Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1883-05-22

had toiled night and day, and within the
past twelve months she had obtained 9
situation in the Rifietown High School,
at salary of seven hundred dollars pei
annum. She liked dainty things; books
and pictures, soft, yielding carpets, and
pretty furniture. She had woman S
longing for delicate laces and fine linens
and crispy silks and soft cashmeres and
recently, in very small way, she had
commenced to revel in their possession.
She had even, during the coming vaca-
ton, contemplated visit to the White
Hills, and over maps and in the dulcet
pages of Starr King, in imagination had
foated over the bright waters Of the
Winnipiseogee and drunk in the beau
ties of the Pemisewasset, the Saco,
and the Androscoggin Valleys; and now
here, in the face of these long cherished
anticipations, was letter asking for
charity.
NJ. Jennie had tender heart. Her
struggles with poverty had left no cal.
louses on it. Her mind went reluctantly
back to those old, unpleasant days, and
then reverted to Uncle John. He had
been wealthy and now he had no home |;
he was old, his wife was dead, he was
her dead mothers brother. and he needed
some one to care for him. All well.
Her life, so far, had been one long re-
preston; why not let it continue so to
the end; And, after all, is there not
sometimes as much pleasure in the denial
as in the qualification OF wish
Long before she reached her home,
Jennie had come to decision. The little
brown cottage must accommodate one
more. With friend of her sewing days
she had rented little cottage on back
street, and thus satisfied the intense
longings of her heart for home. Her ar
rangements were soon completed, and
the next day the mail carried an answer
to Uncle John. Il, toe" she wrote,
have known what it is to have no
home, and the one have to offer to you
may sadly disappoint you; but | will
try my best to make it pleasant for you.
Your room is ready and, with my warm
est welcome, awaits your coming"
Aveek later an express wagon landed
an old man, with a battered trunk, on
the doorstep of the little brown cottage.
1t CHANGED to be on Saturday, when
Jennie had no school duties, and the cor
dial words with which she welcomed I'M
Gle John were interrupted by kiss on
the old mans cheek, which the latter did
not fail to repay. From under pair of
bushy eyebrows there peered out two
keen, sagacious gray eyes, which took in
every look and movement of the little
schoolma am.
"You dear little Samaritan ~ he cried.
"You, of all my relatives, alone con-
sented-"
A soft hand was placed ovor the old
mans mouth.
Hush Uncle John" she said. You
come here as my honored guest, and you
are TO make no Samaritan references TO
me-"
Then she introduced him to her COM
panion, showed him through the little
brown cottage, and, with many tug
and little cry, helped him to carry the
old, battered trunk up the winding stair
way. This task accomplished, she pro-
ceeded 10 store its contents in faultless
order in the bureau provided for the pur-
pose.
80 like your mother in her girlish
days." said Uncle John, interrupting her
in her work to indulge in one more good.
long look. "And what untold possess
sions and pleasures do you deny yourself
for the sake of giving an old man
home:"
"Ahl Uncle john" she answered,
with merry laugh, my life has had so
many denials that few more or less are
of little consequence. And, besides, |
have found, with the German Lessing,
that the seeking, the pleasure of the pur-
suit and anticipation is greater than the
realization.
"And so you are deep in the Germans
Do not let their Haeckels and Buchners
dim yom faith"
Then they sat down and took men
tai gauge of each other. From Ger
man philosophy they drifted to poetry,
from poetry to history, from history to
science.
"Uncle John has not found business
so absorbing that he has not taken time
to read. Perhaps his devotion to books
caused him to fail" thought Jennie.
1.-The little Samaritan has not allowed
poverty to interfere with the development