The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1879-04-18

and cry as II her heart would break Some OF
the bows who were more rude, would often
throw dirt and even stones at her; and, ut last,
she was afraid to come out and play with the
rest Of the scholars. never Joined them 10
their cruel sport but once. Oh, how often
have wished could blot from my memory that
once, when, through my own folly, planted q
thorn which will wound me all my life.
would always take Matte's part, when the rest
OF the scholars comments d to plague her, and,
at last, she began to look upon me as q friend.
Many. times, when she crept away to cry |
would follow her to offer word of sympathy,
and, perhaps, share Of my dinner.
Encouraged by my kindness, and with i'm
came to school one morning, and, running up
to me, her face glowing with happiness, and
putting her arms around my neck, whispered
in my ear: Il am going home with you, after
school, to stay all night; mother said could
l shall never forget how sweet and clean she
looked in her new pink calico Dress Her little
brown feet were washed so clean, her sun-bon-
net freshly done up, and her brown hair braid
cd and tied with ribbon. All the work of her
poor, over burdened mother, who with loving
hands, had dressed her darling that morning
for u visit. / was ever 30 glad when Matte
told me she was going home with me, and,
child-like, we were great chums all day. We
did not have much to say to the others,
but we had many wonderful secrets to COM
municate to each other; many little gifts to ex-
change, consisting Of broken bits OF china and
glassware, pieces of calico, faded and discarded
ribbons, old buttons and beads-all precious
treasures to us, however Insignificant in real
value. AT night with our arms around each
other we started for home with happy hearts.
Some Of the girls, noticing our devotion to each
other, became jealous, and, like many older
people, bent on making mischief. One of the
al would not let Mat Jones go home with me,
III were in YOUR place
s'If you do said another, Il will never play
with YOU again in my life Her father gets
drunk and beats his wife, and they don't have
enough to eat half of the time
Poor little Matte heard it all tears came into
her eyes, and her lip commenced to culver.
mo, Kate, said one Of the boys, don't let
her go-the drunkard's brat!' And, picking
up a clod of dirt, he threw it at her.
Matte in her terror chung to me Alas for
the weakness Of poor human nature! Instead
Of turning boldly and bravely around and de-
Tending my little friend in her hour of need, !
turned against her. My heart rebelled against
the cowardly act, but MY vain and foolish
pride conquered told Matte did not want
her to go home with me- Oh, how she cried
then! 1t seemed to me her poor heart would
break. We did not heed her sobs and tears,
but took hold of her and turned her around,
her face toward her home, and, putting our
hands against her back, pushed her along down
the road, she crying and sobbing all the time.
When we had pushed her as far as we wanted
to, we all turned and ran back as fast as we
could, leaving Matte to go alone in her sorrow
to her dark and unhappy home.
DO not think, my child, said my mother,
that was happy after committing 80 cruel
and cowardly an act Far from it. / felt 80
grieved over my wicked conduct that / could
not eat my supper, and hurried of to bed as
soon as it was dark. l lay awake into the long
hours of night thinking of it, and resolved in
my mind to tell Matte, in the morning, how
sorry l was, and beg her forgiveness. The
next morning / was the first one up, at break
of day, and, just as soon as 1t was time to go
TO school, hurried off. But no Matte came to
school that day, nor the next Then we heard
she was SICK and, a few days after, she died.
Dead! Oh, could it be possible that Matte
was deadg Would she never come to school
again? Could never wind my arms around
her neck, and, kissing her tears away, beg her
to forgive me? No, never! The poor little
so cruelty pierced and torn by thorns, had
made their last earthly journey. We we're all
at her funeral-all of Mattie's cruel tormentors
and, when we gathered around her coffin to
take last look Of the little pale face, so peace
full in its last sleep, great sob went up from
every heart, and, bowling our heads, we wept
bitterly. 1t is wears since Matte was laid away
in her little grave; but the remembrance of
that cruel act is as fresh in my mind as If 1t
had been done yesterday, and many bitter tears
have l shed over little Mattie's memory. The
wound in my heart will hurt and never heal
until l have passed over and beyond the river.
where, on the other side, little, white-robed
form will welcome me-"
When my mother had finished her story my
tears were falling thick and fast The lesson
sunk deep in my heart, and, from that day,
never felt inclined to ridicule the misfortunes
of others; and, if any little boy or girl who
reads this story should feel 80 inclined, think
of little Matte and her tormentors
MADAM GRANGER.