Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1886-05-07

i toioo forever smut out OF his own
life. He played with Conn by the hour
together, sung him to sleep at night and
ton nm marvels of fairy lore. But.
though unlettered and unread-for }c
na6 never been sent to school-Bertie
had a command of language and a
1ervor OF Imagination that was mar
Vicious.
Even the queer sounds in the old
house, as he lay awake at nights. fur
nlshed him with material for quaint fan
cies. The poor child was often kept
awake by pain, and at such times he
was glad of any thing that would lift his
thoughts from his sufferings. He had
none OF the natural timiditY of his age.
and the rumblings and creakinos fiat
seemed to fill the wall when all else were
asleep sounded like spirit voices to Ber-
ne: and his fancy built them up into
weird stories to entertain little Conn ON
the next dav.
Once, after a night of great pain,
BERTHE fell into a deep sleep toward
morning. And in that sleep a face that
ne knew as well as his own-though
y was but a memory-the pale, sweet
face of his vanished mother, stopped
oyer him.. and pressed on his lips a
ipng, tender kiss. When he opened
ms eager eyes that kiss was still warm
on his lips! What JOY! what agony!
he knew, then, that she had died and
gone TO Heaven, and with a bursting
heart, he cried out that he must 90,
too, since on earth there was no place
for him.
He was frantic with grief and long
ing that day; and ever the pretty ways
OF little Conn failed to bring any Joy to
his aching heart. He took his crute11,
and went out into the streets, and there
he heard the sound of church bells, and
noted how still every thing was, for it
was Sunday. By and by he found HIM
self in a crowd, and as they were all
going to church, he went along with
them. He would presently have been
put put, but a kind old lady opened the
door of her pew and invited him into
it; and there he sat during the service.
He listened, but didn't understand
much; till at once he heard words that
seemed to drop into his soul.
"For we have all some work to do"
he heard the minister say-'tthe hum
blest-the smallest of us. 1t may not
be great or wonderful-but it is ours!
The one thing appointed for us since
the beginning, and in good time it will
be shown to u.s."
To BERTHE this seemed . message d.
rect from Heaven; it brought him peace
and patience; and he felt that he could
wait now till his 'work" was pointed
out to him.
On the next Sunday he would have
stolen out again, but Nanny Flynn
babe him take care of Conn, for it was
Easter Sunday, and the whole family
were going to church. So he stayed
with the child, and told him a story of a
bird that used to be like q Jenny Wren,
but had never known how to sing till
the morning of the first Easter Sunday.
When the stone was rolled away and
Christ had come forth, the bird had
burst into triumphant song, and then
had flown away. singing to all the
world the glad tidings that the Lord had
risen.
After the story Conn demanded a
song, and BERTHE sang an Easter hymn.
Long before it was finished the child
was fast asleep; and his careful nurse
placed him, flushed and beautiful, in his
cratic.
Then he sat down to anluse himself
with some pictures that Biddy had pasted
in an old scrap-book.
What sound was that? BERTHE started
up and looked about while he asked the
question. What a strange, cracking,
crumoling noise-then a loud rumbline
and trembling! What allied the wall that
it bent so toward Conn's cradle? With
a Shrek of horror BERTHE bounded for.
wa1I; unu flung himself owe the sleep.
ing child-then followed a crash and s
roar like thunder!
When the Flynn family returned from
church the house that had been Their
home was a mass of broken timber and
mortar.
"God help me! MY child!" screamed
Conn's mother, and fell insensible.
'.The baby's safe, Mrs. Flynn" a
neighbor fastened to assure the poor
grandmother, who stood, dazed and stu.
pid, gazing at the ruins. Come with
me and see him-the little boy won't let
him out of his arms"
Mrs. Flynn allowed herself to be led
in silence. Whittier than a snow wreath
BERTHE was holding the baby in his arms;
while the little fellow fondled the cheek
already damp with the dew of death.
Mrs. Flynn burst into loud weeping,
as she clasping them both in her arms;
and she kissed Bertie with a thrill Of
pain at her heart that would leave an
ache there us long as she lived.
''Oh, my poor darling! Are ye hurtP'
she asked.
BERTHE smiled as he answered:
81 feel no pain, Nanny Flynn, anc
now 1 know What L W0s tor,' and he
gently pushed little Conn into his
grandmother's arms.
Nanny Flynn would have asked him
to forgive her-to forgive the cruel,
thoughtless words that had wounded
but a sudden awe chained her tongue as
she looked on BERTHE. The child's face
was illuminated with Joy; q g Tory seemed
to rest upon his golden hair; his lips
parted, and then with a soft, rapturouS
cry: ..Mamrna, mammal his spirit
tied to her embrace .-DelroW Free Press,