St. Landry democrat., 1881-08-20
CATHIE'S STORY.

Cathie Browns Aunt Cathie, for
whom she was named, used often to
tell her that once. at least, in every
body's life, something happened Just
like story
Cathie like to believe this, but one
day she said, quite cheerly: ''Why,
.Auntie, don't know; everything has
been commonplace so long that it seems
good to me, like the Old faces and
places"
''Ah, my DEAR" said Aunt Cathe,
"that contented heart of yours is a
blessing; but something will happen to
you one of these days"
Cathie lived on lonely country road.
Her father was farmer, whom hard
fortune had followed for many year.
Three sons, older than Cathie. were
buried in the country burying- ground
hey nd the hill. Farmer Brown and
his wife were getting on in years; and,
although they had begun at last to
make head slowly against the current
OF adversely that had set so long against
them, the habits of hard labor and the
strictest economy chung to them still.
They owned their farm, and Cathie waa
their only child; but, beyond sending
her to school in summer and winter,
and allowing her the open space from
the front door to the road for flower
garden, they felt that they could afford
her no privileges.
Her dresses were of the cheapest ma
terial, her hair was always braided down
her back in the same simple fashion,
her shoes were coarse and thick, and
she had no ribbons, no jewelry, NO
trinkets of any kind. But Cathie did
not care much for such things. The
desire of her heart was to give. Oh.
the dreams she used to dream of the
blessednes5 of giving! mine OF mon
ey would not have satisfied her long
ings to give and give. She might not
have been in every instance a wise
giver, if her dreams had come true;
but she used to lie awake O. nights,
and plan by the hour, how, and where,
and to whom she would give, if for
tune should fall to her. And nobody
should ever know where the good gifts
would come from. That would be half
the joy Of it: to have her bounty de-
scend, shower-like, upon the poor and
needy, as if it came direct from heav.
emily places.
Her father and mother gave to the
minister, they visited the sick in the
neighborhood, and fed the tramps; but
Cathie had never had a cent of money
to give away-never in her whole life
nothing but flowers and berries, and
willing little services and these seemed
pitifully small in her eyes. Oh, to give
lxyfh ~1x ho
py she would be, if she could do that
Aunt Catharine was a great comfort
to her namesake. She was poor, like
all of Cathie's people, but she loved
flowers and birds. and all beautiful
things, as warmly as did little Cathie
herself; and she brought rare bulbs, and
roots, and seeds, and slips, aud much
homely cheer, to the child.
Cathie's flower garden was sweet the
summer through. Indeed, from March
to December, from crocuses to frost
flowers, something bright and beautiful
beamed up at Cathie from the ground
There was nothing like her flowers fol-
miles around. They were the pride
and wonder of the neighborhood. And
among them Cathie toiled, when she
was not at school or helping her moth
er; for, all this beauty was the result o.
much patient work and faithful care.
Now. if were only boy" she
said to Aunt Cathie in one of theil
talks, II should coax father to let me
raise piece Of wheat, or potatoes, anc
sell them; and then should nave some
money of my own n4A
"What do you want with money,
,Cathie?'' asked her mother, who hap
pened to hear her. Cathie blushed, but
did not answer Immediately.
;"Don't you have all you want to cal
and to wear, my daughter?" @.'5
"Yes, mother, don't want a thing
for myself
Nor /, neither. dear. Let us not be
getting ambitious and discontinued, be-
Cause we are poor.
Aunt Cathie thought Of some ambi
tious, discontented daughters that she
knew, and contrasted them with little
Cathie. 9t.l.,' F.. .t'.- g /. ~.
saj About this tine, Cathie was cherish
inc, one of her dreams too sweet evel
TO be realized, she felt, but which die
her good to keepsit in her heart. Il
~ oscar GRAY, "a lame boy who lived
near, her faithful friend, anda scholar
Of real promise, was, hungerlng fol
books and strug2 Cling manfully to earn
them. He was so proud that nobody
dared offer him aid, and SO poor, that.
at times, his utmost efforts seemed