The Ouachita telegraph. [volume] (Monroe, La.) 1865-1889, 1881-06-03
A Boys VICTORY.

A dozen boys stood on the green ny
tho school-house, careless and jolly,
just from a game of ball. A boy came
round the corner of the school house
with an old cloth cap on his head, and
wearing loosely-fitting garment OF
coarse cloth. In his hands were an
iron stove shovel and a hod of ashes.
ooh, here comes old Dust and Ashes"
shouted one of the group, springing
forward and giving the coat Il jerk.
"Hulio! what's the price of sack
cloth ?' The boys cheek flushed in an
instant. The shovel rang on the
gravel walk, and his fingers clutched
but as quickly his check paled again,
and clenching his teeth, with great
effort to keep back something, he
turned little and uttered the word
smother !" "Ho, no !''' ssHo, no ~
shouted tho other, .'The baby's sick
and wants to see his mother"
The boy in the coarse frock turned
away and rapidly disappeared behind
the old barn; then, breaking into a
run, he fled swiftly down the path to
the maple woods, his faithful "Hunter"
bounding and racing by his side.
Most graciously stood the naples, all
russell and crimson and yellow, bathed
in the yellow haze of the still October
| .
he sprang, his feet rustling the al
ready fallen leaves, and tlinging him.
self in q little hollow, he buried his
| face in his hands. Poor Hunter stood
by wondering why his young master,
any more than himself, could possibly
think of anything but birds and SPUR
rels at such a time. Then the boy,
seizing his only playmate in mis- arms,
cried HOh, nobody loves me, nobody
loves me in the world, but you, Hun
ter! q mother, mother, why did you
die?' And the sobs came fast and
thick, and tears flowed like rain.
Long did the motherless boy wall and
cry, till from very WEAKNESS he could
| weep no longer. Tears brought relief,
and the holy quiet of the grand old
woods filled him with solemn and
holy thoughts-th of his dead
mother.
Only one year ago She had died, and
he remembered his agony and loncli
ness, and the year of toll as the ward
of Il cruel uncle. He remembered
his eagerness to go to school, his try
ing to pay his way working about the
school-roo'n, and the unfeelins gibes
and jeers his humble station and course
clothing had earned him. Again the
angry, rebellious thoughts came up,
as his eyes fell on his coarse coat, and
the quivering s0bs returned but with
them came the words of that mother,
and how her poor fingers had toiIcd to
make that coat, the best she could give
him. Though, coarse it's texture,
every thread was hallowed by a
mothers love. lie took from his vest
pocket the well-worn Biblc-her
Bible--and read the precious promise
to the widow and orphan, again and
again. New and strange thoughts
came to him, and there, III the grand
old forest, with the Autumn sunset
shimmering the golden maple leaves,
was new purpose born in his soul
He had begun to conquer himself
Ienceforth there was no hesitation fol
him. Body and soul he devoted him.
self to God. Companions might jecr,
but Jesus reigncd in his heart.
The years rolled on, and the boy be-
came a man, but the purpose formed
| in the old maple grove burned in his
bosom yet and now his feet tread the
deck of an Indian steamer, bearing
him swiftly to the chosen scene of his
| toll, for these words arc in his heart
81 must DO about my Masters bust
ness"