Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1883-03-03

land can't lind bread for ourselves
bat | believe. for once, I'll follow
your example, mother, and trust in
providence
And she sat down and wrote to
Roberts widow, inclosing the only
twenty'dollar bill which was to have
bought the warm winter cloak for
the old lady, who was so contentedly
knitting in the glow of the fire."
Mrs. Walter Robbins was sitting
by the tire also, but not such fire,
as illumines the farm house kitchen
with softer shine than any cleo
trio light. Ii was a mere handful of
Goals, in a rusted CRATE, over which
she bent with shudder, as the wind
howled by shaking.the window'papes
and rafting the papershades. She
was mending the children's stock
ings, and as she worked, a little girl
crept out of the bed and stole across
| the room TO her SIDE.
Mamma, | can't get warm. as
there any fire ?'
There's a fire, DEAR" said Mrs
Robbins, "but we can't have much,
for there is only peck of coal left
in the box"
Mamma" went on the little one,
"why don't our fire shine bright and
red like the fire l see through other
| peoples windows sometimes ?"
I'VE can't afford it, DEAR" sigh
ed the widow. eff you let the coal
blaze and crackle it soon turns into
ashes and we must economize.'
Mamma" spoke up tiny voice
from the bed, 81 didn't eat enough
supper. Can't I have another half
slice of bread ?"
"There's no more, Bessie" said
Mrs. Robbins, with pang, sharper
than any serpent's tooth, at her
heart. $50 to sleep, dear, you will
soon forget your hunger, and in the
morning we are to start for the
country. you know"
Bessie's eyes sparkled.
1--WE can have all the milk we
want then, mamma, can't we ?n
"And pick up nuts where they
grow among the leaves, and eat APP
pless without paying two cents each
for them," chimed in Lillian. "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 -? viii she
play with US ?"
81 don't know" said Mrs. Rob-
bins with culver in her voice ono
she is not a 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 that had been
stretched out to lift the poor widow
out of the abyss Of troubles which
had almost overwhelmed her since
her husband died in the PARKWAY
Mexican lands whittier he had gone
to make the fortune, which alas
was never made.
She had become sadly use to sharp
words and cold chances, but kind
ness, sympathy, tender recognitions
of her claims to kinship, were new
and precious to her.
Just then there came heavy and
creaking footstep on the floor-a tap
at the door.
Little Lille jumped up and scam
pered back to bed. Bessie drew her
curly yellow head under the sheets.
ats mistake" said Mrs. Rob.
bins, spiritlessly. Nobody ever
comes here"
But she rose and opened the door.
There stood "a stout, middle-aged |
man, with cheerful blue eyes, rud-
dy complexion, and leg-of-
whiskers, slightly sprinkled with |
gray.
docs Mrs. Walter Robbins live |
here 20 he asked.
Miss Elsa had made waffies for |
supper, and had fried some crullers,
brown and light as butterhy.wings,
She had brought in the parlor lamp,
and hunted up two little china mugs |
handleless, and with the gilt IN