St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1882-02-24

Jldt pore Jlle pTONlSlOll, IIt luggage,
and-a good part of the time-the ell
ders, too.
Finally, footsOre and weary, they
reached the lovely Jordan" as the
sun was setting over the natural glo-
ries of Salt Lake City.
They soon stopped before a long,
low building, on the porch of which
sauntered or leaned many addressed
aud untidy men in slouched hats and
cowhide boots reaching above their
knees. They were welding OK
goads, and testing, laughing, and spit
ting. A few more decent men were
about the premises, and the whole
crowd was flanked by small army of
boys.
They surrounded the poor, bedrag-
gled party, shouting, good -naturedly ::
'Hurrah, there" ''Glad to see You :"
''You're tired, | reckon !" "Want II
place to work ?' and so on.
This was wild jargon to the emf
grants, for,they knew less than a score
of English words.
1t seemed like IL cattle market, where
each man was trying for the first
choice, nor did the attentions of the
crowd relax when the weary pilgrims
were seated at Il long table, laden with
corned beef and cabbage. When the
meal was over, the elders, who evi-
IDENTIFY felt that they owned the poor
strangers, pOrtioned most of them out
to the applicants. The rude, homely
field-workers were given to the men
with the ox-gOads the more attractive
were for the fastidiOus portion of "the
church"
Marie was sent off with a promise,
through an interpreter, of seeing Nico-
line every Sunday.
Our sweet-faced and delicate-mind-
ed Nicotine was escorted off by the
younger "Elder," whom she hated for
his familiarity on shipboard.
She was, however, relieved on find
ing herself among women-they would
surely protect her. Alas, she little
knew the inability of the kindest wo
man to help herself or any one else in
that great Out-of-d door prison, that sep
ulchre of living hearts,
Among the group III this mOckery
of home was fair, blue-eyed woman,
with sorrow written i'll every line of
her face. Nicotine kept close to her,
followed her from room to room, and
took her hand and kissed it, to the
amusement of the others. This woman
led her to the little room assigned her
in the well-appointed house. When
once alone with her, she folded her i'll
her arms, wiped away her tears and
kissed her.
Nicotine was wretched and hOmesick.
She cried all day and far into the
night; others, almost as wretched as
she, heard her sObs, and groans,
and questions - "'Who ?" "Where ~
''What ?n
Sunday came and went, as did many
other Sundays, and no visit from Marie.
Two stupid girls speaking another dia-
lect of her native tongue We're sent to
coax and to threaten her. She turned
her back on them and bade them go
away as evil ones and not her sisters
\ If the Elder who owned her expect
ed to get much service from her he was
sOrely mistaken. She spent all her
waking hours weeping, wringing her
hands and crying "moder, all, mOder ~
A new plan was proposed. The
woman she loved, whose own sweet
eyes were always full of unbidden
tears, was ordered to take her to ii ball
for good dance. She did so, and the
two looked like women risen from the
| tomb to rebuke the unhallOwed mirth.
One morning Nicotine was missed by
her guardian angel, and was nowhere
to be found. We cannot tell how earn
estly she was sought for she was OF
little value there. The avaricious, un-
holy wretch who had lured her from
her home, said, pointing to Il gloomy
building on the hill-which was not
erected till it was sorely needed as IL
prison house for the broken hearted,
called the mad -"Wh hen we do find her,
I'll put her up there Pm tired of this
| nonsense !"
But he never did put her up there y
In her madness the sin will lie at
other doors than hers-she had thrown
herself into the beautiful ''JOrdan'
that had glittered and smiled on heI
the day her bright dream was broken
And there she was found by boys who
went to look after the cattle grazing
on the rich bottom lands along its fer
tile shore.
Very little stir was made ''only d
crazy woman had drowned herself''-
that was all. Her sister and her friend
are still toiling on in degradation -un-
less Heaven has released them tOO-iI
some distant part of that Territory
"bound in atfiiction and iron"
Years have gone by. Enkan Neeta
now old and wrinkled by care and sor-
row, still sits and spins and spins
moistening her yarn with her tears
Looking towards the sea she cries
'My children my children Nico
line Marie! God send them back t,
me ~ She will ere long go to them, bu
they will never return to her.
Enkan Neeta is but one of the thou
sands of mothers thus robbed of chill
dren, who have either been sacrificed
in tue fires to MOlOch, or who are sleep
ing on the plains or in martyr gravel
in that territory so accursed by sin.
And yet America, i'll whose fair Dor
} ders these denominations exist, "cannO
help it!n She fills a mighty plac,
among the nations of the earth slit
has subdued a rebellion, the might o
which no other nation ever knew ant
yet she Cannot" with all her religion
her political power, and her standin.
army, break the arm of an imperiOu
and insOlent hierarchy which defies he
and laughs her to scOrn.
If our government "cannOt help it,
then God pity our weakness, and shiel'
! us from the just scOrn of the civilize'
world Mrs. j. d. Chaplin in Congre
) gatiOnalist.