The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1886-04-29
BERTIE'S MISSION.
He Found Out on Easter Sunday
What He WAS For"


All day the burning sun had scorcheC
the dry earth. Along country road
the dust lay. fine and light rs powder
the grass By the way5ide was Drowned
the fields of yellow grain fell in great
swaths beneath the scythc, and lay like
glittcring gold along the ground, while
the crimson. blistcred face of the pant.
ing reaper pleaded in vain to the cruel
luminary to hide his own glowing coun-
tenancc behind 4 friendly cloud. The
very trees of the forest gaSped for air,
their leaves shriveled and the bark Civ
ing forth an ominous ordOr of possible
combustion.
Since early morning the suns
rays but family foretold the heat to come
"a slight, pale woman had been walk
inc along those hot and dusty roads
BY noon she had Travelled many miles
and vet her journey was but half done
for she had set out to reach the great
city, where so many sad hearts are lost
in the crowd save to their unhappy
owners. She carried a little child who
locked so pale and wan that he might
have been mistaken for one-half his real
age, which was almost two years. But
even his light weight, upborne by the
love which makes such weights easy to
carry, was at times insupportable to the
weary mother. From time to time she
came to the shade of a solitary tree and
then sat down at the root of it or on a
stone by the wayside to rest for few
moments, and on each occasion she
stopped over the child to kiss his brow
or lips, as if to assure him that he was
not the cause of her fatigue. She often
removed his little straw-hat, too, and
gently famed the tiny face, fair as Il
snowdrOp and, Notwithstanding its deli
cate pallor, eXquisitely lovely.
At high noon the travellers met q
buxom country girl returning from the
field after carrying dinner to the NOW
crs, who stopped to admire the child and
inquire if it was i'll.
''No, not ILL.," the mother answered,
gazing wistfully at her child; ''but he
never very strong"
How old is he?" was the girls next
question.
He will be two years old next
month"
Land sake! And don't he walk
yet?"
He has never walked-yet-he's
lame. But hope he will walk some day.
/ am taking him to the city, because /
have been told the doctors there are
spln |
hope to have him made strong, for he S
never had any accident. One little
ankle is so weak that he can't put the
foot on the ground when he tries t.
stand. You see he's never been able tn
learn to walk, like other children of his
age"
She spoke with a pitiful pleading, as
if it was necessary to find excuses for the
child, because he was less forward than
other children.
poor little fellow said the farmer 5
girl, kindly enough, land YOU have to
carry him all the time-how tired You
must be! Come to the house and rest
Perhaps he would take cup of milk :"
The woman thanked her with CRATE
full look. and the girl continued, hold,
lily Oul LCI lisiilNlS 10 the Cnllu.
LET me carry him for you. / love
children, and the little rogues know it.
Come, little pretty! What's his name?"
His name is Albert, but call him
Berthe"
Come to me, BERTHE" said the girl,
and the child smiled and held out his
hands.
And your own name?' the girl went
on with an inquisitive look at the moth
GER, "Mrs.-what?"
My name is Tingler,'' the pale wom-
an answered, coldly.
The farmers girl did not pursue her
questions, for she saw they were unwel-
come; an instinct of good breeding,
oftener found among the untaught than
they get credit for, told her further in
quiry might give pain.
Mrs. Tingler proceeded in silence; but
the girl chartered to the baby and drew
from him many an unexpected peal of
laughter, while at every sound of his
merriment the pale mother smiled and
frightened till her own laughter mingled
with that of the child.
At the farmers house they Jared well
and the good people refused to let them
proceed until they had rested from their
Journey. When they again set out on
their way, although the heat was in
creased, the pale mother did not feel it
so much; for kindness and sympathy
had lightened her heart. All the after
noon she walked steadily on, and her
little boy was held so close to her heart
that she did not realize how nearly
she was worn out with fatigue and
hunger. Toward nightfall she came to
the outskirts of the great city, and the
prospect was not encouraging to eyes
accustomed to the freshness of the coun-
try. As she passed street after street
there seemed a mingled odor of oil,
dirt, grease and general untidinsss