Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1882-11-22
MISSION OR NO MISSIONi

large spotted toad she had nearly stepped
upon.
"Why, no use. of COURSE" said Ben,
"only TO scare silly girls; and they are
needed for that, because girls will
screech and squall enough to startle the
man in the moon, if they only see their
own shadow; so they are of no use for
anything"
Yes; but, Ben, mother says every
thing has mission; and this toad is a
thing, so il must have one.n
30, bah! Mother is mighty smart
and good woman, but she says herself
she doesn't know everything; and it's
my opinion that on this particular
point, as Squire James would say, she
is mistaken. She is crazy on the SUBJ
! iect of missions. But this toad hasn't
any, | know And | believe a good
many people are just like it-of no use
under the sun; don't you, FAM"
Il do, if Fan doesn't And am one
of them; a great, awkward creature that
has never accomplished anything but to
fill up and mar space that some one
else would have adorned. | guess Ben
is right, and | belong to the class of
people like the toad--of no use under
the SUM- And bitter expression, sad
to see on SO young face, settled in tho
dark eyes and around the thin lips of
their eldest sister, Sue, as, sitting by u
window, hidden by the dark green
leaves of large lilac bush, she had been
listening to the children's prattle.
Poor Sue OF naturally sensitive
and rather elancholy disposition, she
had, unfortunately, in her early girlhood
! heard thOughtlcss visitor remark that
in LARGE family of children of remark
able beauty, she was the only ugly one.
And her mirror seemed to her to verify
the statement; for the great black eyes,
straight. raven-back hair, dark COM
plcXiOn and thin lips, were striking
contrast to the other fair faces, with their
| light, waving hair, that daily surrounded
the family table of the Browns. Her
disposition, too, was unique, and
unlike all by whom she was surrounded.
She had lived IN almost isolated life,
though in n large family of brothers and
sisters. The brother next in age to her.
self had died in infancy, and the twins,
Nellie and Dellic, four years younger
two gay, bright creatures, rs much alike
in nature rs i'm names and age-had no
need of any company or sharer in their
mutual objects of interest, while Fanny
and Ben were rs inseparable as SUBJ
stance and shadow. Wandering through
the grove in search of nuts or berries,
pouring over the same lesson or story
books telling TO each other all their hopes
and plans, or forming themselves into
sclf-appointcd committee for the
purpose, they criticised and discussed
| the merits and dement's of the Brown
family rs freely rs if they themselves
had no part nor lot in it. So, left to her.
self, she had found companionship in
books, whose dear old authors never al
ludcd to or reminded her of her "unfort-
innate ugliness,n as she termed it. And
while Nelly and Dellic were crimping
and frizzing their hair and arranging
their llounces and rufiles for party or
picnic, she, in careless attire, with hair
drawn back any way to keep it out of her
eyes, was reveling in the scenes of an
cicnt history; roaming with agnes of
Sorrento through orange groves; fol-
lowing David Copperield'' through
his weary childhood, or wandering with
"Evangelinc" in her hopeless search for
the loved and lost. But to-day strange
feeling of unrest had taken possession of
her-a nervous dissatisfaction with her.
self and all by which she was surround
ed. Turning with restless fingers the
leaves of her favorite poet, Longfellow,
the psalm of Life met her eye, with
its
Lives Of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
| EOOtDrutS tho sands Ol timpb
81 don't believe it There is no SUBJ
Unity to be made of my life, and will
never make any footprints on the sands
of time that any one seeing may take
heart again, And, with q rudeness
and snap which might have startled its
author from quiet nap in his chestnut
chair, she thrust the volume i'm the book
case and sauntered down stairs, where
she arrived just in time to see Nelly and
| Dellie, radiant i'm fresh muslin, with rib
bons to match, embarking for picnic,
of which she had not even heard. The
father and mother gone to the city on
business, taking the two little ones with
them, and she had the great, quiet house
to herself.
Il wonder if those butterflies will
make any footprints on the sands of
timeP" she said, rs she watched the
twins tripping gaily down the walk, and
caught the merry ripple of their laughter
as they disappeared from sight. "Well,
may be It's better to be butterfly out i'm
the sunlight than a dreary black cricket
up in the attic" and she seated herself
at the window just in time to hear Fan
and Ben's conversation. Though she
had herself answered Ben's question,
she leaned forward to hear Fanny's re-
joinder, which came clear and quick
mo, mother is right. Everybody has
n mission. You know mission means
work, and all can work some way"
"Well, Fan, rs you seem TO know so
much about il, let's play you are mis-
sionary-sort of woman preacher, you
know-and I'll be heathcner; and in
| the course of your remarks inform your
benighted audience what great mission
| or any other Brown has. Say you be-
gin at the head of the family, and take
us all in order down to the baby. There
is a lot of Browns, and maybe the con-
version or the conquering of the world
depends upon our family"
"Well, To begin" said Fannie, moth
ing daunted by the task assigned her,
though, like many another speaker, she
was altogether unprepared, "there is
father and mother--but, Ben, what does
mortgage mean? I heard father tell
mother this morning that he would have
to mortgage the place to raise money TO
pay off some debt, and they seemed in
so much trouble about it; and mother
said she couldn't help wishing the older
children were boys. so they could help
make living; and there seemed to be
nothing for girls TO do. I'll tell you
what Is, Ben, if were rs old and as
smart as Sue, I'd teach school. or some-
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