The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1880-02-21
susie's Gift.

The days were growing dark for George
Graham. His studious habits had re-
suited in an affection Of the eyes that
threatened TO grow serious.
This was his last term of school, and if
he passed his examination creditably, he
was to have a place in Solomon Grants
store, with wages that would not only
take cars of himself, but greatly help his
mother.
His mother was widow, and Georges
love for her was sort of passion of devo-
ton.
He was very fond of Susie Hale-but
Susie was only nice girl to him-a dear,
sweet. good girl, such as any fellow
would like; but his mother was the lady
to whom was due his love, his care, his
uttermost duty.
The plans he made in life were all for
his mothers sake.
What if this growing dizziness about
him was to increase until ali was dark?
What if he must be no help to his moth
er, but only burden on her forever?
His scholarship had been so fine that
his tutor hesitated to reprove his now
| continual failures; and George said moth
ing of the increasing darkness around
him to his mother, for he felt that it
would break her heart; nothing to teach-
er or schoolmates, for it seemed to him
that his grief would be nothing to them.
But one afternoon the crisis came.
No one who was present that day-not
even the smallest child-will ever forget
the look of wild despair that swept over
George Graham's face, or the gesture of
| helpless anguish with which he stretchef
out his hands, as if to seek among them
all some friend, as he cried:
God help me, I have been goinos
blind, and nowI cannot see one figure in
my bookr'
| There was silence after this: and
there came no sound but the audible
beating of George Graham's tortured,
| despairing heart.
| Then the master sent away others, for
school hours were nearly over, and tried
his best to comfort his stricken pupil
| The words of the teacher entered his
ears, but they did not reach bis heart or
kindle his hope.
As soon as he could he went away. He
did not go straight home. How could
he face his mother and tell her what he
must tell her now?
! He sat down on bank little removed
from the roadside, bank which over
hung swift, deep, yet narrow stream.
An awful temptation came over him.
To be sure, to die would be to leave
his mother to fight her battle of life
alone; but also it would relieve her from
the heavy burden he must needs be to
her if he lived.
| The river rushing down there below
| invited him with his murmur.
He bent forward over the stream.
| Than ho 1roxxr hooly
over him to go home first and see his
mother just once more.
''See here! What am talking about2
Do I not know 1 shall never see her
again ?"
And girls voice, soft and tender, an
unexpected voice, answered him:
Eyes, you will see her again. Surely
you will see her again.
The boy turned his face toward the
sound
''How did you come here, Susie Hale2"
he asked.
Don't be angry, George" the gentle
voice entreated. 81 waited for you. I
could not go home until had told you
how sorry I was, and tried to comfort
you. You must take heart and try to be
cured. I have known people who could
not see at all to be helped, and why not
you? At least you must try"
An evil mood was upon George Gra-
ham, and he answered harshly:
"Where is the money to come from,
if you please? Tt has been all mother
could do just to live, and she struggled
on with the expectation of my being
able soon to help her. She has no
money for experiments. There is moth
ing for it but for me to rest dead
weight upon her han Is or-die."
you believe in God, George Graham,
and you will not defy him. If he means
you to bear this, you will bear it like a
man, and not try to get rid of the bur-
den. Just now, it seems to me, you
ought to go home Would you like your
mother to hear this from some one else?"
He rose slowly.
You are right. he said, '.and you are
good girl. Goodbye, Susie.
She did not try to go with him; she
followed him only with her eyes.
His mother met him at the gate.
When she took his hand in hers the
poor fellow felt that she knew all. She
was very quiet and self-controlled.
"Your tutor has been here" she said,
have you sat in the darkness, and shut
your mother out from any share in your
trouble?"
"Oh, / couldn't tell you, mother" i" he
sobbetl, II couldn't. l thought it would
break your heart"
Meanwhile, Susie Hale had gone home
full of an absorbing purpose.
Somehow money must and should be
raised to try what skillful occulist
could do for Gearge Graham
Susie was the orphan niece Of Solom on
Grant.
She knew that she had modest little
] fortune of her own, but it was all in her
uncle's hands, and without his consent
she could not dispose even of her small
income.
But would he not be persuaded to let
her have enough of her own money to
accomplish her desire?
She asked him, using her utmost pow.
er of persuasion to touch his heart, but
he refused with peremptory decision.
Susie had in the world one treasure, a
diamond ring, which had been her moth.
er's, with stone, white and clear as q
dewdrop.
,, This must, she knew, be worth hun.
dreds.
It was her own.
She had meant to keep it all her life
for her mothers sake, but surely this
great need of George Graham's justified
her in parting with it.
She had one friend in whose good faith
and judicious management she felt i'm.
plicit confidence, and to him she sent he1
, mothers ring, with the request that be
would sell it as speedily and on as good
/. terms as possible, and remit her the
price of it in bank notes, and keep TO,
her the secret that she had disposed of il
1t was week after George Graham
; had given up hope, when most unex
. pected hope came to him.
+; A neighbor, going by from the post
3 Office, handed in at the door letter ad
I dressed to him. Mrs. Graham opened it
] George" she cried, after q moment
in an eager, trembling voice, sehere ar,
one hundred dollars, and that is the let
. ter that comes with them:
! 'This money is from true friend o.
: George Graham's s and is to be applied K
]. taking him to an oculist, in the hope tha
j. his sight may be restored. The give,
) withholds his name, both because he de
serves no thanks, and because be wishe
: to make the return of the money impos
: sible."
s 1T is from Heaven itself, y the mothe
A l artad 7 n. - "a