Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1881-05-04

him closer while her soll gray eyes
filled with tears, u wish ! could
save you, How did you come to be
left with him, anyhow
Why, you see was the reply
when mother died there was only me
and Chris, and Chris, amt like me.
He's strong, and smart, aud afraid OF
nobody, So he thought no would 50
away aud make u fortune for us both,
Ills name Is Christopher-like Chris.
topher Columbus you know-and he
meant to do some great thing too
Not 10 a ship though, but In the big
city. lIe had read Of poor boys max
Ing money there, and as the home
stead was gone he was bound TO try
it. And then old Beeson offered to
keep me while he was away, But
Chris. never meant for mo TO be
abused. ! heard him say that ! was
to 90 to school aud be well treated,
and that he would pay Tor my board
and expenses when he came back
But ! reckon he'll never come now.
And the poor child's tears fell fast at
the thought,
'Oh, maybe he will! answered the
girl, soolhinsly.. .'Wc'I! hope so, any
way
We'll, maybe he assonted drearily.
But o Sue, if were only Of age
like you, wouldn't so and seek him !,
Then, rs with a sudden thought, Sue,
what makes you stay. You were of
age Elk months ago.
Il know, she said, and paused as #
the question was ant unsettled one
with herself; then, with the light
still upon her brow, Partly for your
sake, Robbie, and partly because ]
don't know where to go. | dou't
mind working, and ! must do that in
any place. Besides it is better for
me; I'm in the house with Missis, and
Robbie, she isn't like HIM. Many a
piece OF bread and meat she gives to
the hungry beggers. and many poor
tramp she allows to sleep in the barn
when he amt round.
The last clause was unfortunate, for
the boy clinging yet closer, cast a
shuddering glance upwards toward the
great mows where the shadows were
scarcely disturbed by their feeble
glow of light.
oh, Sue!' he cried wildly. 'What
If he should make me stay all night in
the barn? He has threatened to, many
a time. Anyway he is going to horse
whip me. O Sue, Sue, what can we
do?'
The poor, excited child sank down
in despair.
we might pray said Sue, timldly.
'Pshaw ! He prays.'
There was whole volume OF
incipient skepticism in these three
bitter words.
Il know it," answered Faith, sorely
puzzled, yet clinging to her anchor.
I know. but it don't sound like the
prayers I used to hear at the 'sylum.
There they spoke to some one close
at hand, so loving, and yet so mighty.
Oh, Robbie, now I just remember
the words, so 'storug to deliver.
Who knows but he might save you.
There was the man in the den of lions,
and the three children in the fiery
furnace
Its no use, Sue,' he interrupted
sadly. There's no deliverer for me
but Chris, and he'll never come now.
Go on to the house and tell the old
man that I can't find it. It's as well
to get it over
Poor lamb 7 said the tender heart
ed gir1, kissing the quiveriug lips
which were trying so hard to be
brave. I'll leave the light, and III
beg hard for you And repressing a
sigh over the hopelessness ofher task,
she glided out into the starlight,
leaving the poor little victim to await
a cruelty, which, considering the
centuries of Christian progress that
have elapsed since the slaughter of
the innocents, not only oul-Herods
Herod, but is one Of the darkest blots
upon our social life.
Just here I must pause to offer a
plea for the children, the most de-
fenceIess objects in all Gods creation.
We sigh over the miseries of poor
Smike, over little David Copperfeld's
sorrowfal journey; alas! the magic
hand which so moved us is vanished
forever, but ] can match these thrill
ing narratives with true stories of a
child rendered almost idiotic by con-
tiuued cruelty, and of a little fugitive
A.