The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1881-12-23

Charlie put ON his coat to do little
marketing. "Seven years, to morrow,
since left England, all the while hop
ing to get mother over here"
"Better late than never, said Char
lie.
"f father hadn't died." she thought,
"we might have expected him, too. But
he will know about it, and it will make
him happier"
In the morning our "charity visitor"
called upon chubby, motherly Mrs. Ste
phens to find out about "those beggars,"
and then Fanny said to herself: "Now,
if can hunt up my wax peddler, will.
But where shall GO? / will ring see
If don't-at the doors on our street,
and inquire il any wax merchant called.
may track him in that way"
Yes, he had been Mt various doors. and
people laughed about the "big white
comforter" and cologne In that way she
tracked him to a corner where dusky
little alley branched off, Children were
clustered at this corner. "Children
know everything, and I'll ask them,"
thought Fanny.
"The boy that wears comforter went
into that black door yesterday" said
sharp-eyed informant.
cts poverty stricken place."
thought Fanny, entering the house and
climbing rough, bare stairway.
Knocking at door on the second story,
Fanny was answered by sad faced
woman. But what was it in Fanny's
eyes that gathered there? A mist had
come sweeping across the wide, wide
sea-a mist through which Fanny saw q
ship coming to her and bringing two of
her dearest treasures-and did one of
these now stand before her?
Fanny"
"Why, why, mother-is it you?"
There was no word spoken now, only
silent, fearful, joyful, folding in one
another's arms.
"And Jamie ?" said Fanny.
"This way, dear. Only hush, for
he's sleeping. He's sick"
"Jamie sick Q" asked Fanny, her
heart sinking.
ooh, Fanny, you don't know what
we've been through ! We lost your
letters-and did not know where to 60
and the money that your husband sent,
it gave out-and the city was so big
aud oh, we have been in such want, but
jamie wanted to sell some flowers we
had. He had been sick with fever, and
wouldn't have let him go, but you sec
he stole out, and didn't know it. And
what should he wear out but your old
comforter, for when he came home he
said he put it on, thinking that he might
somewhere see his sister and she would
tell him by that-and he did find lady
who he wished was his sister-but he
only sold to her, and sold his favorite
rose-hush-he stirring"
"What is the matter, mother ?"
He came home chilled, and the old
trouble came back. and the fever set in"
Fanny went to the mean little bed in
the corner There was jamie, and it
was the little wax peddler also. He had
opened his eyes. "That is the one,
mother % he whispered.
Jamie, brought back your rose, I
couldn't keep it." Fanny had put the
waxen flowers into his hot hands. "I'm
Fanny, you know, your sister,"
You're so good, he whispered.
That noon he said, "Mamma won't
have any little boy to sell flowers"
In few moments he spoke again " I'm
tired, and amt it time to say, Now l
lay me?"
into the shadow of tho night, the
moon WAS swiftly turning. He began
g. Now-I-lay me-down to-sleep, l
pray-the Lord Won't it do if 1
don't say more? I'm tired and he
fell asleep for the last time.
In the dead little hand was the flower
that he loved. The hand itself was like
a waxen petal that never, never could
live. But Fanny had dream, and she
thought that jamie came to her and he
lifted rose white and sweet with the
eternal bloom of paradise.