The true northerner., 1884-05-01


Did ypu ever pass bed of pansies in
full bloom, with their faces all looking
westward to the golden glory of the
setting sunp II you have, did you stop
and watch their sweet faces? No? All,
you do not know what you have missed
Here is bed, now, where all the colors,
gold, purple, black, vie with each other
In their tints and dyes.
Look at that great purple one, rising
high above the rest, Its head tilted back
half scornfully as if proud of its stately
little self. There, short distance
away, mischievous little golden one
laughs at the queenly air of its sister
flower. and then gazes slyly into dew
drop opposite to see if its own little
merry face is not winsome enough to
attract the notice of handsome butter
fly who is futtering past. ALL gay
little pansy, nodding 80 blithely on
your green stalk, take care; do you see
that pretty gold and purple pansy
hiding it's head in that corner? Only
yesterday 1t was as merry and happy as
your wee self, holding up It's face for
the kisses of that very same gay butter
fly, who danced around her all day long;
now she is deserted, while he, happily
fiuttering here and there, has quite for
gotten her, and her little heart Is
broken. Take care, little golden flower,
lest you, too, fall victim to the
fascinations of so dangerous denizen
OF society; better to listen to that
honey-bee, with his drowsy hum; he
will be good and kind.
There, my friend, look over in that
far-away corner; do you see a pale,
sweet little pansy bending itself over
one which, crushed and trampled, lies
on the ground at her feet? She looks
like Sister of Charity.
There, little apart from the rest,
their heads bobbing back and forth, are
two sober-looking ones; you would not
think they could harm anything, but
oh the scandal they are talking.
What miniatures they are of human
lives! They preach their little sermons
eloquently, if only we would listen and
take heed; they tell us Of the love of
the Father who placed them here for
us.
How often in life we meet characters
like the pansies. Sometimes we see a
naughty woman, proud of her wealth
and station, and holding herself aloof
from those whose misfortune, or
fortune, it Is not to possess much of
this worlds goods. She is the purple
pansy.
Sometimes we meet those who were
once careless, happy, merry girls,
whose young spirits are forever crushed,
and whose lives are spoiled by some
butterfly of fashion, who, attracted by
their pretty faces, made them tho toy
OF the hour, to be thrust aside as worth
less when some newer beauty steps
across their path. Sad, alas, is the
fate of these, the merry, golden-faced
pansies.
Then we so often see in real, yes,
very real, life young girl, poor and
alone, jostled by the throng till,
bruised and crushed like the pale little
flower, she gives up, tired out with
buffeting the waves of life. until some
calm, gentle sister of charity--perhaps
not in the conventional garb, but none
the less sister for all that-comes,
and, like the good Samaritan, soothes
and comforts, binds up the bruises,
cheers the sad heart, renews the failing
courage, and sends her, thus comforted,
on her way again; it is sad that there
are not more true Sisters" In this wide
world of ours.
Then there are the gossips, eternally
telling tales of their neighbors over
their cups of tea, and making more
misery by their social talks than a
half-dozen sisters can remedy in a
month.
Well, it takes oil kinds of pansies to
make a hower-bed, and it takes all
kinds of people to make a world. If
we would all, like the little sister pansy,
do our mite to aid and comfort the
desponding ones, how much happier
the world would be; it only takes the
drops to make the mighty river.
Let us leave the pansies now, still
turned to the west, the dew falling like
benediction on their upturned faces
but may we always follow the right as
the flowers their sun, and receive the
many blessings heaped upon us as
gratefully as they do the dew.-Er-
change.