Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1882-12-23
So Mat sat down and read it.

~ NN'''NN' Wv oNAAAN tllAItfS lNi MN.
"Well, Mat, We can. I've been think
ing. Mother set by Cousin Jack dread
fully when they was little. She thought
the world of him; and I feel us though
sh would help him, if she hadn't but a
cent to do it with Besides, she added,
shyly. coloring like wild rose up to the
dark waves of brown hair above her
broad, white brow; we-I-wcll, il
seems as though we were so happy. Mat,
We had ought to do something for folks
that amt; don't You think so?''
Mat looked ut her with his heart in his
eyes. He did not say anything except
"Well the shibboleth of New England;
but his eyes spoke so plainly Hitty turned
away little, she was too shy to like even
sill M worship She went on hurricdly:
You see there's that front room We
meant to have it for sittin' room. Now,
why can't we fix up a bed in it and sit in
tn kitchen? | can have the cool1-stove
in the lean-to and put the air-tight into
the kitchen, and let the pipe go acrost
his room corncr-ways, and leave the door
open nights, SO 7 he'll be comfortable.
'Twon't be for long, poor old feller."
You're real good, Hitty, but / can t
quite feel to turn We out q the best part
of your home for a stranger, somehow :
ooh, Mat he amt really stranger ;
and if he was. hadn't we ought all the
more to help him? What if twas you,
Mat, away off out West, poor. and sick,
and dyin'? | guess you'd be glad to find
your folks comm to help, now, wouldn t
you?"
The tears in Hitty's beautiful eyes for
bade Mat to deny her proposition. He
was almost awed by this simple, self
denying, unconscious goodness but he
was man, and had his share of sense
''But how about gitiin' of him here,
Hitty? If he's SO all-iired poor, he can t
travel so fur. now, can he 2"
I've fixed all that, Mat If YOU don't
mind havin of him. I'll get him here
You know | calculated to buy some
things Hitty blushed again, with
droop of the long, dark lashes on her
rosy check, that made Mat interrupt her
i'll a very natural way.
"Oh. Mat Well, you'll like me just
rs well, won't you, Ill my old blue
merino, as if | had a new gownd?"
Like You - There was no more to
be said; or ii there was, Mat left ii I'M
said. He was afraid to tell this saint
how sanity she was, and SO fell back on
the silent conviction that he, himself
was an unworthy sinner-a wholesome
state of mind. no doubt, but not likely to
be too enduring.
But Miss Platt, the lady with whom
Hittv boarded, and to whom she con-
fided her plans, in hope of some help
about getting a secondhand bed and
bedding TO set up in the front room,
hal no adoling scruples To prevent the
full expression of her mind to the girl.
"Well, ii | ever did = she exclaimed,
every scant hair on her tail. narrow head
seeming to crisp with Indignation, and
her black eyes swapping. "Ef YOU amt
the most of gudgeon | ever see, Hitty
amt biggcrn nothin nova settin'-
room. an' kitchen, and lean-Io, and
only one up-chamber, under the ruff at
that FL YOU he'd grain o sense. ef We
could spare that front room anyhow,
you'd sleep there yourselves. It'll be
coldcr'n Greenland's icy mountains nd
Indy's coral strands put together, up
stairs. But, for the lands sakes to set
up pauper to begin with | b'lieve
you're a little luny, and Mat he thinks
the sun rises n sets i'll your face, or he
wouldn't never give in to no such non
sense And the old man $ poorern jobs
turkey, expect.
IF he wasn't. we shouldn't need to
help him, Miss Nancy" said Hitty,
gently.
"Well, fools will be fools to tn eend o
the chapter / s'pose l shall have to set
by and see We put upon by some helpless
old feller, till You can't call your soul
your own, and all for nothin.
Hitty thought tenderl Y of certain words
that had echoed III her heart over and
over, OF late. " Inasmuch rs We have
done il unto one of the least of these, We
have done it unto Ne 5" but her religion
was of the silent type, that uses ne
language, but is active rs the still forces
of Nature, as the benignant dew, the
quiet sunshine, the wooing breath and
voiceless growth of spring. Her silence
and the lovely gleam of her look, pro
voked Miss Nancy Platt's practical soul
and she went on:
l." You don't know nothin what chor,
It's, neither, to take care of an old man
! They're seventeen times worse n ole
women be. | know it, for I've wintere(
and summered 'em both. i wonder n
Matthew Hallett for lettin' ON Y,
do it; but l expect he'd get the
moon for We if you was sot on it
an he could 'Twon't last! he'll pete
ont Just like other folks, and then there'l
be this old feller to wait on besides. Well
if willful will to water, willful mus
| drench, Gran used to say, and so 'tis y
She bounced out of the room, ant
Hitty sat down to write her letter, which
she took to Dartford next day, and
drawing her money from the bank
bought draft with it, which she in
closed and mailed, and then went he
way back to West hartford, with serene
Joy in her heart, that Miss Nancy Plat
neither knew nor understood.
This was the last answer to his circu
lar that reached John Turner. He hat
conceived opinion of human nature a.
large had been strengthened in its bit
terness by the tenor of the three letter,
| he had received.
He opened this i'll a languid, uninter
ested fashion, but read it with eager ant
deepening interest as it went on. TIN
was Hitty's note:
DEAR COUSIN JoHN:-I don't remem
ber you, Of course. but Mother did, anC
almost up to her death talked to IN,
about you, and learned me to love yol