Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1886-04-30

-, 49, n0.siehy CHllu N0 saw all the
possibilities forever shut out of his own
life. He played Win Conn by the hour
together, sung him to sleep at night and
toIa nm marve4s of fairy lore. But,
though unletter.h and unread-for he
had never beer sent to school-Bertie
a a command of language and a
tervor of Imagination that was mar
velous.
Even the eleer sounds in the old
house. a he lay awake at nights, fur
nished him with material for Quaint fan
cies. The pjor child was often kept
awake by pin, and at such times he
was glad of my thing that would lift his
thoughts from his sufferings. He had
none OF the natural timidity of his age.
and the runblings and creakings that
seemed to i'll the wall when all else were
asleep sounded like spirit voices to Ber-
tie; and lis fancy built them up into
weird stories to entertain little Conn on
the next lay.
Once, after a night of great pain,
BERTHE fill into a deep sleep toward
morning. And in that sleep a face that
he knew as well as his own-though
it was hut a memory-the pale, sweet
face Of his vanished mother, stopped
over him. and pressed on his lips a
long, iender kiss. When he opened
his eager eyes that kiss was still warm
on his lips! What Joy! what agony!
He knew, then, that she had died and
goneto Heaven, and with a bursting
hear, he cried out hat he must 60,
too. since on earth there was no place
for him.
He was frantic with grief and long,
ing that day; and even the pretty ways
Of little Conn failed to bring any Joy to
his aching heart. He took his crutch,
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 out, but q 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 d."
he heard the minister say-''the 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 q message d.
rect from Heaven; it brought him peace
and patience; and he felt that he could
wait now till his s.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 "a 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 9
song, and BERTHE sang an Easter hymn.
Long before it was finished the chic
was fast asleep; and his careful nurse
placed him, flushed and beautiful, in his
cradle.
Then he sat down to amuse himself
with some pictures that Biddy had pasted
in an old s~crap-book.
What sound was that? BERTHE started
up and looked about while he asked the
question. What a strange, cracking,
crumbling 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.
wa11 anu flung himself over the sleep.
ing child-then followed a crash and 4
roar like thunder!
When the Flynn family returned from
church the house that had been their
home was u mass of broken timber and
mortar.
Good 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 BERTHE with a thrill OF
pain at her heart that would leave an
ache there as long rs she lived.
t4Oh. nv DOOr darlinpi Are We lurt?'
she asked.
BERTHE smiled as he answered:
81 feel no pain, Nanny Flynn, an6
now 1 know what I Was 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
to rest upon his golden hair; his lips
parted. and then with q soft. raptu rOrlS