The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1883-03-08
RUE's MISSIONARY EFFORT.

Diue jackets through the WIDE nail, up
the bare, polished stairs, and into the
clean, airy chapel. Then, at signal,
every apron and Jacket slipped into its
appointed place and the large room was
still. Little Rue's apron had been about
midway in the procession, and SO she
found seat near the middle of the
chapel, where, swinging the small feet,
that could not touch the floor, she
looked listlessly out through the window
opposite, over beautiful view of grove
and meadow, and then up at the white
ceiling, where great fly buzzed at his
pleasure, without having to walk in line.
On the platform a man in fine broad
cloth and gold spectacles was beginning
to talk; but Rue only listened dreamily.
my dear children, am delighted to
visit this grand institution-to see so
many of you in this beautiful Home, so
well cared for, sowell instructed and so
happy"
Rue wondered why all the men who
talked there said that. She wondered
If he really would like to eat and sleep
and walk in row and always wear a
blue check apron. Then she forgot all
about him, in watching the sunlight
play on the small head immediately in
front of her. What brilliant red head
it was! And then bright thought oc-
CURED to Rue. A few of those hairs,
twisted together, would make beauti-
full chain for the neck of her china doh.
her one treasures; and, of course, Mary
Jane Sullivan would never miss them,
if she only pulled out one here and
there.
Forward crept Rue's eager little fin
gers; but they were too nervous in their
haste to be sure that they held but
single coarse hair before they tw;tched,
and the result was sudden explosive
low! from Mary Jane, the. turning of
battery of eyes in that direction, and
an immediate investigation by the au-
thorities into the cause of the disturb
ance. Poor little Rue was marched off
in disgrace; but, as she reached the door,
she heard the speaker say:
Il am sorry this has happened; sorry
that any one should miss what am 90
ing to say; for hoped to interest all
these dear children in the work of send
ing the Gospel to the heather. y
TWAS kind of him 10 call them all
dear children, after that dread I'll event,
Rue reflected, as. with burning cheeks
and fearful eyes, she stood, with a num-
Der OF other little culprits, in one Of the
wide halls, for even punishment was in
rows at the Home. Shifting her weioht
from one restless foot to the other, vet
trying to stand sufficiently upright to
answer the requirements of the pen
ance, Rue did sincerely wish that she
had been good girl and remained
quietly in the chapel, partly because of
the humiliation that had befallen her,
but also because she wanted to hear what
he had to say on the particular subject
he had named.
''Why didn't he begin with that2
and then I'd have Iistenedp she
thought, rather resenttully. For lack
among Rue's few shadowy memories of
the past. of love, and mother, and q
home that was not the Homo. was q dim
recollection of some curious articles
which her baby hands had only been
allowed to touch carefully, because
they were mementos of an uncle who
had died far away ON a mission field.
$50 it would have been most Ike hear
ing about my relations; only | haven't
got any," unused Rue. ''Oh, dear! |
wish I'd staid good and hadn't pulled
Mary James hair. didn't mean to,
anyway
She tried to find out about it, after
ward, by inquiring Of one of the other
girls.
"Oh! he wanted the children to
try and save up something, SO they
could help send Bibles to the heather.
Guess, if he lived here long, he'd find
we hadn't anything to saye,h was the
hurried reply.
Bibles! That was where Rue was
rich. She actually had two that had
Teen brought from that faintly-remem-
bered home.
81 don't s'pose I'll read one of 'em
to pieces; not if / used it till I'm big
woman, she said to herself. 81 MIGHT
give the other one. ought to help.
count of icing relation, somehow.
and | want to he good I just do.n
Later in the day she ventured anoth-
er inquiry:
"How viii he get those Bibles to the
heathen?'
II don't know. Why. yes, he II send
J EN- through the post-ofIice, Of course.
What do you care so much about it
for?"
That was what Rue did not mean to
tell She chose her prettiest Bible, |
spent the play-hours of two DAYS in
writing an epistle on the hy-leaves, and
tied it up in piece of brown paper.
Her knowledge of the post-office and its
requirements was exceedingly limited;
but she supposed it would be necessary
to put something on the outside of the
packet, to tell for whom it was intend
ed. She wanted it to go where it was
needed the most. and, of course, the
post-office people would know where
that was, she reflected; so she carefully
printed, in very uneven letters: For
the greatest heathen,n and then laid
the precious package away, to await a
future opportunity. She would trust
her secret to ne one, lest some unfore-
seen interference might result, and she
cautiously sought information.
" How do you do when you put any
thing into the post-officea" she de-
manded OF Mary Jane Sullivan.
why yen Just pvt 'em iR Yea 90 |