Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1879-11-05
wEDNEsD )
NO. 266.
Miseellanfous.
AN OCTOBER ROSE.
WHAT IT AND THE BABY DID FOR A
TRAMP.

A rose-bush stood away out in the grass,
apart from all the other flowers, and al
though autumn had come, and the nights
were so cold that few frost elves ven-
tured out prospecting, the sturdy mother
bush held up-for the kindly old sun TO
caress her youngest born-a beautiful
rosebud.
With every rose that blossoms, there is
born an elf, and while the rose lives, the
elf remains with it, Just as when . child il
born, soul is born also, and remains with
it until the body dies, when the soul goes
to heaven; so. when the rose dies the elf
goes to fairyland.
The elf sat in the opening rose, rocking
in the wind and listening to the sounds in
the wonderful world. It was not long be-
fore she could see the world also. Some
times it was mighty dome of the softest
blue, with white clouds sweeping across
it. Then it was shining blue river with
overhanging trees or borders Of brown
pebbles and glisiening sand. Occasion
ally there were glimpses of distant noun
tains and shadowy foothills. Everthing
was surprisingly beautiful in the great
world.
The elf wondered at it all for long
time but when the rose was fully opened,
that is, when the ELF was grown up
she suddenly wondered one day why she
was there at all.
Everything must be here for some-
thing" she murmured to herself.
YES" answered the mother bush, who
had watched the awakening of the rose.
1--WE are all here for something. The
very least of all things is made to do
good"
..What is good?" asked the rose.
1T is to comfort and to make happy"
Tell me how.' said the rose. Every
thing is already happy" she added, dis
consolately. II have seen nothing that
needed comfort"
There is still something you have not
seen. We are all made for the good of
human beings. Even in your short life
you will find something to do"
Ibid you ever do any goodP" asked the
rose
81 have been the cause Of it. My use is
to give to humans. roses my beautiful
children. Some do more good than others.
but all can do little. One of my rose
children lay in the hand of baby that had
died. and it soothed the poor mother when
she saw the soft pink leaves on the baby's
breast. An old lady gathered another be-
cause it was like the roses she used to see
long ago. A young girl was made happy
by another, because some one whom she
loved gave il to her. Perhaps you will
do even more good than they
The wind rocked the rose, and the elf
thought less Of her own happiness and
more of what she must do to make others
happier--for she did not yet understand
how comfort could be needed.
She had been half dreaming one day,
when she suddenly looked up into two
eyes, as blue as the sky. There was
halo Of yellow hair around face as pink
as the rose which tiny hand reached out
to grasp. The blue eyes came close down.
and soft nose was pushed among the
petals. Then the little hands broke the
stem, Notwithstanding the thorns, and the
mother bush waved brave good-by to
the rose, as the happy child toddled away
through the long grass.
In the dry sunburnt grass. by lonely
road q man sat down to rest. The sun
shone down mercilessly, and the dull, hot
wind whirled into the air little clouds of
dust, until he bowed his pinched, hungry
face on his knees to shield his eyes. He
had walked until he was exhausted,
|
repulsed when he begged for work and
for bread, until his soul was filled with
hatred and dispair.
II am only tramp" he muttered.
"No one wants tramp around" What
me work to keep me from it," At last
he arose and walked wearily on, mutter-
ing lone more trial, and if they turn me
oft-how still the river is" He stopped
for a few minutes to watch it, and then
walked slowly toward it.
"What use is there OF trying again?"
he said The river will be cool--and no.
body cares what becomes Of tramps."
He stopped short and looked around.
Somewhere a child was singing to itself,
and more distinctly came the words OF an
old hymn, lispingly piped by the baby
80 lite wande' wer,'"
Mother used to sing that" whispered
the man, and listening eagerly
''Dartness be over me
My rest tone"
The tears gathered in the listeners eyes.
and the voice went on, now close ut
hand -
"'Et in my dweams--hallo'
In her astonishment the little one finished
with "hallo'' and then stood gazing at
the intruder with wide open eyes.
'.What 90 Ky for ?'' she said, and then,
, running up to him, she held up the pink
rose. He took it and touched the delicate
leaves softly, whispering half unconscious
ly, Mother used to have such roses"
Presently he looked down into the child $
,, wondering eyes and asked gently, "What
J made you give it to me?
II sorry for co." she replied.
"Will you let me kiss you?" he asked.
adding, as if to himself, II will be good
|. if you will"
She nodded. and he stopped and kissed
the dainty forhead. Then he said. "DO
you think your mamma would give me .
piece of bread if | should ask her?'
"Why. yes" she said. in surprise. '.Is
at what 90 kied for?''
Partly" he returned. smiling. '.Shall
we go?"
She confidingly took his hand and guild
ed him homeward, telling as they went. Of