The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1881-04-28
THE LOST LINOH-PIN.

t'1t's no use, SuSy, we can't find it.
I'll have to take the whipping"
There was detected thrill in the sad
child-voice, telling alike of the physical
dread and of utter hopelessness OF
spirit.
.'Wait n minute, Robbie" answered
cheerier tone. ''Wait until 1 look
under the hay-bed. A linch-pin's little,
you know, and it might roll. 1 can't
bear to give up yet" And as the girl
spoke she swung her lantern under the
huge vehicle, and stopping, began to
search carefully among the loose chaff
and wisps of hay scattered over the
floor.
The scene was the threshing- floor of
n large barn, with great mows frown-
ing darkly above on either hand, and
vast granaries stretching away in the
rear, and the speakers were little Or
phan boy who had lost inch-pin. and
the sympathetic kitchen girl of the
farm. AS the latter rose from her fruit
less search the bright glow of the lam
tern fell full upon her, revealing a face,
not pretty, certainly, if viewed from a
cultivated, artistic standpoint, but fresh
and girlish, and just now, glori6ed by
a halo of womanly pity.
said, rising. Cant you think where
you had it last?''
''No, Sue, L can't. I've tried and
tried. reckon old Beeson will nearly
kill me-he did the last time.'' Then
with a shudder, throwing his childish
arms around her waist, ''Oh, Sue, he's
awful
''Poor babyr' cried the girl. clasp
ing him closer. while her soft. CT V
eyes filled with tears. Il wish 1 could
save you. How did you ever come to
be left with him, anyhow?''
''Nhy, you see," was the reply,
''when mother died there was only me
and Chris, and Chris. amt like me.
He's strong and smart, and afraid OF
nobody. So he thought he would go
away and MAKE u fortune for us both.
His name is Chrisiopher-like Christie
pher Columbus, you know-and he
meant TO do some great thing. too. Not
in u ship, though, but in big city. He
had read of poor boys making money
there, and rs the homestead was gone
he was bound TO try it. And then old
Beeson offered 10 keep me while he was
away. But Chris. never meant for me
to be abused. 1 heard him say that 1
was TO 90 to school. and be well treat
ed. and that he would pay for my board
and expenses when he come 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. soothingly. ''We'll hope SO, any
way"
swell. maybe" he assented drearily.
'But, o Sue; if 1 were only of age, like
you, wouldn't L go to seek himr'
Then, as if with sudden thought.
'.Sue, what makes you stayP You were
of age six months ago"
81 know she said, and paused as il
the question was an unsettled one with
herself, then, with the light still upon
her brow, Partly for your sake, may
be, Robbie, and partly because | don't
know where TO 90. l don't mind work.
ing. 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 beggars,
and many n poor tramp she allows to
sleep in the barn when he amt around
The last clause was unfortunate, for
the boy, clinging yet closer, cast a
glance upward toward the
scarcely disturbed by their feeble glow
of light.
.'Oh, Suer' he cried wildly. .'What
if he should make me stay all night
in the barn? He has threatened to
many time. Oh, Sue, what can we
do?"
The poor excited boy sank down in
despair.
1--WE might pray" said Sue, timidly.
.'Pshaw! He prays."
There was whole volume of incipi-
ent skepticism in these three bitter
words.
Il KNOW" answered Faith, sorelv
puzzled, yet clinging to her anchor.
81 know, but it don't sound like the
prayers l used to hear at the 'sylum.
There they spoke to some one close at
hand, SO gentle, SO loving, and yet SO
mighty.
''Oh, Robbie, now 1 just remember
the words, SO strong 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"
'.It's no use, Sue," he answered sad
ly. 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 can't find it. It's as well to get
it over"
'.Poor lambr' said the tender-heartcd
girl, kissing the quivering lips that
were trying 80 hard to be brave. 'Tu
leave the light, and I'll beg hard for
you" And repressng sigh over the
of her task, she glided
into the starlight, leaving the poor lit
tie victim to await a cruelty which, con-
sidering the centuries of Christian pro-
gress that have elapsed since the
slaughter of the innocents, not only
out-Herods Herod, but is one of the
darkest blots upon our social scale.
just here must pause 10 offer plea
for the children, the most defenceless
objects in all Gods creation. We sigh
over the miseries of poor Smike, over
little David Copperiield's sorrowful
journey; alas! that magic hand which
so moved us has vanished forever, but l
can match these thrilling narratives
with true stories of child rendered
idotic by continued cruelty, and of a
little fugitive bound boy who, after
weary days of hunger and travel, sank
blistcred and fainting at his mothers
feet. | can tell of n wolhan-tlink of
it-a woman! who, for some childish
fault committed during the day, fol-
lowed an orphan boy to his bed with
horsewhip, and then, when there was
no protection save the one little thin
night garment, broke upon his inno-
cent slumber with singing blows. And,
0l BON the evidence of the laundry-grl,
when the same little garment came to