Seattle daily post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, W.T. [Wash.]) 1881-1888, 1884-07-04

ibE-ahcu- 4 ~ NefS a-%Aiar NJIIl-
forts in the Masters iowiy gifts.
There she was, that wretch~d old
nag. kaeelingsjn the lnng grass. ca
ressing Iovin civ the wild flowers that
grew 10 great luxurience about the
hut.
1 heard her say: "Oh. my sweets.
nv pretty crimson cluvers. butter
cups and daisies. You're all out to-
day, full blown. saw you the first
thing this morHing shaking your bon.
ny heads in the sunshine as the wind
went tossing by. And you're here
Tor q whsle summer, my precious
ones; how came you TO come and
blossom SO sweet Just 10 please old
Margery. but you amt afraid Of her,
oh, no! Nargery wouldn't hurt you.
for the worldl She OILY looks at you.
and YOU kinaier help her from being all
alone You don't know my preities.
what an awful thing it is to be all
alone. always all alone, with no one
10 care whether you lived or died
No. you cant know how 10 10. when
you're gone and the wind bowls
around the hut. or how ! keep pray
ing the good Lord TO hasten the sum-
mer and send you back Twas al
WAYS sa; NO one could ever bear
Msrgery; her poor old shoulder and
the great hump on her back were al.
ways against her, The old bag,
they call me, even the little children.
my sweets. / wish they wouldn't
for love them so-why. crimson
clover. weuld be ready to die to-
morrow for very joy. if one would
come and kiss me. an say how d we
do. Msrgeryy But, oh M; that can't
be. they are afraid OF me; afraid OF
mel"
Reader, was a sinless little child
then; il | had been older | should
probably have stitied under the
cloak of pride and seitishness the
MODEST impulse OF my life. But.
hank God, I did not, for without a
moments hesitation I climbed the
fence and with tears of sympathy l
caught the old creatures hand in
mine and said, IS bent and kissed
her. How dye do. Margery."
Great God forgive as! how shall
We ever answer for these poor neg
lected souls that the kiss OF . child
can so overc0mes She gaxed upon
me for several moments In mute IS
tonishment. then burst out sobbing
and laughing alternately. saying over
and over TO the senseless flowers:
She did IL. my sweetsi Just think.
can you believe! Some ono has real.
y kissed Asfgery and said. how dye
dor"
She has been dead this many Q
year; the old hat hiss tumbled In long
ago: the people Of tho village have
ceased to speak Of her. She Was d.
vsys . wsadee 70 them, "ths queer
old bag" They looked q her out
wardly; not one even dreamed I
beautiful soul Icy hid In such arough
casket. But knew Il and learned %
love her well.
The day she died-oh, such beau
tiful day-she daisies. buttercups and
the ci0vers how they swung their
heads and peeped In ct the old door!
All day long she lay with ono hsad
locked fast In mine. At sunset,
when the yellow rays streaked the
crimson banners hung Ia the west.
the angels camc they were not ssharn-
edl She heard them. the beautiful
soul came up and looked out of its
prison windows with such q glad
look, such - the prisoner wears
when. after dreary years of darkness,
the iron bars fall and the door Of his
ce awnings back. letting in the bless.
ed sunlight once more.
I dressed the poor. worn body for
the grave. smothed back the tangled
hair. filed the tired hands full Of
flowers.
In the stony corner of the grave
yard, overgrown with briarsand net.
Ties. they made her a grave. No one
had been buried in that part for
years. it was so desolate and nothing
would grow there, but it was good
enough for an .old bag" A wool
en mark was erected and many scott
ed when | begged them to put Mar
gerry on it.
| was called away soon after her
death and did not return until the
following summer. One morning |
entered the graveyard for the express
purpose OF placing a few flowers on
the grave in the desolate corner.
What was my surprise to behold III
There above, and all around it, cher
sweets" were growing. tossing their
crimson, white aud yellow heads.
saving plainly, we've followed
you, Margeryw My poor flowers
we're not needed, ] saw in minute,
So | placed them on rich old granny
Markham's grave, which locked SIM
galarly bare for al the costly moau.
ment which cast its shadow over it,
thinking TO myself. God was Marge.
rvs only friend while she WAS on
earth He sent the simple wild flow
ers to cheer her here, and now he
has sent them TO cover her grave.
Year after year they come, more
luxuriant each time. A sweet-briar
rose has been added. blue and white
violets peep up, the seeds of rare
plants are waited that way until the
desolate old corner il glowing Ar
cadia. The birds sing the sweetest
there. the sunhea:as are the brightesi,
the children love TO play longest near
the grave. Once Que. more wise
than the average, called ID Gods cor
ner." and il has borne the name
ever since.