Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1880-07-22
A Week in the Country.

Here Is little incident which has
special significance just at this time.
Last summer a lady in neighboring
city became interested in the charity
called the Children's Week, by which the
boys and girls who would never other
wise see the country are received as guests
or boarders at farm-houses for week or
fortnight. There was lame girl who
sat at a cornor OF a noisy street selling
papers and peanuts, wizened, stolid lit
tie creature, with dull eyes and leathery
skin. Her, the lady chose, prompted by
some passing freak, as the subject of her
charity, and sent her out to a farmer
among the hills in Berks County to board.
The farmer and his wife had secretly
poor opinion of"town tramps" or human
itarian experiments. They gave the
children their meals for which they were
paid, ordered them out of the berry patch,
counted the spoons when they were go
lug, that none should be stolen, and felt
that they had discharged their iull duty.
This girl, unlike the Others, never robbed
the cherry-trees nor trampled the berry
beds. She sat all day on the door-steps
looking out at hills and fields, or some
times followed the housewife to barn or
poultry yard, or gravely watched the
cows and chickens as if they had been
new miracles in the world that day "a
dumb, half-wittad creature" was the
good woman's verdict when she went
away.
In april, the farmers wife received
an urgent message asking her to come to
this girl, who was diving of some slow in
herited disease. She found her with
drunken woman in squalid room, at
the top OF a tenement-house, the one win
dow of which opened on dingy brick
walls and an asphalt roof, where lean
cat prowled among empty tomato cans.
The countrywoman was not used to visits
of sympathy. She was appalled, by the
dirt, the surrounding misery, the chance
of small lpox, the probable demand for
money. What do you want with me2"
she asked. '.Is it all there still2" the
child demanded, her eyes kinoied with
fever.
The hills, the solemn sunsets, the gr@n
iields, even the cattle and simple sights
ana sounds of the farm, haunted her like
a wonderful vision. In the sixteen years
for which the poor wretch had lived, that
one week had been her single glimpse OF
rest, she had known nothing, alb
solutely nothing, but the dirty street Oh
which stood hef stand and her bare gar
ret. New that death was at hand, she
cried out for this lost chance, which nev-
er should come to her, with mad, bitter
| longing for which, untaught animal that
she was, she had no words.
''Is it all there still? Tell me about itr'
she said. "The woods, the COWS. the
things saw you plant-any thing;
haven't much time. l want to hear once
before / CO." The woman talked as she
was hidden. Presently the facts of the
situation forced themselves into her slew
mind. "Why!" she said, starting up,
her eyes full of motherly kindness, ''why
shouldn't you come to it, chlld?" She
took her home that night and nursed her
tenderly, as if she had once been
her own baby. If we would say
that the sick child recovered in the pure
air and quiet of the hills, our story would
have been pleasanter to tell. But she
did not recover. She died there after a
month Of happiness. The farmhouse,
the woods putting out their tender leaves,
the fields just upturned by the plough,
all became like home to her. She had
keen interest in the planting. The
farmer, a rough Pennsylvania Dutchman.
took time to carry her from place to
place, made seats for her by the stream,
under the oak in the pasture. at last
she closed her eyes contentediy on 1t ali,
and her tired body was laid to rest in the
pure air and warm friendly earth of the
hills. 1t seems to US that wherever her
soul went, 1t was the better for that taste
OF life in the good, beautiful country
N. Y. Tribune.