West Virginia freeman. (Parkersburg, W. Va.) 1881-1886, 1883-08-01


have called him man. He had
red hands and a sunburned face.
and coarse, clumsy clothes. You
would not have looked twice at
him, but the little woman looked
and looked, and saw he was crying.
She looked again, and then crept a
little nearer, holding her doll very
tight.
"Does you want some of Gods
flowers ?" she asked, holding the
sweet things toward him.
The boy took them eagerly
took them all but just as the lit
tie woman was going to cry he
gave them back to her, so she
broke off a piece of the cherry
bough and one little stemless hya-
cinth, and gave them to him. The
boy had but lately come to the
city. He was hungry, he was
friendless, he was utterly dis
couraged, he had taken the first
step downward. But when he
smelt the familiar scent of cherry
blossoms, and saw the pure, pitiful
eyes of the little woman looking at
him, it brought back the homely
brown house among the hills, and
the little sisters who believed in
him and trusted him.
"I'll try one day more" he said
resolutely, "and if I can't get work
I'll go home; won't stay here and
go to the bad"
Surely they were Goods flowers"
which the little woman had given
him.
She sat quietly under the tree,
talking sometimes to her doll, and
counting the hyacinth bells over
and over. She knew now she was
lost, but was not really frightened.
She felt sure some one would come
by-and-by and find her. The
market-house clock began to strike
twelve. With the first stroke a
babel of sounds broke in. Steam
whistles in every key, bells that
changed slowly, bells that rang
wildly, clocks striking from dozen
steeples, and through them all the
slow deep boom of the market
clock. The street was full of hur-
rying people, going home to din
ner. Gathering over the pavement
came an empty express wagon
the driver hesitated, then turned
up to the trimming water basin,
and let the big gray horse plunge
his nose in the cool water. A flock
of brown sparrows were taking
shower-baths in the overflow; and
as the driver waited, his eyes fol-
lowed them with amusement from
the water to the branches where
they dried their feathers. What
was that under the tree? A child
lying asleep on the grass?
Looks like my little woman"
said the driver, jumping over the
fence, and coming up to the tree
in three strides.
'Sure's you live it's herself" he
said, as he picked the little sleeper
up in his arms. He stopped again
for the doll, and thrust it head first
into his pocket; but the little
hand chung to the flowers even in
sleep. The big horse whisked
them away, but with the jolting
of the wagon the blue eyes opened.
"What we s'pose mother'll say ?"
asked the driver, pressing the soft
cheek against his rough coat.
where was ye goin', anyhow ?"
Just went a-walking," said the
little woman, "and [ couldn't go
back cause the house got lost"
When the terrified mother had
assured herself that her darling
was safe and sound, when the little
woman was eagerly crowding her
withered flowers into her tin cup,
the father hooked up from his din
ner to say:
Curious how I happened to
drive by the park to-day; haven't
been that way in week"
otis His hand that leadeth me-"
sang the little woman over her
flowers.
The father looked at the mother
and nodded.
might be-" he said thoughtful
Hefatinqton Miller.