The Weston Democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1875-current, 1880-03-27
IT'S THE TRUTH THAT HURTS.


industrious little body in all my
life"
"But there arc the children to
think Of" I snid; "and her lang
umgc is so queer. She spoke about
her father having skipped"
Did she?" laughed John. "She's
n cnmical little thing, but there is
nothing bad about her. Shc has
picked up these expressions, you
sec. BY the time the children are
old enough to ba harmed in any
way, you will have remcdied all
that, dare say"
This was the way that "our Pol
II" became ,Iomiciled with John
and nc. With her hair neatly
braided, and her dresses shortened,
and made otherwise more suitable
for her years. my little hanlmaidcn
presented quite another appear
ancc; but She still retained the
quaint speech and old-iashioned,
womanlv ways that contmstc,l 50
oddly with the chiId.flce and form.
Put to work as soon as she could
run alone, she had known no child
hood. She alluded to those of her
own age as ''the children" never
chasing herself among them;
speaking about what size used to do
"whcn she was little" lis though
that time was far away in the dim
past.
Take it all in all, Polly was s.quiie
Il character, and amused and inter
csted me II good deal. She was
quite n help to me, too, especially
in the care Of Jennie and Freddie,
who got to be very fond Of her.
She was as honest as the Sun.and |
never knew her to take the least
thing without asking for il.
0ne day she ran into the house,
saying:
"Thcrc's hungry man at the
gate. Can't give him some ofthe
cold bread and meat in the pant,
ry"
asscntcd, without thinking
much about ii. The next day she
came to me with the same request.
Going to the window, | looked
down to the gate where n stout,
heavily bearded man was standing.
attircd in n slouch hat and 4 cont
very much the worse for wear. lie
was looking eagerly up to the
house, but turned his head quickly
away whcA he saw me.
"No, Polly" said; this isa
strong, able.bodicd man; and its
wrong to encourage the .idlcnsss
that leads to crime by feeding
such.'
AT this Polly hung her head,
saying:
"IIc says he hasn't had nothing
to eat to-day, ma'am. Can't l give
him my supper? l shan't need
it?"
saw that Polly was fur from
understanding my motive, but
touched by this unscltish offer, and
not sorry for an excuse for yielding,
| said:
"You can give him tho cold meat
from dinner, Polly. But don't let
it happen again"
Polly would cat no supper that
night; and thinking that her ideas
were rather confused on the subject,
I took some pains to'explain to her
the moral phase Of the tramp ques-
ton, as understood it Sliu list
rned attentivcly, her big blue eyes
fixed on my face with a Solemn,un-
winking stare, making no direct re-
ply.
"Was you ever hungry, ma'am?"
UmccuSlomed aS | was to Polly's
pcculiariticS in this respect, | WIS
considerably startled by such IN
odd, unexpected query.
"Yes; and I expect to he again,
tomorrow morning, just about
breakfast time"
W don't mean that kind ofhung.
ry; but where there's no breakfast,
or dinner, or supper, or not much
Of any"
"No, child" I said, in quite an
other tone. Il have never known
anything about that kind Of hung
cr, and | hope you have not?'
II was always hungry. Nam
did the best she could, but it takes
Il good deal to 90 round where
there is nine children
"rhai proves the truth Of what |
was saying" | replied, anxious to
enforce my text. "If your father
hud worked, too, rs every man
ought that is able, you would have
had plenty to cat and to wear"
"lle's Il bad man; but-he's my
father"
The unconscious rebuke in these
words made lie turn my eyes on
the child-tarc, 50 unchiIdlike in
EXPRESSION; hut she was not look
ing at me, and evidently not think.
ing Of HE at all.
After this noticed n change in
Polly. She lost her appetite and
the color that was beginning II
come into her checks. But she
un,,nr on,nnlIiDnl ,lnrl1rinr thNt