The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-09-05
THE MISER'S THREE GIFTS.


He lived alone in a little cabin, and
never spent a penny more than he could
help. His room was full of odds and
ends that he had picked up in his wan
derlngs, and never could bring himself
to part with. Old ropes, rusty nails,
crooked hooks. tatters Of old shawls,
tin pans with holes in them; even a lit
tie box full of crooked pins, for good
luck.
The children called him q wizard, and
threw stones at him as he passed through
the village in his queer h~igh-crowned
hat and old coat with long, Tapping
tails, and he sometimes begged them
for bits of the dinners they carried in
their school-bags. Indeed, he was in
the habit of begging of anyone who
would listen to him. But when night
came and everyone had gone to bed,
Donald would close his shutters and
bar his door, and lifting a stone in the
floor, would take from beneath it a pot
OF gold and silver and count it over and
over, owe and over, as if he could
never have done.
One night, as he sat thus telling his
money and expecting nothing so little
as an interruption-for a terrible storm
was raging,-he suddenly heard q rap
at his door, and gathering up his treas
ure, crammed it away out of sight in a
hurry, and, placing his chair over the
stone, pushed the table to it and set on
It q dry loaf and mug of water and an
old newspaper, so that if he had to open
the door there would seem to be some
reason for his being up and dressed.
"Who knows but it is robbers?!" he
cried, "What may you be wanting with
out there?"
|"Shelter from the rilin," said a voice.
1f was q woman's, and though Don
AID IS q miser, he was an Irishman.
He opened the door, and a figure all
In white glided in. Her clothes were
dripping, SO that the water ran from
them down upon the floor as she stood
before the scanty peat fire burning on
the miser's hearth; but there was some
thing about her that made him tremble
and feel very strangely as he said,
MAY l make bold to ask what brings
you here, my lady?
IT come to beg for the poor" said
the woman II come to ask you for a
guinea or two, Donald McDee."
"a Guinea II two!" screamed the
miser. why, woman, I'm the poorest
man alive myself. If you said a guinea,
l haven't got it to give. And. besides,
if the poor had been saving and thrifty
they'd have it laid by. If / had it II
No! J. can't! l won't!n
"a shilling then. Donald McDee,"
said the white m ga shilling for
the poor"
"Would l live like this if I had a
shilling to give away% cried Danald.
"%sixpence," persisted the woman,
''for the poor"
mo, no, I tell you'll" yelled the mis-
Sure you've gone mad, woman!
Do / want to die in the poor-house? 2"
"a penny" said the woman; "only q
penny. It's for your soul"
This time the miser only shook his
head and turned his pockets inside
out.
"Me with pennies to give!" he
groaned; "a poor crayther like mel"
"Then," said the woman, stopping
and lifting q piece of wood from the
floor where it lay, "give me this"
"ThaG?" faltered the miser. sits a
useful bit of good board"
twill you give it to me for humani-
TVS sake?" cried the woman II may
save some poor creature from freezing
tonight"
The old man looked hard at her,
and fought hard with his longing to
snatch it from her. At last, as though
battling with some unseen foe, he gasp
ed take it, and go-take it, and go
qu1ckly"
1t was the first thing he had ever
given away in his life.
The woman took her prize and went
out ct the door. The miser drew it TO
and bolted it, and hurried to his bed.
terrified and trembling. But, strange
~ enough, after that, whenever he
counted his treasure over. he used to
take credit to himself for having been
generous.
'The board was worth a good dale,n
he used to say-"quitea good dale. It's
a fine thing to be charitable. that it is.
] don't begrudge it as some would"
And so he magnifed his generosity,
until one night the low, soft voice came
again; and rs once more he hid his
treasure, the voice called out, "It is I
Donald McDee; let me i'm
He opened the door, though it was
against his will. The starlight shone
behind the figure, and the sky was clear.
"lt's yourself again" said Donald, in
a low voice. 'sNNhat do you want now
for the poor from the poorest of them
ALP"
what will you give" asked the
woman
Donald looked about him. A little
coil Of rope hung on q nail; he had
begged it of some sailors. He snatched
it down and erammed it into her hands.
"Therel It's worth a good dale" he
said. Its a good bit OF a rope; take it,
and CO."
Without a word, the woman took it
from him and vanished.
Something seemed to simmer be-
tween Donald's eyes and the stars, but
what it was he knew not.
He hurried in, and hurried to bed,
and dreamed all night that he had given
away all his treasured gold. It was a
horrible dream; but still from that time
on be spoke OF the board and the rope
to himself when he counted up his good
deeds.
"Im not a miser, as they say" he
would mutter over his money. II am
always giving ropes and boards to the
poor"
At last poor Donald McDee fell very
Ill. He stayed in bed, unable to get out
Of it. Under him, in the mattress, all