The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-01-18
THE LITTLE SAMARITAN.

.a ST. Nicholas.
THE LITTLE SAMARITAN.
Miss Mary Jane Ham stood in front oil
the imposing brick building used as the
high school Of Rifletown, with an un.
opened letter, just handed her by the
passing carrier, in her hand. Miss Mary
Jane had her little peculiarities, her
faults and her foibles, her likes and he,
dislikes, al what woman has not, or ma
either, for that matter? but Miss Mary
James own browning dislike, which
embittered her whole soul, as much as
1t was impossible to embitter SO sweet
and sunny a soul, wa her hatred
for her name. The man of Ham
could not be helped; it was the paternal
patronymic; it belonged to the unfortu-
nate son of Noah; but why should her
mother aggrayate the matter by adding
the plebeian Mary Jane? There were
hundreds of feminine appellatives that
were quite as Inexpensive and that
would have added some grace to the in
evitable Ham. Without petition
ing the general court, Mary Jane
had managed to tighten in a small way
her grievance. Her friends called her
Jennie. She signed her name in fault
less ch%irography, as became a Massa-
chusetts school ma'am, NJ. Jennie Ham
and she had faith that, in the near flu
ture some faultless young nan woul
endow her with a name far more en-
durable than the one her father had left
her and which wal all she had ever re-
ceiyed from him. It was, therefore,
with q sort Of shudder that she read the
superscription, which ran, in bold BUSH
miss Mary j. Ham, Rifletown, Mass"
The post mark for once not blotted over,
was Chicago; the writer who? M. Jennie
had no acquaintance in that famous
western city. and only by dint of hard
thinking did it occur to her that her
mothers eldest brother, John Rivers
lived there; but he was reputed to be Of
j immense wealth, and very likely he had
never heard Of her existence. She tore
open the envelope and read:
My deal niece: / expect the reception
OF this letter will cause you some surprise,
and the reading of it more. / am your mo-
theirs eldest brother. When / first came to
Chicago l used TO correspond with your
mother; but, Is the years slipped away
oHr letters grew more and more
i%ntreqnent and finally ceased entirely.
Then your dear mother died, and in the
heat OF money getting / lost all traces of
my Eastern relatives. Latterly, / must con-
faaaa erryvS cofGch r,nttxyao r I<,r-o L-.z t..Ls
ing them up. l am getting old. My wife
Is deal. 1 have no child. / need a home.
n,ust know that business men frequent
~ suffer great reyerscs. / have written to
each of my nephews and nieces much as /
have written soyou. My letters have most
" remained unanswered; or, if answered,
but q cold comfort. Will YOU
take pity on an old man. Iawait your an.
swer with Intense interest,
Your uncle,
john RIVERS
M. Jennie slowly folded the letter.
mechanically replaced itinthe envelope,
steps toward her home. She had been
left an orphan at an early age, without a
relative to claim her, and had won her
way only by indefatigable industry and
grit. First, ms a sewing girl, going from
house to house, she had saved money
enough to fiji herself for teaching; she
had toiled night and day, and within
the past twelve months she had obtained
situation in the Rifietown high school,
at \ salary of 500 per annum She liked
dainty things; books and pictures, soft,
yielding carpets, and pretty furniture.
She had a woman's longings for delicate
laces and fine linens and crispy silks and
soft casllmeres, and, recently, in a very
small way. she had commenced to revel
IN their possession. She had even, dur-
her coming vacation, contemplated a
to the White Hill, and over .naps
IN the dllcet pages of Starr King,
in Imagination had foated over tie
bright waters OF the Winnipiseogee and
drank IN the beauties of the Pemigewas-
set, the Saco and the Androscoggin val
leys; and hero. in the face OF
these long. cherished anticipations,
was q letter asking charity.
Nj. Jennie had a tender heart. Her
struggles with poverty had left no call
iorlses on 1T. Her mind we1it reluctant
~ back to those old, unpleasant days
and then reverted to Uncle John. He
had been wealthy and now he had no
he was old, his. wifi. was dead,
he was her dead mothers brother, and
he needed some n to care for him.
All! well. Her lite, SO far, had been
one long repression; why not let it con
tlnue so to the end2 And after all, is
there not sometimes as much pleasure
in the denial as .well as in the cratitica-
ton of a wish?
Long before she reached her home
Jennlv Ind ON to . decision. The
little brown cOttage must accommodate
more. With u friend OF her sewing
days she: had rented u little cottage on "a
buck street, and thus satisfied the in
tense 1ongings of her heart for home.
Her arrangements were soon compile
ted and the next day the mail carried
an answer to Uncle John. II, too
she WROTE; shave known what it is to
have no nome and the one | have to
otter yon may sadly disappoint you; bul
! will try. my best u make it pleasant
for you. Your room is ready, and WILL
my warlaest welcome, waits YOU
coming"
A week later an express wagon landed
an old man, With u battered trunk, or
b doorstep OF the little brown cottage,
10 CHANGED TO be on a saturday, when
Jennie had N school duties, and the
cordial words with which she welcomed
Uncle John were Interrupted by y kiss
on The Old mans cheek, which the lap
Ter did not tali to repay. From undel
. pair OF bnshy eyebrows tllere peeret
o two Keen, sagaciuus gray eyes, which
took in every look and movement ofthe
.iltlle scaoollna'a IAN.
You dear little Samaritan he cried
you, of$almy relatives, alone consent
ed
A soft hand was placed over the oil
mans mouth.
hush! Uncle John, z she said. "Yol
come AS my nollored guest; and you ar,
II make 1T salinariuiil reference. tome.
TAen she introduced Uni I o her CON
paIiolh showed Aiiu through the iltli
|gUIoMli cottage. ANT, WALL. illhlly u III
and little cry, helped HIM carry the old
battered trunk ny the winding stairWa