The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1880-03-18

and trying to make himself agreeable.
"If find q saint, one genuine saint,
such as you talk about, up those two
flights of stairs, I'll pull your bell be-
fore 60 to sleep and empty my wallet
into your lap. As sure as my name is
John Claverhouse, will"
"Give me your hand on that" ex-
claimed Aunt Prilly, rising from her
chair and stepping up to Mr.. John.
Mr.. ClaverhOuSe extended his hand,
but with knowing smile, as he said
"You needn't talk to me about your
worthy poor in Water street. Not q
saint will I find there"
"Well, good-by for to-day, Mr.. John.
I'll leave it with you to decide whether
there's saint in Water street or not"
Aunt Prilly was gone; and Mr.. John
Claverhouse was left alone, to mediate
on the uncertainty of riches and to de-
plore the fact that they take wings aud
fly away. His riches had not yet
flown away, but their wings seemed
spread, just ready for fight, and Mr..
John Claverhouse was q very anxious
man.
But evening found him hurrying along
in the direction of Water street, and as
he turned into the street the dim lights
shOne out here and there into the gut
tiers, and all the air seemed foul, not
only with bad odors, but with oaths and
curses.
There's nothing that looks as if
there were saint anywhere around
here" thought Mr.. Claverhouse; "but
I'll keep nv word, and take q run up
two flights of stairs. There's no know
ing, though, what I'll get into. Bad
place, this! bad place! What! what!
Music in here, as sure as I'm alive.''
As he said this John Claverhouse
was standing by the first door, at the
top of the second flight of stairs, with
his hand bent ready to knock. But he
did not knock. He stopped and held
his breath to listen to the music inside.
"There is no name so sweet on earth,
No name so sweet as Jesus"
"a saint up here, Tn afraid! A
saint at the top of this shaky, wretched
staircasew said John Claverhouse to
himself. Again there came to his ears:
No name so sweet as Jesus"
~ must go in! must 60 in!'' he
said. nervously.
He tapped; and, hearing faint, soft
answer, "Come," he walked in.
A face. bearing the marks of severe
suffering, and yet serene, looked smil-
ingly up at him from a poor old bed
stead--as poor and old as the rest Of
the scanty furniture.
"How do you do, ma amp" he asked,
rather abruptly. for he was not used to
visiting the poor.
"More comfortable than usual, sir,
Thank you. kind stranger, for coming
| in to see me. am alone nearly all the
time. Poverty, you know, attracts few
friends. Please take a chair near the
fire. A very poor fire it is for so raw
and chilly an evening, but it is a fire.
For the first time in his life John
Claverhouse felt embarrassed in the
presence of POVERTY.
"Why, she's lady; and I'm afraid
she's sai',tr' he said to himself, as he
drew a chair to her bedside and sat
down.
"Do tell me, ma'am, how you came
here?" he said.
"Well, sir, suppose must say that
poverty brought me here" replied the
woman; "but as am Kings child,
dislike very much to talk about pow
erty;n r,,
and yet living in Water street, up two
flights of stairs and with such miserable
people around you?''
Eyes, sir" answered the invalid, with
a smile. II am a Kings child. The
King of Heaven is my Father, and, you
know, He giveth His angels charge
concerning u.s. and, with angels ever
around me, l am always in pie asant
company. know am what the world
calls very poor; but, really. 1 cannot
make myself feel that am very poor,
for every day my Father, the King, says
to me All things are yours and tell
him every day that he sees just how it
is with me. And oh! sir, l get such
sweet answers. He says that He will
never leave nor forsake me, and He
tells ME to consider the lilies how they
grow He takes all the care of me,
sir, and don't borrow any trouble
Even in this world He is going to do
more abundantly than can ask or
think and up yonder there mansion
waiting for rue. I often look out of nv
window and up into the sky, on beau
tiful night like this, and say to myself:
It's up there!' It's up therer"
"How can you knit stockings, ma am.
with those poor fingers Of yours, SO
bent with the rheumatism?' asked Mr..
Claverhouse. as he noticed little stock
ing on needles lying by her pillow.
"Oh! am knitting pair of stock
ings for sick child on the next floor
a crying baby, whose little feet are al
ways bare. I saved the money from
two dollars that were given me and
bought a little yarn. 1 ought to do
something for the poor, you know,
when so much is done for me-"
John Claverhouse moved restlessly in
his chair and left suddenly, after prom
Using to call again.
Not many minutes later Aunt Prilly's
bell was pulled violently.
"It's John Claverhouse," she said to
herself; and just then he came in, with
his wallet in his hand.
"Take it! take itr' he said, as he
opened the wallet and dropped fifty
dollars into Aunt Prilly's lap.
II found a saint" he added, "and if
she lives week longer at the head of
that rickety staircase my name isn't
John Claverhouse."
One day, before the week was gone,
the g Kings child" as she lay on her
bed, considering the lilies, heard foot
steps on the ricAety staircase-not TIE
footsteps of angels, come to take her to
her :" mansion up yonder," but the foot
steps of Aunt Prilly and a strong man,
sent by Mr.. Claverhouse, to take her
to q new. bright home he had prepared
for her.
And as they laid her on the bed in
her fresh little house, her eyes were at