Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-02-23

SpeeCuieSS 1utO CuH1T, anu JACK SCanQ-
ing in the doorway gave vent to whistle
as shrill as small locomotive.
Bessie stared from one to the other
"What's the matter2" she said.
"Welll" cried Aunt Jemima, as soon as
she had breath enough to speak. ''Il
you're not the forwardest child I eve1
saw! Asking the deacon, as pert as you
please, to give you ride, as if you didn',
know he was the richest man in town, anC
didn't see him every blessed Sunday pass
ing the plate"
'I'm astonished at you, Bessie" sale
her mother reproachfully. at will be
all over town, next, and what the neigh
bors will say of you I'm sure I cam
think"
''1f she were my child she should &C
to bed without any supper" continued
Aunt Jemima.
"Why do you act so?" said her mother
"Any one would imagine, to see you, YOU
hadn't had any bring ing up. Now, Bes
sic eat this piece Of bread and 60 stc
bed"
But Bessie couldn't eat. She was yery
unhappy, and all she could say was, II
had very pleasant ride, mamma"
As this didn't mend matters she picked
up her bonnet and went up stairs. After
she had been in bed few minutes, Jack
came in and sat down. The sun was Just
sinking, and the sky, which the children
could see through the open window, was
streaked red and gold.
'What made you DO it, Bess?" said
Jack, who was whistling softly, and look
ing first at the little face on the pillow
and then at the bright sky beyond.
do what, Jack7'
"Why, ask for a ride"
Bessie raised herself upon her elbow
and looked anxiously into her brothers
face. "Was it very awful" she asked.
"Aunt Jemima thinksit was, said Jack.
ats very queer" said Bessie; II don't
think any little girl would have been
afraid to ask father for a ride when he
was alive, and all grown people are
alike"
"Oh, no. said Jack, sagely; ssnot at
all. That would have been very differ
ent. Why, the deacon's worth thousands
of dollars. and father wasn't worth any,
thing at alI.''
"He was, too,' said Bessie, sharply
HE was worth ten deacons, fifty
fifty deacons, hundred deacons-so
there, Jack Bly," and Bessie turned he1
face to the wall and wouldn't say an.
other word.
The next morning. when she opened
her eyes, they fell upon her mothers face
bending over her.
"Get up, Bessie" said Mrs. Bly,, land
dress carefully. I have something fol-
you to do this morning"
Bessie had forgot all about the nigh,
before, and skip ping out of bed proceed.
ed to dress and go down stairs in the best
of spirits.
"Bessie," said her mother, as she en-.
tered the kitchen, "you cause me a great
deal of anxiety. have been thinking OF
your behavior of yesterday, and have
made up my mind that you must go up
to the deacon's and apologize
"M hats that, mother?' asked Bessie
frightened out Of her wits.
THAT means to ask his pardon for your
rudeness of yesterday. You must say
you regret your behavior very much and
will never do so again; and now you have
finished your breakfast, 60 right along,
and be sure you speak prettily."
Bessie put On her bonnet and started
toward the big house at the top of the
hill. She was good deal frightened
for "apologizing" seemed to her an aw.
full thing to do, and the deacon much
more formidable than the day before.
Nevertheless, her mother had told bel
to 60, and she did not stop until she
pulled the bell at the deacon's door. The
old housekeeper appeared in answer t.
her ring and demanded what she wanted
I want to see the Deacon" said Bes
sic timidly.
"He is at his breakfast" said the ole
lady, eying Bessie somewhat suspicious
| ly.
"Never mind" said Bessie; ''I'll &C
right in; it is very particular"
SO the old lady opened the dining
room door, and Bessie walked in.
She had never been in such big roor
before in her life, and there, at one enc
OF large table, with his breakfast before
| hun, sat the Deacon all alone.
Good morning." said Bessie, stand
ing timidly in the doorway, with he,
| bonnet in her hand, II have come to SCI
YOU"
The deacon looked up greatly surprised
| and then he laughed as he had laughed
| the day before, short, queer laugh.
"Does the Sunday-school tell you t.
do this too?'' he asked.
NO." said Bessie, thinking how sh,
should bring in cher apologize"
well, come in, child, come in," b,
said impatiently, "and sit down."
Bessie came in, and taking one of til,
| big chairs opposite the deacon watched
him fill plate with good things.
"Do you eat your dinner as well a
your breakfast all alone9" she asked q
last. haven't you any little girls no
boys-not oneG"
"Not one."
eff I had known that" she went On
looking at him wistfully, II would hay,
brought my breakfast in pail and cate,
it with you"
Suppose you try this" said the deacon
| handing her the plate he had filled.
Bessie wasn't hungry, but she though
it would be impolite to refuse, so sh
took it, and she and the deacon ate thei
breakfast together, she at the head of th,
table and he at the foot.
II am very sorry you are all alone,
began Bessie after moments silence
Wouldn't you like little girl like mea
"And what good do little girls ik
you do2" asked the deacon.
COIL none at all, said Bessie; "only i
you had one she could love you lots"
$50 she could" said the deacon, will
something of sigh, and after that he lie
Bessie do all the talking until the OLE
housekeeper came to the door and sale
| the horse Was whiting or the oafa Tho,