The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1881-10-13
leather-covered memorandum-book and

pencil. DA 'nu
8" am looking for charitable neonle
Mrs. Dean" said the sSquir6's : wife.
with laugh. "s'
:" Then you've come to the wrono
place. said Mrs. Dean, frigidly.
Poor Patrick O'Hara was killed
Yesterday, in the machinery of the
roiiing-mill," !" said Mrs. Graham. ignor-
ing her neighbours response. "He has
left wife and eight children, totally
destitute. . 8 Ss9F "
And whose fault is thatp'' said Mrs
Dean. '.e' - .
s"Will you not contribute something
toward relieving their destitute condi-
tion?" urged Mrs. Graham, opening
the book and holding the pencil ready
Certainly not" said Mrs. Dean.
I've no money to spare'' FgAsy
But was told
20, yes-about the money that was
drawn out of the savings-bankr' said
Mrs. Dean. !" But I intend to keen that
money for myself, Mrs. Graham.s'
=. He that giveth to the poor lendeth
to the Lord" softly spoke Mrs. Gra-
ham.
. Yes, yes-I know!n said Mrs. Dean.
But nobody interprets the Bible lit
orally, Nowadays
Mrs. Graham took her departure, ac-
knowledging within herself that her
errand was failure, and Mrs. Dean,
left to herself at last, indulged in a nap,
with the knitting-work in her lap-a
nap wherein she dreamed that the fifty
dollar bill had taken to itself legs and
was running away from crowd Of pur-
suers. herself among the number.
When she walked up, reused by the
noise of coal being poured upon the.
stove, q candle was burning and Mr..
Dean was laughing at her.
Why, Betsey," said he, So thought
you never were going to wake again!
Here you sat, with the fire dead out,
and I've had to kindle it up again"
g Bless me!'' said Mrs. Dean, "I
must have been asleep quite while.
But'-as she started up she saw that
the old wall-pocket opposite was empty
-'twhere is that old number of the
C2i,skerUille Clarionn'
s - It was lastweek's paper,'' said Mr.
Dean, calmly. :. We had both of us
read it, so just took it to fkindle the
fire."
g You burned it upp''
"Yes." said Mr.. Dean; 81 burned it
up. Why shouldn't I?',
For half an hour Mrs Dean sat silent
and never spoke word. And her first
utterance was: U9n
Its the Lords judgment upon
Mrs. Dean was aresolute woman, full
OF character. She went to her table,
drawer, took out sheet of paper and
wrotste DR.. Bridgman. inclosing dol
lar toward lame Dick Bodley's cart and
horse. She sent another dollar to Mrs.
Graham for the. poor little O'Haras,
and promised to donate barrel of rus
sets, a bushel of potatoes and some of
her husbands cast-off clothes to cut
over for the children. And she sent
for Helen Hurst to come and see her.
81 can't lend you ten dollars, my
DEAR" said she, '.because haven't got
it. But I'll tell you what I aoM do.
I'll let you make your home here as
long as you please. There's nice
spare room, and it's an eighth of mile
nearer than Mrs. Swipes' to the district
school,
80. how very, very good you arer'i
said Helen, her eyes swimming with
grateful tears.9
g Good!'' cried Mrs. Dean. "Pm
just beginning to see what selfish,
greedy creature I've been all my life..
But YOU Re welcome, my dear, and your
board shall not cost you q. cent ys
She opened her parlor. shook out the
curtains and built fire in the air-tight
wood-stove. H
r Dean likes the parlor.'' said she,
''because it has such nice south win
dows, and l don't see why we shouldn't t.
enjoy it."
She baked d fresh batch Of ginger
bread, and sent a loaf to old Mrs.
Nudge; she took out basket of hick-
orynuts for poor little Harry Jones, who
was trying to crack dried up pignuts on
the stone by the roadside; she renewed
her subscription to the church chari-
ties.
, "I can't be sery liberal" she said;
"but / am determined to do what I
can.'' :
s'That's right, my dear that's
rightr' said her husband. .sWe. shall
be prosperous, never fear. T M awftilly
sorry about burning up your fifty-dollar
bill; but, if it's going to open your
heart like this, it's the best thing that.
could have happened to us. s = -
Mrs. dean was. sweeping out THE
kitchen. She, looked around with a
smile as she moved the wide-leaved
table which always stood under the
wall-pocket, and took down the pocket
itself, rude structure of splints, lined
with red cambria and tied with cords
and tassels of red worsted, to dustit
out.
YES she said. 81 am afraid / yas
getting to. be-a little miseriy, and
Why, what's this?" j
Mr.. Dean stopped and picked up a
slip of crumpled dark-green paper,
which had fallen out from the WALL
pocket as his wife turned it upside 1
down and tapped her finger against it |
to remove all possible dust.