Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-06-15
But For This.
"Millicent, Millicent, where is supper?"
"God only knows, child"

"Millicent, Millicent, where is supper?"
"God only knows, child"
perhaps I'd better pray for some
then" said little Jane Blair solemnly.
"Really I think you had,'' said Mill
cent, in soft tone.
There she sat, staring into the little fire
on which their last atom of wood was
burning, and seeing in the red ashes, into
which the light wood dropped so quick
ly, pictures Of the past. They had never
been rich people, but always comfortable.
Her father was a seafaring man-frst
mate of an ocean vessel-and her mother
tidy housewife, who made everything
bright and cosy. How he used to sit
telling his adventures to them when he
was at home.
He would not have been a sailor had
there not been sea serpents and mermaids
in them, but nofhiug was too wonderful
for those loving folk at home to credit;
and indeed he probably believed them
himself
The rooms had been pretty with shells
and coral branches. and brig ht parrots in
swinging cages and pictures of ships
upon the wall,
1t had been SO different from this
wretched place in which the two girls
now lived.
But that was not all; the love was
gone-the tender care that parents have
for their children.
The mother lay in her green grave in a
far-off cemetery; and who can point the
place of a shipwrecked sailors grave?
She remembered so we'll how he sailed
away that last time-how they looked
after him, her mother and herself-how
they waited for news, and waited in vain,
until at last there came to them sailor,
saved from the wreck of the "Flying
Scud," whotold how she went down in
mid-seas at the dead of night, ablaze from
one end to the other; and how Roger
Blair, the first mate, was among the
missing.
After that, poverty and sorrow; depart
ure from the dear old home; toll in a
strange city, sickness, friendlessness, and
browning woe Of all, the mothers death.
The girl had done her best for her lit
tie sister ever since, but she was not a
very skillful needlewoman, and could not
earn as much as some others; and now
work had given out altogether, and she,
pretty and sweet and good, and helpful
in daughterly way about the house, was
not quite sure that she could win bread
for two in any way-bread and shelter
and fire.
She was only seventeen, and frail lit
tie creature, with very little strength in
her small body, and now that matters
were so bad, who can wonder that she
almost despaired2
II suppose it isn't quite supper time
yet?" SAID little Jane again. She had
been on her knees behind the bed for a
long while. 81 wonder whether he knows
how hungry ann"
"What shall Ido," said Millicent to
herself, as she looked about the room. 81
have sold every thing-thc clock, the
books, even mothers work-box and the
parrot. There IS nothing left. The child
will starve before morning.. Oh. what
shall do.
She arose and went to the window and
looked down into the street. 1t was dirty
and narrow and swarmcd with filthy
children.
Opposite was little drinking shop,
about which blind man with fiddle
| drew a proftless audience.
Nothing sweet or fresh or pure met
her eye there, but between that scene
and herself sudden breeze blew beau
tiful screen, and there was waited to her
through the broken glass an exquisite
perfume.
On the sill without stood a rose in q
broken teapot.
She had picked up the slip among the
rubbish cast out by q neighboring gar
dener, and it had grown we'll in its hand
full Of earth.
To-day it had bloomed; perfect rose
exquisite in shape, perfume and color
dropped from the stem, and beside it {
half-biown bud gave promise Of another
flower as lovely.
Until this moment Millicent, in hel
anxiety, had forgotten her one treasure
"But for a gentle shower that had fal
len that morning, itmight have witheret
where it stood, for she had not ever
watered it.
Now bright thought fitted through
her mind.
i She had often seen children sellin.
flowers in the street, and ladies and gen
tlemen seemed glad to buy them.
i She would force herself to be cour
ageous.
i She would go out into the street witt
this rose and its bud, and some on
would give her enough to buy loaf Q
bread or at least roll for little Jane.
She would do it she would
God would give her strength.
She tied on her hood and wrapped he
shawl about her, and plucking the Aowe
and leaf or two, and that bright bud
that seemed perhaps the fairer of tn
two, babe Jane be good and wait for he,
and went down stairs and out from til
, dingy cross street into Broadway.
} There everyone save herself seemed ga
} and happy, and we'll dressed.
She seemed to be thing apart
:, black blot IN all his brightness.
She stood at corner and held out he
flower, but it seemed that no one heede
} her.
: At last she gathered courage to touc
J one of the ladies that passed, and say:
"Buy rose, lady-buy rose! Pleas
buy a rose.''
But the woman hurried by as the re:
had.
1t would not do to stand still.
Z She walked on slowly.
Whenever she caught a pleasant ey
she held out her bouquet, and repeate
I her PRAYER: .
.sBuy a rose! buy rose!'
) But the sum was setting and she Wa
Iopposite the City Hall Park, and still n
) one had bought her flower.
: She was growing desperate.
II Some nnn ohn,1l6 hnx. ~