Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1883-07-06

on. chatting by he way. Her simple p
history was soon learned. The father,
losing all his property by disastrous
speculations. determined to begin
life in a new place and among new
people He sickened and died on
the road, and was buried in a desert
ed field. The girl did not say much
Of the Cousin Nan. on whose protec
ton she had been thus thrown, but
the old man soon CLEANED that she
was harsh taskmistress to poor lit
tie orphan Alma.
She doesn't like me" the girl said.
Il s'pose | do give her trouble, and
when we started she didn't expect to
have the charge of me. She's poor.
too. and it's hard on her"
She started off at a half run, but
the old man kept up with her, deter
mined to get glimpse Of this terri
BILE Cousin Nan, and perhaps save the
girl from reproof, or worse.
"On, they've left lne"' cried the
girl, wringing her hands. Which
way have they gone? Let me follow
them
But which way had they gomez
Three roads branched from the main
road, all leading for some distance in
the same direction, and all equally
Travelled. There were fresh wagon
tracks on two of them, and Father
John shook his head, not knowing
what to advise.
What did they mean by starting
without your he cried, angrily.
"Oh, they didn't know" bursting
into tears. After breakfast climbed
up into the back of the wagon and
fell asleep, and the church bells
wakened me. 1 knew Cousin Nan
wouldn't let me go if 1 asked, so l
slipped out of the wagon and thought
I'd 20 to church and be back before
they missed me. They think I'm
asleep there yet. They never do call
me until they're starting. They
won't miss me till tonight, when
they stop to camp and get dinner"
Then they'll be sure to come back"
said Father John, soothingly. just
stop crying, and come home With me
and get some dinner. l live all by
myself in little house by the church.
Come, Alma! You'll be safe with
your friends tomorrow
Never! neverw she cried, throw
ing herself on the ground in a pas
sion of grief. They'll never trrn
back for me. They'll be glad to lose
me. But they're all l have in the
world though they are SO cruel"
They walked together to his tiny
little house, and lucky was it for the
child that in her extremity she had
fallen into such kind hands. Many
years before Father John had lost
wife and children. Since then he
had lived alone, or as much alone as
an old man beloved by every man,
woman and child in that community
could be.
He did his best for Alma, but all
efforts to trace the wagons farther
than the next town proved unavail-
ing. About two months later letter
came from Cousin Nan to the post
master at Oak Hill, asking for in
formation of the lost child. If there,
she was to try and get a situation
with some one until her relatives,
could come, or send for her, which
could not be until next Spring 1t
was a cold, unfeeling letter-no mes
sage to Alma. She was alluded to as
if she had been parcel of little
value accidentally left behind, which
would be sent for at some convenient
season.
Never mind, little one," said Fa-
Their John, patting the girls head.
'Them that wrote that letter are not
going to trouble their heads about you
, You're happy as the day is long here
: You fill the place of my own dead
little Bessie, and this is going to be
your home until the old man dies, OF
you choose to leave him. Are you
not willing7"
She bent down and kissed bis
, , hands, for she could not speak.
Two years rolled by, which brings
! US to the night before Easter. II
Alma had been delicate as a child
she was now wasted to a transparent
: shadow-a beautiful shadow whose
great flashing eyes had grown
strangely solemn and peaceful.
II feel almost we'll tonight, father
: she was saying, land oh, I do hope to-
morrow will be abeautiful dayw
"You don't think of singing in the
choir tomorrow" asked the old mar
with a troubled look 800.
Indeed I do! How could they
, manage the solo in Eoyd's TIE Deum
without me! Besides, it's the second
anniversary of the day you found me-
poor friendless, wretched little waif,
and took me to your heart. Father,
your little girl must thank God in
her own way for these two happy,
happy years." She folded her hands
) on his arm and looked in his face.
It was a glorious Easter morning.
The sky was shadowless. and between
the sun and flowers and bird songs in
the oaks. the church was an exquisite
idyll. Once more the orange petals
foated in the chancel; once more the
TIE Deum swelled to the arched roof;
but Alma to- day was among the white
robed choristers. Paler than ever,
with all the yearning and passion
gone out of her luminous eyes, you
could only read in them a holy hope
and profound peace. The solo rose
in the air. Thrilling, plaintive, every
note perfect in its tender clearness,
never had she sung so well. People
held their breaths to listen
Make them to be numbered with thy saints
in. glory"
A sudden silence of the voice. The
organ ceased. There was a cry
from the choir as Alma fell heavily
forwards Not a sigh from the white
lips. The sweet singer had borne her
unfinished anthem of praise to the
foot of the White Throne.
Nj. B. WILLIAMS
At an evening prayer meeting i'll
a neighboring town, as the nine
o'clock bell ceased ringing, the
clergyman who presided arose and