The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-12-25

gered over the rude picture of the sad and kindly
| man, and touched with glory the lilies of the
| field.
On the couch of the sleepers she rested mo
| ment then covered her eyes with her wings as
| she passed the evil face of the woman. Her
! fairy feet were caught by the golden hair of the
sleeping child, and lightly she fell upon her bps
The spirits wings swept the child's warm cheeks,
| and the rich color spread over them; she kissed
| the closed lids softly; they futtered and opened
| atthe gentle summons 1t was the fairest slghtthe
Sun spirit had looked upon since the day, months
before, when a hillside she had stopped TO
kiss violet with a dew-drop shining in its cup.
| Out of the window she few, and joined her
sisters swarming in the bright October air.
! Then it was broad day.
! The child put out her hand and touched the
! hard features of her mother. She sat up and
| looked round the room, which was flooded with
| sunlight From bundle of straw in one corner
she missed the customary ragged heap, and,
| again touching the woman by her side, asked
| where is he"
The woman stirred uneasily. When the ques-
ton had been impatiently repeated several times,
| she harshly answered the child:
| LENA, you mist not worry me so. I've been
| up nearly all night waiting for him. Toward
morning heard a cry down in the cornfeld
! Perhaps some wicked farmer followedhim home,
| and killed him for stealing"
| Immediately the woman sank to sleep again.
Lena sat for few minutes looking out of the
| window, and down toward the cornfeld wonder
| ing whether it was cruel for the farmer to kill
| her father She knew it would be cruel to kill
her pet lamb Winnie, as her father had often
threatened to do; but the lamb loved her so, and
was kind to everyone. Her father was often
very cross, but yesterday he had promised to
| bring her guinea fowl Yes, she believed she
would take Winnie with her, and go down to the
field to look for her father She wondered
| whether the farmer had killed him for stealing
her guinea
SO the little girl put on her few ragged clothes
| and inf fba CHI Tha lam aff
licked her rosy cheek. 1t gamboled out of the
door, pulling her after. Together they raced to-
ward the orchard. the child's hair streaming in
the wind and her merry laughter ringing across
the vacant lots to bring sad thoughts to a child
less man trudging to his daily work in the busy
city. Lena forgot about the dead man, and gave
herself up to her morning frolic with the lamb
When both were tired the lamb nibbed at the
long, succulent grass around the trees,
By and by Lena thought of the guinea fowl
and ran off toward the old wagon standing in its
usual place near the house. Tying the lamb to
one Of the wheels she clambored in among the
cages. Her father had kept his promise this
time, for there was the guinea sticking its com
cal red and white head through the bars Lena
thought that she might kiss her father for being
so good if he did dot look too cross that morn
ing. She had never done so before, but her
face frightened when she thought that if the
man had killed her father. she might kiss him.
and he would not know it and be angry with
her.
thing to the little one. She remembered when
her father had killed her dog Jack, for biting
him. Then they had dug hole in the ground
and put poor Jack in it, and he never played
| with her again. And Lenas eyes filed with
tears for her old playfellow
But the tears of childhood are quickly dried
The living guinea was worth hundred dead
pets. Taking it fondly in ner arms, and leading
the lamb, she started down to the corn field to
find car for it. The guinea put up its long,
graceful neck and pecked at her red lips play
fully, as though they were cherries. And what
| cherry had n richer hue! How all dumb ami
mails made friends with Lena as if she were kin
| to them
They wandered together through the corn on
that bright morning, the heart of the little girl
filed with pleasure. Again and again she tried
TO pull an ear from its stock, but her arms were
very short, and she was almost discouraged
| when she spied one within reach Just as she
was about to sit down to feed the guinea she
| saw ghlooking pair of boots sticking out
| from behind the shock. So she went round on
| the other side, and there she found her father
! Yes, he must be dead The angry look was
| out of his face. He did not speak harshly to
| her; he was very, very still That was an ugly
red stain on his brow. and his eyes stared wildly,
but she would kiss him once for bringing a new
| pet to her. For brief moment the warm lips
of the child rested on the cold. dead face.
The sunshine flooded the field Lena sat
! down beside the dead and the lamb curled up at
her feet. One by one she took the grains of corn
| between her lips, and the guinea picked them
away. She made the animals her confidants
and pratted cE!idishly to them. They were so
| happy together-the lily of the field and Gods
innocent creatures, by the side of the murdered
man!
There police officer found them on his way
home, across the field after q nights duty in
the city. InnOcently and frankly Lena ans
wered his eager questions Mamma had told her
| when she opened her eyes that morning that a
| wicked farmer must have killed her father down
in the corn last night: that mamma went right
! to sleep again because she was tired sitting up
! all the night; her father was very cross and
quarreled with mamma; and ferce-Iookng
man often came to their house when her father
was absent.
But our story is not of the retribution of Grim
inals; in its own time and way the law satisfied
| what it calls justice.
Our story is rather of mercy, which shed its
dews the lily of the field, though it had sprung
! from such noXious soil And in due time the
lily was transplanted to beautiful garden
Lena was put in Home for the Friendless.
| Its orderly comforts were far better than any
thing her short life had known; butshe pinned for
! freedom How she longed for her pets-the
| lamb, the guinea and the doves, with her unfet
/ tered life III the open air There was no one to
| tell her joys and troubles to now and sometimes
she felt that her heart was breaking She had
nothing in common with the scores of little girls
in brown cotton dresses and white aprons.
! They laughed at her stories about her pets AS
| the weeks went by her blue eyes grew dreamy
and fearful.
One day teacher told her that perhaps if she
was very obedient kind old man called Santa
Claus might bring her pets back to her at
Christmas time. 1t was an idle story told to
bring homentary comfort to Lena's sad heart,
but the child fed upon it. She listened to
| the many stories which the children of the
home told about the strange, benevolent saint,
who came once year to make real the wishes
of the little ones. Gradually she built up the
whole nursery mythology of reindeer, and sled,
and OVERLOOKING pack A new realm of fancy
was opened to the untaught murderers child.
For days she wandered in it, and the repressed
affections of her narrow life bossomed in the
| fairy land. Home, tender care and mothers
! love she had never known as thnrs knnNv thnra