The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993, 1885-07-18
FINDING MAMMA.
How Susie Searched for Her, and
Where She Found Her.

GAS for man, his days are as grass.
As the flower of the field so he -four
isheth; for the wind passeth over it,
and it is gone; and the place thereof
shall know it no more"
"Men go to sea, and never return.
1t may be the prince of a nation that
the ocean wraps in its chilling waters;
it may be an unknown stowaway, dis
owned and dishonored. Death comes
to all alike. His stealthy tread adj
vances often unheralded. 1t there
fore becomes us all, in whatever age or
rank of life we are, to be prepared.
AS for man, his days are as grass, u
repeated the minister.
Would he never stop? Susie knew
he had been talking for at least three
hours. In reality, the poor man had
Just commenced his sermon; but there
was no denying the facts, that it was a
very warm day, that the pew had a
very hard seat and very stiff back,
and that Susie was a very little girl.
Her feet didn't come near the floor. In
fact, the seat was so high that it was as
much as grandma could do to touch
hers. Grandma sat in the corner and
Susie at the end of this old-fashioned
pew. They always went to church to-
gether since mamma died and papa
went away in the great ship with the
patch on the sail, that Susie and
grandma watched out of sight.
Grandma let Susie sit in the end be-
cause it made her feel so important,
and sometimes had the effect of keep
ing her still. But to-day poor little
Susie didn't know what to do. She
looked around the little church.
She glanced out the window. O.
the blue sky, the golden sunshine, the
green grass, and the many-colored
flowers outside! A rose vine, Chamber
ing up the old church wall, peepeC
saucily in, and shook two pink roses a
Susie. 1t seemed as though they
blushed and smiled at her alone, anC
the leaves were just so many hnger
reckoning her to come outside. ava.
from the sleepy deacon, the tiresom
sermon and the stiff-backed pew.
''If l could only CO." thought Susie
81 don't believe the minister woul'
care. don't believe he cares anything
about little girls at all. He isn't talk
ing to me, anyway. He says: Men ar
like grass. I'm not a man. don
believe I'm like grass, either. My dea
mamma never said so. She called m
"a butterfly "a rosebud and her 'ow
sweet birdie D, mamma! mamma
why did you die and leave me a
alonee"
Two great tears rolled down Susie
cheeks, and left two spots on her SUI
day dress. A gay little bird lighted Q
tree near by and chirped, and whistle
and flew away. Susie heard him, an
could see through her tears that Il
roses were still blushing and beckonir
more smilingly than ever. She glance
at grandma. The old lady was ia
asleep.
''Shc won't care, anyway" thougl
Susie. III meet her at the door wht
church is out, and it will be all right
I take her hand and walk home wi
her."
Down to the floor slid two little fee
and tip-toed noiselessly up the aisl
while a very short distance above the
shone two bright eyes, glancing quick
from side to side. But no one saw t
little girl, and in moment she sto'
on the church steps in the free air a.
sunshine. Having come thus far, s
did not care about going farther, b
sat down on the steps, and listened in
dreamy way to the minister's voit
which was only faint murmur VIII
il reached her. But just as her he
was dropping in sleep lit
dog came down the street. He was