The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-02-06

and see how others live without 1T. Yes;
go fill your souls with husks, and then
come back, if you can not come till then,
to your Fathers house, and sit down and
make merry in honor of your own repent
ance."
Clara heard no further; this strange
outlook from her own standpoint so I
shamed and confronted her that she I
went home astonished at herself, yet in
state of despondence still, for she did not |
know what to do, where to find another
discouraged human being. She was a i
direct, simple-minded creature, in the |
best sense of simple" and SO the SER |
mon came home to her for herself, not |
for her neighbors. She looked about |
her at the tea table that evening with a
new insight; was it possible that she was
to find unhappiness right under her
eyes? 1t might be so, she thought, as
she looked at Miss Allen, an elderly wo-
man, who had a room on the fourth
story, just above her own, and went out
dressmaking. Clara had never spoken
| to her before, but tonight she happened
! to sit next to her, and observed that her
| face was sad as we'll as grave.
ssIt has been a disagreeable day, Miss
Allen" she said by way of making con-
versation.
.<It has been a dreadful day, " returned
| the poor woman with sigh.
Ibid you get out to church," asked
Clara.
ssOh, no! this weather gives me the
rheumatism so, I can scarcely come to
my meals.
Here was an opening. One word led
to another, and Clara found that the
poor woman was so disabled by pain
| that her work was DELAYED or suspended,
her daily bread precarious, and besides
being poor she was friendless and no
longer young. Here, indeed, she found
evil, but finding it, forgos her own mis-
cries in consoling another's. Ii was not
much to bring Miss Allen into her room,
where her one Sunday evening luxury,
small fire, filled an open CRATE, and
where an easy rocker rested the half
crippled limbs of the suffering woman.
She rested here for an hour or two, told
the young girl her sad story of loss, and
pitied Clara's loneliness, and then crept
up to her own bed, cheered and helped.
stItn seem SO good she said, "to
think you're right under me. shall
, not feel half so lonesome"
t tKnock on the floor, then, if you're
i'll in the night and want me-" Clara an
4 swered. ST shall be glad to help you If
D I can" and she went back to her room,
4 | full of plans to make Miss Allen more
s comfortable; she would carry her up one
i. of the flannel sheets she had brought
q from Falmouth, and paste one of her
!, | windows with strips of paper about the
t sash edges, it was SO near her bed. She
t went to rest in quite another temper
Y from that of the morning, though she
r did not know it. The next day had its
e own work, the dull routine of school,
S the recurrent lessons, the stupid children.
| e
:, where Sally Blair is to-day" she asked.
r '.Please'm, she's down with broke
i Leg" said boy who lived next door to
r the Blairs So, after school, Clara went
Il down into Elm street and hunted up the
|, house. 1t was an old brown tenement,
/. where four families lived, but inquiries
q enough led her to the back room on the
II second story, and opening the door to a
n gruff scome in,' she found Sally
IS stretched on cot in the corner, hel
G half -paralyzed father in chair by the
It fire, smoking clay pipe, her mother al
); the wash-tub by the window, two dirty
b babies tumbling on the floor, and the
e whole room filled with that indescribable
II odor of dirt, grease frying, soapsuds and
,, tobacco, that is so often the only atmos
d phere the poor know. Mrs. Blair wiped
e her hands ON her apron and set chair
n the man nodded and laid down his pipe
d the twins looked up in surprise, and
d Sally began to cry.
e Certainly Clara had found evil here
is Sally was SO glad to see her, however
e that she felt it repaid her coming, and
h the twins ceased their noisy play while
% she sat there talking tenderly and gently
n to the child, who had become burden
e instead of help to that poverty -stricker
(, family. When she at last left them
If promising to come again, and picked hel
IL way back through the filthy, foggy
1t streets to her boarding house, Just within
is the door she met the table girl coming
is out of the dining room with some tes
/, and toast ON waiter. It was for Miss
: Allen, and Clara volunteered to take il
It up. She found her friend quite helpless,
e and very tearfully glad to see kind
r. face. Clara made her more comfortable
+ in few minutes, and scarcely observed
e that her own tea was cold and her butter
soft because she came late to her supper
Her Bible that night seemed to tell
b another story to her heart; her little room
It full of the home tokens and touches
g she had brought with her, seemed nc
s longer sad; she was filled with the
: contrast between its appliances and com.
e forts, and the four bare walls, the wood
1 en- chairs, the uneasy bed above her, and
b the grimy, oppressive poverty of the
S Blairs' home. She did not even remem-
: ber to pour out her own sorrows in her
t prayers, she felt such an earnest desire
e that these others should be helped and
comforted.
o Now she had two new interests in her
: life, and the days seemed too short. She
e could make Sally warm sack out of one
: she had to spare, and little wooden dresses
q for the twins from a skirt that had out
!, lived its usefulness as far as she was con-
cerned; also, out of her scant earnings
: she could now and then take the child an
0 orange or few crackers. There was q
f daily visit to pay Miss Allen, a book from
3 the free library to read to her when the
j, room was not too cold to sit in, a flower
5 perhaps, that some kindly scholar had
: brought her to light up the invalid s
room, or a fresh piece OF toast which she
l persuaded the cook to let her make her
| self.
So the days went on towards Thanks
giving; other people beside Clara had
5 heard that sermon which so impressed
/ her. Mrs. Armstead, whose husband was
the pastor of the church, had taken it to
5 her own heart; her boy went to school
where Clara was teacher, and liked Miss
King with a boyish enthusiasm. His
-