The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1883-02-16


You dear old mother - said she.
81 believe l should have lost faith in
human nature and everything else
long ago, if it hadn't been for you.
Let Walters widow and her children
come. We're poor, and in debt, and
can't find bread for our own two selves;
but l believe, for once, I'll follow your
example, mother, and trust in Provi-
dence."
And she sat down and wrote to
Walter Robbins widow, inclosing that
last twenty-dollar bill, which was to
have bought the warm winter cloak
for the old lady, who was so conten-
tedly knitting in the coral glow of the
freight.
Mrs. Walter Robbins was sitting by
the fire also, but not such fire as
lllumines the farmhouse kitchen with
softer shine than any electric light.
1t was mere handful of Goals, in a
rusted CRATE, over which she bent with
shudder, as the wind howled by,
shaking the window-panes and rafting
the paper-shades. She was mcnding
the children's stockings, and as she
worked little girl crept out of the
bed and stole across the floor to her
side
Mamma, 1 can't get warm" said
she. Isn't there any fire."
"Theres fire, dear" said Mrs. Rob
bins; "but we can't have much, for
there's only peck of coal left in the
box"
Mamma" went on the child, "why
don't our fires shine red and bright like
the fires l see through other peoples
windows, sometimes?"
1--WE can't afford it, dear" sighed the
widow. "If you let the coal blaze and
crackle it soon turns into ashes, and we
must enonomize."
"Mamma," spoke up tiny voice
from the bed, II didn't eat quite enough
supper. Can't have another half slice
of bread?"
"There is no more Bessie" said Mrs.
Robbins, with apang, sharper than any
serpents tooth, at her heart. "Go to
sleep, dear; you'll soon forget that you
are hungry, and in the morning we are
to start for the country, you know"
Bessies eyes sparkled.
I'VE can have all the milk we want
then, mamma, can't WEI" said she.
And pick up nuts where they grow
among the leaves, and eat apples with
out paying two cents apiece for Them
chimed in Lille. "Oh, mamma, why
don't everyone live in the country?
Mamma, don't you love Cousin Elsa
and her mother? Is Cousin Elsa little
girl? Will she play with u.s."
81 don't know said Mrs. Robbins,
with culver in her voice. "No, she
is not child; she is women, like me.
But think she must be an angel in her
heart"
For Elsa Robbins had been the first
helping hand which had been stretched
out to lift the poor little widow out of
the abyss of troubles which had almost
overwhelmed her since her husband
died, in the far-away Mexican lands
whittier he had gone to make the
fortune which, alas! was never made.
She had become sadly used to sharp
words and cold glances, but kindness,
sympathy, tender recognitions of her
claims to kinship, were new and
precious to her.
Just then there came a heavy.
creaking footstep on the tloor-a tap at
the door.
Little Lille jumped up and scam
pered back to bed. Bessie drew her
curly yellow head under the sheets.
Its mistake, said Mrs. Robbins,
spiritlessly. Nobody ever comes
here"
But she rose and opened the door.
There stood stout, middle-aged man,
with cheerful blue eyes, ruddy COM
pleXion, and leg-of-mutton whiskers,
slightly sprinkled with gray.
Does Mrs. Walter Robbins live
here?" he asked.
X X
Miss Elsa had made wafiles for sup
per, and had fried some fresh crullers,
brown and light as butterfly wings.
She had brought in the parlor-lamp,
and hunted up two little china mugs,
handleless, and with the gilt inscrip-
ton faded off, which had been hers and
her sisters rs children Iona oUo