veranda, up
came q little procession, with very clean
and shy faces, and new pinafores, which
for the life Of me | couldn't identify.
The truth only dawned on me when /
saw Clint, with that indescribable grace
of his rise from his rug In the corner
and take Lal, the eldest girl, by the
hand to show her a seat.
Through all the service Lal kept her
eyes fixed In humble alteration on
Ciint's face, rising or kneeling as he
did !; and, after that, every Sunday,
whatever the lapses in the week might
be, she never failed to appear, scrubbed
and tidy at the service hour.
How on earth have you done 1t,
Fairfax" | asked the same night while
we were having our Last smoke before
turning In. He laughed. My dear
fellow, don't ask me. | never felt more
astonished In my life. or mere humbled,
IL you can understand. did give Lal d
talking to about a week ago, and a few
|shillings to rig out the kids afresh, but
| had no notion, that what | had said
would have produced such stupendous
effect. And. to tell you the truth,
Ralph, / felt ashamed to think how
little one really tries to do, when | saw
that poor girl coming up so bravely just
for few words OF mine! IL you won't
laugh, old fellow, am going to have
Lal and her brothers up twice q week
till they know how to read
laugh ! honor you for 1t, only
won't you find it awfully grind?"
Why, yes, I'm afraid | shall" an
swered Fairfax, knocking the ashes out
OF his pipe and staring at the fire; and
ryrk lxxENly tab, ttyx,
Lal without feeling uncomfortable. /
suppose it's what persons call con-
science; and my conscience won't let
me rest till I've taught these young
savages, at any rate, what little | know
myself"
So Clint's evening school began-be-
gan at the kitchen table after supper
was over-the pupils being Alice Ma
haffy, popularity known as "Lal, and
her brothers Bill and Ted; and the
schoolmaster being that ineffable swell,
Fairfax Clint.
Ted and Bill having grown up like
young goats on the open hill side, were
sharp enough to all outdoor signs and
sounds, but hopelessly dense when it
came to the alphabet. But Lal proved
wonder to herself and source of
pride to her teacher. Never was a
girl SO determined to learn what at first
seemed perfectly incomprehensible and
bewildering. Many q time have gone
to the kitchen to look on, and have seen
Lal, with knit brows and flushed face,
bending over her books, and muttering
fiercely between her teeth I'll see it
sometime, Muster Clint; let me try
again but I'm such fool tonight"
One night, long after the little class
had been dismissed. found Lal crouch
ing against the outer door in wild fit
Of weeping.
"Halloo, Lal, what's up?' I asked,
pulling her into the moonlight; "has
that precious mother been hammering
you again? But no answer could [ ex
tract except not very polite request to
leave her alone, and, wrenehing herself
out OF my grasp, she ran and hid herself
among the manuka.
This little incident would not have
remained probably in my mind, but for
he chance remark OF our parson one
Sunday shortly afterward. had been
riding part way home with him after
service, and as we went up the hill by
the Mahaffys' hut, we came on Lal, ly-
ing asleep full length under a wild
cherry tree, with her hands behind her
head for pillow, and an open spelling
book beside her. She seemed to have
cried herself to sleep, for the long
lashes resting on her cheek were wet
and matted into little points, and she
sobbed as we passed by.
"That poor child! I am afraid her
mother ill-treats her." said Parson
Hooper; ''and what pretty girl she is
growingr"
Pretty I was too struck with this
new view Of L4l to dispute it, and my
companion passed on to other subjects,
but as soon as / parted from him | rode
back quickly to the spot where we
passed the sleeping girl. But she was
gone, and ] had to ride home without
deciding the question whether parson 8
eyes or mine had been mistaken. At
the veranda door, however. | saw Lal,
with her milk can, waiting till Tom
chose to find time to fill it for her, lean
ing cross.legged against the door-post,
and looking modify out at sea.
| walked up and took critical sur
vey. A long-iirnbed girl, with very