The Press., 1885-01-15
fFor the Press.l AUNT WAITIE'S STORY.
BY DELLA ADELAIDE.


 What is it you ask mo, stranger? The reason We'll, thereby hangs a story, which mebbe
 you'd like to hear. An item! Was that what you called it :? Be
 ye one O them newspaper men, That write things down to be printed9
 read lem now and again. You are! Well, I'll tell ye the story, begin
 nin' as stories should, With & once on time, in the days long ago,
 as happy as birds in the wood, At the foot of yon mountain we built us a
 home, but shadow was over it cast, Which, at eighty years old and over, sent me
 to the poor-house at last. But as long as we didn't know it, we had no
 reason for care, And we lived content in our little cot, and children came to us there: Girls that were merry and blithesome, boys
 that were sturdy and strong, And we toiled for them late and early, as
 year after year sped along, Till, almost before knew it, they'd grown to
 be women and men, And had flown away from the home nest, and
 our cottage was empty again For their father had gone years before to that
 bourne whence no traveller comes back, And though we'd enough of hard labor, yet
 nothing of comfort we'd lacked. When the children were every one married,
 and settled in homes of their owl, Twas just as easy as slidin' to let mother en-
 tirely alone. But when sickness or trouble OCT took lem,
 twas really surprisin' to see How quickly they'd come to the cottage, for
 help and for comfort and me.
  They sed I'd gift among sick folks, and in
 fact knew it myself; ss.... .. . But gave them mv services freely, nor bar
 tered my knowledge for pef Then back to my home by the mountain, and
 again they would keep we'll aloof, Till the doors were all loose on their hinges,
 and the stars could be seen thro' the roof. Three score years and ten had passed Der me
 when the shadow that once was so slight All at once settled down around me, in a
 cloud as black as the night; a For, owin' to some careless writin', they found
 in the deed a slight flaw , That turned my gray head out of doors, sir,
 for nice little point of law. You see how it was, don't you, stranger I
 was penniless, homeless and old. Of course krew twas their duty to hey shel-
 tered me from the cold; And guess John would hev been willin' to
 give me a seat by his fire, .,... For he asked me ever so pleasant to cum
 down and visit Marier. Bnt she's got booty high temper, an car.
 ries good deal of sail, An she met me there in the doorway, and
 fought me, tooth and nail. She was bound that shouldn't come in, for
 she knew John expected I'd stay; But you know that cou dn't stand that SC when John cum he brought me away. wasn't discouraged even then, and somehow
 got along, Though ev'ry year it was harder, for wasn't
 over strong @a Till my war ng powers betrayed me into
 rates relentless grasp, And, at eighty years old and over, am on
 the town at last.
 hated dreadfully to cum; couldn't begin
 to tell;
 But the frosts of eighty winters chill me with
 their fatal spell.
 And though some are almost helpless, and
 some on crutches limp, Yet it's little care or pity that we get from
 Madam Scrimp. .... No, stranger, it ain't pleasant, nor don't be-
 ieve it's right;
 care mite. A. But I'll try to be contented for the promises
 are sure, ,.#a And the Lord takes notice when they grind
 the faces of the poor.