The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1882-01-25
Ghildrem's Column
MATTE.
BY LUCY RANDOLPH ELEM1Ne.

white blossoms Mrs. James attic room.
Keep yer hands off EN-, Matte
Dickson" said Mrs. James, in sharp
voice.
Mrs. James was a decent laundress,
and although forced to live in this over
crowded tenement house, had but little
to do with her neighbors below stairs,
and very small friendship toward this
particular child, whose untidy grand
mother now and then sent her on an err
rand to Mrs. James room.
" amt a-touching yer old roses" re-
turned Matte, turning her dirty face in
dignantly toward the laundress but the
child S admiration for the flowers held
her before them in spite of her anger.
"And however did you get EN- to
grow up here and look so pretty? What
did you do to even make EN- bloom p"
Mrs. James looked up from her ironing
board and answered
" | believe you're born heather, Mat
tic Dickson Don't you know that God
makes flowers? put the roots in the
ground, but the Lord gave the life of the
thing"
Don't talk about God, said Matte
lightly. never wants to hear abort
him. Father talks dreadful about God
when he gets drunk and kicks me and
granny round, and when granny s mad
at me she says maybe the Lord knows
what he made me for, cause she don't.
Mrs. James was good woman in her
way, yet she was not inclined to be a mis-
slonary to the unkempt child before her:
this little untaught one whose only knowl.
edge of the Lord of all was associated
with oaths and unkind words but she
stopped ironing a moment, and asked:
Die. you ever go to Sunday school Z?
You'd find out some better things there
about God and the Lord Jesus.
Sunday-schooll said Matte. con-
temptuously. 81 went wonst, and there
was a gal a-sitting not fur from the
door, and | went and set along O. her.
Oh my but the eyes she made, and said
sorter low to another gal somethin about
patchwork" SEE l, you needn't
trouble yerself to think I II stay where |
amt wanted. l amt never been to "a
Sunday-school since, and l amt a-going
either
"The teacher wouldn't have talked so
to you, said Mrs James, who inwardly
agreed with the stranger girl in not wish
ing to sit beside dirty Matte.
never went in no more" continued
Matte. " But [ love to hear singing
and [ often sits under SOME church win
dow where the sexton won't see me- Oh,
it's fine sometimes !. I heard EN- sing
somethin' about Jesus, lover O my soul.
| couldn't hear it all, but thay come over
those words so soft-like. l dun no what
1t means, but it's beautiful" And Matte
bent her grimy cheek nearer the pure
roses, and with a loving look at their
beauty ran out of the room.
Poor little Matte whose earliest breath
had been drawn in the midst of want and
sin, and who was not well fitted to her
surroundings sly, shrewd child ready
to steal or lie as occasion warranted
quick to use as foul language as her
drunken father or untidy granny en-
ployed.
Matte went down the rickety stairs,
avoiding her own room lest granny
should have some errand for her to run,
and wandering out into the street with
no special purpose. She sauntered along
until she found herselffar from the dirty,
narrow street from which she came
A sound of music drew her towards
pretty house in fowery, green-swarded
yard. Matte leaned against the cool
iron palings, end listened to the sweet
strains waited to her ear. A lace-draped
window opened upont the low veranda,
and Matte could catch glimpse of the
lady playing within. The gate swung
open easily, and Matte crept nearer and
nearer, until she crouched on the floor of
the veranda close to the low, open win
dow. The lady paused for little, and
ran her fingers over the keys, then after
soft prelude, she began to sing:
Jesus, lover Of my soul"
" Oh, that's the one that's the one"
exclaimed Matte in delight.
The lady started, ceased her song, and
turned towards the window.
" What are you doing there, little girl p"
she said
warn't doing no harm, really, said
Matte. l amt touched no flowers, nor
nothin-and oh, won't you sing that
again, and I'll go right away"
" Do you like that hymn so much ?"
said the lady smiling now, and looking
with kindly eyes on the ragged child,
who asked so earnestly for the song. Well,
I'll sing it for you, and then we will have
a little talk about it.