Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1881-03-16
Donald Richie.

Donald Richie.
Donald Richie was, as his name indicates,
a Scotchman, and one OF that type which
never assimilates with any other nationality.
He was thin faced, sharp-eyed, and cold as
the snow of Ben Lomond. He was one Of
those contentious Scotchmen who are ever
bristling up with small facts, his chief bust
ness being to pick notes out Of his neigh
boris eyes, and his Joy seemed to be TO exult
in the number he extracted and their magni-
tude He was one of those there-I- told-you-
so kind of men. He claimed fore-knowl-
edge of coming events and hind-knowledge
of all past and its directions These were
the mere commonplace of his everyday
life He was clear as a crystal in all his be-
liefs, and as cold as diamond. Nothing
would heat him but temper, of which he
had good supply. His hair stood up like
that on an irritated cats back. He would
do without his dinner, breakfast, supper or
sleep, to discuss the DEGREES of God.
The minister was the object of his espe-
cal care. 1t was his heaven below to
straighten out the minister. lie would lick
his thin lips, and squeeze and stroke his long,
sandy beard after the motions of the hand
in milking, and with half-malicious leer,
tell how he had tied the pastor hand and
foot on the several points of his last Sab
baths sermon.
Donald was close-fsted and hard-faced--
bad companions in any life. He had the
impression that little money and his most
invaluable services in keeping things in
order generally more than balanced the lib
crafty of his neighbors, who, less able fnan-
cially, always gave more than he. His wife
was as liberal as sunshine but, poor thing
her husband never trusted her with more
than a shilling. 1t is reported Of Donald
that one morning she was begging him for a
little for the Ladies' Foreign Missionary So
ciety when he broke out, "What did you do
with that quarter gave you last week."
Donald, of course was always in pet on
the money question, and between his con-
science and the sharp thrusts of his breth-
ren-who felt that here they could retaliate,
and always made the best of their advant-
ages-Donald lived in a chronic irritation.
Everybody said he was stingy, and when
his name was mentioned every member of
the congregation thought of his closeness.
The whole church had settled down in de-
spair of his ever getting over it. They said
it was in the bone, and at last no one ever
asked him for money, and this fretted him
more than ever. Donalds youngest child
was dear little girl, whose nature seemed
to be a cross between her mother and Don
AIDS best qualities. She was a charming
child Everybody in the church knew and
loved little Marjory. They even hailed her
father with favor when she was with him,
which they would not do but for her sake
He felt it, and as he grew older it did seem
to mellow him little She was the favorite
in the infant school. Her answers and
songs went to the hearts of both children
and teachers. She nearly lived at the min
ister's house, where she was great favorite,
not only on her own account, but because
there were there no living children. Her
devotion TO the minister and his wife would
lead her to rebuke her papa when he would
break loose in his usual severity, and one
day she cried as if her heart would break,
which deeply affected her father, and for a
time greatly mtigated his peevishness.
The fathers devotion to his daughter was
more than love--it was idolatry; and mar
velous was the power of the child over his
frosty nature. He would turn from his
ledger, even if he were balancing accounts,
to mend broken toy or tie her shoe. She
could make the world, so busy to her father,
stand still. He was being changed into the
image OF the child. People began to OBJ
serve it and speak of it, and as usual with
children whose lives are as CLEAN of sun
shine across the world, she was full OF old
fashioned giousness-very simple, yet so
constant and real that it seemed as though
it were the growth of years. Heaven ripens
some fruit very quickly, under the same con-
ditions upon which others barely thrive.
On the same tree, in the same sunshine, and
bathed by the same dews, some become
plump, tinted and ripe, ere others are half
grown. Mariory was of this kind-the first
bright and fragrant flower in all that gar
den. One day when she was only five years
old, her father was lying on the couch suf-
fering from nervous headache. On entering
the room, the windows being all darkened,
she had to feel for his presence. In doing
so her little hands struck her fathers face,
which, had it been done by any other, would
have put Donald in a storm. She crept up
to his bosom, and whispered in his ear, in
the most loving confidence, Papa, if it
won't hurt 90, | wants to read to co."
Though she did not even know her letters,
she opened her book and read, as if by
heart, in exquisite simplicity, these words,
the substance of which the minister's wife
had taught her
"And they brought young children to Je-
sus that he should touch them, and his dis
ciples rebuked those that brought them but
when Jesus saw it he was displeased at the
Suffer the little children TO come unto me
and forbid them not, for of such is the king.
dom of Cod Papa, does 90 like my read
ing2"
ayes, darling, bless your dear tongue
papa does like it,"
"Papa, will read you more some day
Goodbye, papa. hope-I hope that will
do you good | have prayed TO Jesus to
make you better, and know he will" And
she left him to his silence in tenderness and
tears.
Her love to Jesus was not only an affec-
ton for one of whom she had always heard
good, but it was the devotion of her whole
being to one who was TO her constant pres
ence and personal friend. She possessed
neither thought nor feeling she did moi
share with him. Her toys, her dresses, dol
babies, her opinion of people, all the little
incidents that made up each days life wer,
talked over with him as though he were
playmate. Sometimes she stood quietly by
the window, wrapt in some absorbing
thought, and then after moment would say
40 mamma 1 do love Jesus so much,
want to give him everything | have
Mamma, if should die, | want you to Civ,
him all my money and playthings, and
want you TO have him stay in my littl,
room"
Her money, which was ever at her owl
disposal, was always given to those she loved
Her bank was ever on the mantel-piece, t,
which she never failed to call the attention
of her family and friends, and she woul,
often say, "Jesus wants you to put some
thing i'm One day her father thought tn
sum was too large to be given all at once
(This was a shadow of his old weakness.
lie limited as much, but Marjory, looking u
in WONDER replied, " | must put it all il
papa, else Jesus will think me stingy, and h
won't come into our home and make his sur
shine about u.s."
Soon after this was all made plain. Tn
flower had bloomed its brightest colors. II
fragrance had been diffused, and now
droops. The weak stem wherein it gre
gives way. She heard the last sermon {
the year. She spoke thoughtfully to he
father, on the way home from church. of I'll
sermon, founded on the text, Is it well I
during the delivery OF which her faith,
wriggled about and showed his usual imp,
thence, for he could only tolerate the mini
ter because his darling child loved him an
was as fondly loved in return. lie gre
very impatient when the minister said %.
il well with you men of wealth Have yo
piyen during the year accordino IN III