The Washington critic., 1885-05-27
LITTLE LOTTIE.
CALLED BACK TO DUTY ny THE VOICE OF A
CHILD.

on the subject
There, for example, is little Lottie. A
lovely child, with dark flowing trcsses
that are impatiently tossed here and there
when she shakes that defiant little head
her eyes are deep violet, and possess
peculiar aptitude for finding out hidden
sweetmeats; and there is the rosy little
mouth, to which those same dainties are
so welcome, and which Fuckers up to pout
and weep when they are refused.
"Ah," " some one will say, "a naughty,
spoilt child" Oh, no, only very child
like child, just as nature made her. The
good father above knows why children
must be children why they are often
naughty and cry Tor goodies and, above
ALL why they must ask so many questions.
Questions! Lottie understood that to per-
fiction. 1t was her amusement. She
wanted to know everything. She was
perpetually making inquiries. Very often
she did not wait mt all for an answer; be-
fore it came something else would attract
her attention, and she would .prattle on
and on forever. She was so bright and
lovable that it sounded very sweet.
But one day the little one became
frightened at a severe storm which arose.
The mother had gone to visit some friends
and the maid was also absent, 50 little
Lottie was left in the nursery alone. The
lightning and thunder were incessant.
IlOlthnB ull upplc tlpllJ III neT HUllu, Jlc
child glided from the room and made her
way to her fathers study, where he was
now sitting, writing letter-a long fare
well letter to life, hope, everything. He
had been wealthy young merchant, but
one short hour ago. With generous heart
he had stood security for friends, who had
grossly swindled him in return. His
wealth was gone; on the table beside him
lay the telegram bearing the fatal news
that he was beggar.
Although only thirty, he was no longer
young man; in one hour he had grown
aged, broken down, finished with life.
The past lay behind him like a lost para
dise.that happy past with wife and
child by his side. His young wife, who
had never known a care, to whom he had
promised an existence of sunshine, she
would now be obliged to learn to know
dark days of misery, Of poverty, Of dis
not forgive rich man for becoming poor;
| it pushes him aside, it knows him no
| more. And he, who out of the goodness
of his heart had given away all, who
would believe him? His fellow men
would say, he is a, rogue, he must
| Even if the world did excuse him, could
he excuse himself? Could he say to his
innocent wife: "Sufler, bear all this mis-
cry for my sake?" Would he who had
plunged her into the abyss Of want de-
serve Sucn II sacrifice
Thus his thoughts tortured him, and
drove him toward death; therefore he was
writing his parting letter to his Wife. He
| racked his brain to find suitable words
with which to explain to her how it had
| all come about and to beg her forgive
| ness. BY the side of the paper on which
| he wrote lay pistol. When he had fin
ished writing he would grasp it, and
| then
All at once he saw soft little fingers laid
| on the weapon. In the noise of the storm
| he had not heard the child come in. Ter
| ritied, he caught the little hand.
What do you want?' he asked with
rough voice and averted face. He could
| not look at the innocent one whom he was
| about to make an orphan.
81 was so afraid" she said. at light
nings so sharp want to stay with YOU"
He did not answer, but wrote on in
| tently. He could send the child away
| Papa" she asked, "what is that"
| "a pistol, to shoot WITH
| Like the little one Willie got from Santa
| ClausW Willie was neighbor's son, and
| his pistol had been Christmas gift.
| YES but be still and let me write
| She did not remain silent long. Papa"
she began again, "did you get yours too
from Santa Claus? Will you shoot with it,
too?"
He made no answer, but wrote on.
Papa, who makes it thunder sog'
"The good God, he said, and wrote still
God to stop it. 1t is so'dreadful.
His lips moved slightly. Then she
asked again, Papa, when is the good
Gods birthday? have promised Him
something on His birthday if He stops it,"
But the father wrote on wrote of his
DESTROYED hopes Of his deathly sutferings
and despair, while the child stood at his
side and prattled
Papa, has the good God children, too?n
They must get lovely things from Santa
Claus! Papa, do you know where the
stork lives? | asked mamma, but she
said when he brought me to her he flew
right oil again, away, away off; | would
like to see him some day. Willie says he
has seen him, but ! don't know ifit was
my stork or not"
AT last she wanted to bite her apple, but
she remembered mamma had forbidden
her to eat ii unpeeled Laying one little
hand on the writer's arm, she stopped the
| pen.
PLEASE, papa, peel my apple"
! He turned hastily and would have
chided her, but when he met the clear
brown eyes looking so coniidingly into
| his, he could not summon courage to do
it. Taking his pocket-l1nife, he began to
peel the apple Lottie looked ON.
What makes an apple have peel like
that? The good God lets it grow ON, and
cannot eat il. What use is it?''
| "Why it keeps the cold out in winter,n
he replied handing her the fruit.
| She was just going to press it with the
pearly little teeth, when she thought of
Something else and asked: "What good
does that do?"
She looked so innocent, so sweet he was
completely overcome. Drawing her to
him, he lifted her on his knee and covered
her face with kisses. AT last, at last, he
could weep
She thought he was afraid of the storm
which idea increased her alarms, and she
began to weep also. "Ah, it is so dread
fuiw she whispered. "You must promise
Him something, too, if He will only
stop it,"
| "What shall PROMISE Lottie@'
| She could only think of what she her
self promised, when her parents were
vexed at her fears. "You promise that
you will be right bravem
| That cut him to the heart. BE brave !
To fly from life, to iorsake wife and child
was that brave? He gave her no an
swer.
"Have you promised ?n she asked after
n pause, and Just then dazzling flash
came. "Quck promise now" she urged
and in her increasing terror she began to
pray aloud just what came into her mind
first. "Father above, protect my sleep
| and let thy angels keep watch over me"
"Father," his heart whispered. "Thou
art the father of this little one, who in
| trusting love reposes on Thy breast, look