St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1880-11-05
Little Elsie.

We were not rich, but we were very
happy-my Elsie and I. We had two
rooms on a second floor, which, if they
were not large, still answered our pur-
pose quite as we'll as whole house
would have done. l was getting a good
salary so if we had few of the luxuries
of life, we lacked none of the necessa-
ries. What more could man ask My
Elsie used to argue in this way, "You
say, George, we are not rich but there
we caauot agree. If you mean by riches
that Elusive commodity of exchange,
termed money-which to-day you have
and tomorrow you find it has taken to
itself wings and Eou see it no more
then we are not rich ; but what do we
need that we do not have9 We have
enough to eat, enough to wear; l have
you, what is there in the world to COM
pare with you? And" looking up arch
ly into my face, "you have me. What
would you take for me? George, we
are rich"
Yes, we were rich for we were very
happy and contented. There was but
one thing denied US, but one shadow
that would sometimes thrust itself in
and cause sigh. We had been mar
ried for five years, and yet we were
childless.
1 came from the office one evening,
and found my wife greatly excited.
':Oh, George" she said, ''there is the
sweetest, sweetest little child up stairs,
with such a cruel mother.n
My Elsie believed that if an adjec-
tive qualified word, to repeat it must
necessarily be doubly strong; and the
little woman, as was her custom when
greatly excited, buried her head in my
bosom and sobbed. / soothed her as
best / could, and after a while she told
me what had excited her so much.
"There are new dodgers in the room
just above us. An old woman-such a
harsh, cruel looking old woman-and a
| little child, with the sweetest face that
you ever saw"
$50 we are to have new neighbors "
"They came to-day, and she was so
harsh and cruel-the old woman, |
meant made my blood boil. She
made the little thing carry bundle after
bundle up stairs, and spoke SO sharp
and savage to her, it almost made me
hausted, sat down to rest, she slapped
her and made her move on.
"She must be very hard hearted,n
said. 81 don't see how she could dc
so.n
Every evening my wife poured into
my ears the story of outrage.
"The mother is BRUTE" she would
say cruel, wicked and inhuman wo'
man."
I would, expostulating, say "My
dear, you are prejudiced you perhaps
misunderstood her and judge her harsh
ly."
"Judge her harshly, indeed l can
not find language strong enough to ex
press her wicked and unnatural con
duct"
But l was brought to her way o
thinking in regard to the third-foo
lodgers. l was just leaving the hous
for the Office one morning, when half
dozen steps off saw the little one com
ing with a small pitcher of milk. I
was the first time had seen her, and
was struck with her at once. She wa
not more than six years old, and ha'
the sweetest face l ever saw but s
sad it made ones heart ache to look q
, it.
Just as she reached the door smal
dog came galloping along the stree
and tripped her feet from under hel
She fell, and the pitcher was smashe
/ to atoms. helped her up and brushe
the milk from her dress. She smiled
sad smile, and thanked me 80 prettil
it won my heart. saw the tears gath
er in her eyes in spite of her efforts t
drive them back, so I said:
s'Never mind; you could not help it
it was not your fault"
'No sir; could not help it, but ths
will make no difference"
The door was pulled violently ope
s and the monster, as my wife delighte
r to call her, came out with a rush, an
selzlng the child by the arm, said:
Il will teach you to be so careless.
81 "lndeed, | could not help it, man