The Sedalia weekly bazoo. [volume] (Sedalia, Mo.) 187?-1904, 1882-12-12
THELITTLE SAMARITAN.
BY A. KENT BROOKE.

the High school of Rifletown, with al
unopened letter. just handed her by
the passing carrier, in her hand
Miss Mary Jane had her little peculiar,
tiles, her faults and her foibles. hel
likes and her dislikes, as what wsman
has not, or man either, for that mat
ter! but Miss Mary James GROWING
dislike. which embittered her whole
soul, as much as it was possible to en-.
bitter 90 sweet and sunsy . soul, was
her hatred for her name. The name
of Ham could not be helped it was
the paternal pstronymlc it belonged
to the unfor innate ssa Of Noah but
Why should her mother aggravate the
matter by adding the Plebeiah Mary
Jane? There were hundreds of fem
mime appelstives that were quite as in
expensive and that would have added
some grace to the inevitable Ham.
Without petitioning tho general court,
Mary Jane had managed to tighten in
a small way her grievance. Her
friends called her Jennie. She signed
her name, in faultless chirography. as
became Massachusetts school-ma'am
M. Jennie Ham; and she had faith
that, in the near future, some fault
less young man. would endow her with
a name far mare endurable than the
one her father had left her and which
was all she had ever received from
him. 1t was, therefore, with a sort of
shudder that she read the superscrip-
ton which ran. in bold, business-like
letters, across the envelope: "Miss
Mary Jane Ham. Rifletown, Mass.
The postmark, for once not blotted
over, was Chicago the writer who I
M. Jennie had no acquaintance in
that famous western city. and only 10y
dint Of hard thinking did it occur to
her that her mothers eldest brother,
John Rivers, lived there; but he was
reputed to be of immense wealth, and
very likely he had never heard of her
existence. She tore open the envelope
and read:
"MY DEAR NIECE:
II expect the reception of this let
ter will cause you some surprise, and
the reading of it more. l am your
mothers eldest brother. When first
came to Chicago. l used to correspond
with your mother; but, as the years
slipped away, somehow our letters
grew more and more infrequent and f.
nally ceased entirely. Then your dear
mother died, and, in the heat of mon
ev-getting, ] lost all traces of my east
ern relatives, Latterly, 1 must con-
fess from selfish motives, l have been
looking them up, | am getting old.
NV wife is dead. | have no child. |
need q home. You mu know that
business men frequ nily suffer great
reverses. I have written to each of
my nepbews and nieces much as l
have written to you-s My letters have
mostly remained unanswered; or, if
answered, furnished but cold comfort
Will you take pity on an old man! l
await your answer with intense inter
est. Your uncle,
JOHN RIVERS"
NJ. Jennie slowly folded the letter,
mechanically replaced it in the envel-
cpe, and. with preoccupied air.
turned her steps toward her home. She
had been left an orphan at an early
age, without a relative to claim her,
and had won her way only by inde-
fatigable industry and grit. First, as
a sewing girl, going from house to
house, she had saved money enough
to fit herself for teaching; she had
toiled night and day, and within the
past twelve months she had obtained
a situation in the RiAetown High
School, at a salary of seven hunred
dollars per annum. She liked dainty
things books and pictures, soft, yield
ing carpets, and pretty furniture.
She had a woman's longings for deli
cate laces and fne linens and crispy
silks and soft cashmeres; and, recently
in a very small way, she had com.
menced to revel in their possession.
She bad even during the coming va
cation contemplated visit to the
White Hills, and over maps and in
the dulcet pages of Starr King in i'm
agination had foated over the bright
waters Of the Winnipiseogee and
drank in the beauties of the Pemige-
wasset, the Saco. and the Androscog-
gin Valleys; and here. in the face of
these long cherished anticipations. was
letter asking charity.
nj. Jennie had tender heart. Her
struggles with poverty had left no
callouses on it. Her mind went re
luctantly back to those old. unpleasant
DAYS and then reverted to Uncle John.
He had been wealthy and now he had
no home he was old, his wife was