The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1881-11-23
THE EMERALDS.

One wlntry afternoon in January,
away up in the black attic of a
wretched tenement house, pale,
sad-eyed woman sat sewing. The
garment upon which she was engag-
ed was very rich dress. The twi-
light closed in rapidly, with blind
ing fall of snow, with bitter, wall
ing blast that made the windows
rattle in the easements. Still the
pale-faced woman stitched on
Mother" piped a sweet voice
from the cot beneath the window,
will you get the fine dress done
Oh, mother. I'm so hungry If /
only had some tea and a bit of sau-
sage"
She worked on steadily for a
while, pausing onty to brush away
tear from her white cheek, then
arose and shook out the glimmering
robe.
'Tis done at last she said.
"Now mothers little girl can have
her supper !; only be patient a little
while longer, Flora. Ross, come, my
boy"
A manly little fellow came out
from the bedroom beyond.
"The fine dress is done, Ross, and
you must run home with it as seon
as you can. Miss Grace will be out
of patience, l know. Tell her /
couldn't finish it one moment SOON
er, and ask her to give you the mon
ey, we must have it tonight. And
YOU can stop at Mr.. Rays as you
come and buy some coal and we
must have some bread and tea and
a bit of butter, and you must get a
sausage, Ross, for poor little Flora. +"
"I'll get them all mother" he
said, "and be back in time. You
shall have a big sausage, little sis" I"
he added, turning to the cot.
The girl nodded her curly head
and her great wistful eyes sparkled
with delight.
"And you shall have half of it.
Ross" she piped, in her splendid
bird voice.
Hadn't you better put on your
thick jacket, my boy ?" continued
his mother. "The wind cuts like a
knife"
"Pshaw, little mother, / don't
mind the wind" and he went down
the creaking stairs and out into the
storm.
Miss Oracle Fontenay was in a
perfect furore of impatience and an
ger. Her five hundred friends were
assembled in the halls below, and
her handsome dress had not come
home. "What did that beggar wo-
man mean by disappointing me p
At that moment there was
ring at the bell and a voice in the
hall.
"Please tell Miss Graciemy moth
er could not finish it sooner she
wants the n .oney tonight"
The servant took the handsome
dress and message.
"I'll never give her another stitch
of work." cried the angry beauty.
Il ought to have had it three hours
ago. Here, Fanchon, dress me al
once--there's not a minute to loose
No can't pay tonight; I havent
time. He must come tomorrow.
"But we've no fire and nothing to
eat. and my little sister is sick" call.
ed the boy, pushing up the grand
stairway.
@Shut the door, Fanchon J" COM
manded Miss Oracle. And the doei
was shut in his face.
From the porch at the parlor win
dow, Pansie, watched the whole
scene, her violet eyes glistened with
childish amazement.
Poor little boy p she said as Ross
disappeared down the stairway, ISIS
ter Oracle ought to pay him. Il
must be dreadful to have no fire and
nothing to eat"
She stood for moment balanc
| ing herself on the tip Of one dainty
| little foot, her rosebud face grave
and reflective, then a sudder
thought flooded her eyes with sun
shine, and snatching something
from a table she darted down stairs
The servant had just closed th'
street door, but she fluttered pas
him like a humming bird and open
ed it. =.
On the sleeps sat Ross. brave lit
tie fellow that be was, his face II
his hands, sobbing as if his hear
would break. :,
whats the matter, little boy ?
questioned Pansie.
Ross looked up halfbelieving tha'
It was the face Of an angle looking
down upon him through the whiri
ing snow.
aOh, l cannot 60 home withcu
the money" he sobbet';; "poor moth
er worked hard, and Flora Is sicl
and hungry"
aHere," !" she said, "do take this lit
tie boy, and buy her lots Of MIC