The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1885-01-28
for the CHILDREN.
ROsie's Prize Story.

pest original CnrlSulnaS STORY, Wrllleu
by a pupil of the Briarville public
schools. And then it goes on to tell
how you must send the story so that
nobody'll know who it is-and so on.
Phewl don't / wish / was in school
again. Fifteen dollarsl Rosie, why
don't you try? Your composition on
Umbrellas was perfectly splendid.
Everybody said So"
Rosie, thin slip of girl, much too
tall for her years, smiled indifferently,
as if fifteen dollars was small sum to
make such sensation. Rosie, or
Rosafine, as she had been christened,
was the pride of the family, and was
looked up to as absolute authority in
all matters intellectual The Blenders
had once been quite well-to-do in the
world, and during the many years that
Mr.. Bender had been foreman at
Briggs and Wenham's Machine Shops
he had been able to buy the house
which was now their home, and, like
the prudent man that he was, to lay
away snug little sum for a rainy day.
But the rainy day came. He had re-
ceived severe blow on the head from
a broken machine, and the injury to
the brain had caused partial paralysis,
which rendered the once powerful man
mentally and physically as helpless as
a child.
The elder boys, Tom and Harry, had
good places, but there were four younger
than Rosa, and the many mouths to be
filed had made great hole in the rainy
day fund. They would have made a
larger one with less capable minister of
finance than Mrs. Bender, whom years
of careful saving when the dollars were
coming in had taught lessons of judi
cious spending, now that the pennies
were going out. There was never a
cent wasted, but this rigid economy
meant hard work all day, and fatiguing
sewing and darning and patching until
late into the night. So there was
another pale face in the house besides
that of the father-a mothers, worn
thinner and paler every day. Rosie
she was to be teacher.
eyes, Rosie, said Mrs. Bender, smil-
ing up from her everlasting mending,
"you might get the prize, and give us
all Christmas presents"
ooh, 1 couldn't do it, said Rosie,
little impatiently. {" You expect too
much of me. You think that I can
do everything" Then, catching
glimpse of the gentle reproach in her
mothers face" Never mind. mother,
I'll try"
Rosie was in the main good girl,
but poverty had not been an unmixed
blessing to her. AT fourteen, it is a
very remarkable girl who is Indifferent
to the fact that her clothes are shabier
than those of her companions. Rosie
was not that remarkable girl. She was
very good student, but she liked hav-
ing the girls think that her good recita-
tons came without any work. She
liked making them feel that in point of
quickness she was head and shoulders
above them. In thousand ways she
had managed to gain the reputation of
being so smart that she didn't have
to study bit" This petty deception
had grown much faster than she was
aware, and had eaten its way into many
good traits of character. She was de-
votedly fond of her mother, and tried
in many ways to help lift the burden at
home, but it took nearly all her time to
keep the position she held at school,
and there was little left. When she
first heard the announcement of the
prize story she determined to try for
it, but the habit of pretended indiffer-
ence was so strong she was unwilling
to let even her family think she was so
much interested.
That very night, after she had gone
to bed, she lay awake long time plan
ming Christmas story, but sleep came
before the plot did. The next morning
a. fn1lyaI Of OF cnhnnl
and every girl in Rosie's class an
nounced her determination to try for
the prize. Every day Rosie spent all
her spare time endeavoring to work up
something which would be good enough
to offer. She finished two, copied
them, and tore them up. She knew
they were poor, and the more she
worked the worse they seemed to get.
A part of the truth was that she had
not single one of the requisites of a
good story-teller-quick observation,
Imagination, or ease of expression.
December 10th came, and Rosie had
done nothing. The stories were to go
in on the 18th. She was very unhappy,
but she allowed no one to suspect it. 1t
was Saturday, and her work this week
was to clear the kitchen closet She
went to work bright and early, that she
might have time for one more trial at
the story. As she was taking the pa
pers off the shelf her eye caught the
words 60 Christmas Gift.'' She began
reading eagerly. Here was good
Christmas story, a capital one, and il
sounded so easy. Why couldn't she
write one? She would try. She
would not be beaten by those other
girls, and let them see that she was
really no brighter than they. She put
the paper down, and went on with hel
work, half blinded with tears of morti
fcation and disappointment. At tha
instant terrible temptation came into
her heart. She was frightened at it
and fairly caught at the shelf to steady
herself Then she stopped and picket
up the paper. "The Nantes Messen
ger, December oath, 1853" She didn'
know anything about Nantes, excep
that her father had once lived there.
When she has finished her work sh
took the paper with her to her room
and, entering, locked the door. AM
there behind that little wooden barrier
went on battle which Rosie will re
member all her life; battle in which
the right and good were beaten, as the
oftan are in such contests in orr moo