Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1889-05-31
NOT AN ORDINARY GIRL.
BY OLIVE HARPER.


road driving them critters"
Eyes, it's her, barefoot as usual f"
"And the ground all frosty like it is.
1t Is shame Of that father Of hers to
treat her so"
Down the roadway walked the young
girl whose fOrlOrn condition had called
forth these remarks, her bare feet pur-
pie with cold, but she seemed to have
forgotten their existence, for though
she kept her COWS before her in the
road it was mechanically, as she was
absorbed in a book that she held open
ia her hand.
Her name was Mercy Lord, but
somehow people in that little village
had gotten into the habit of calling her
Lords Mercy, partly from the fact that
she was the only child left to her
brOken-hearted mother out of seven,
and also in grim sense of humor as
showing the kind of mercy some peo-
pie receive In this world. Her father,
Thomas Lord, was what the farmers
around called a driver" and he was
one, indeed, and whatsoever lived IN
der his rule was driven and driven to
work until nature gave way. But he
was as tough as a pine knot himself,
and could work from before daybreak
to dark and still not feel tired, so he
would never allow any one else to COM
plain of fatigue. His poor wife, broken
in health and spirit, sank into an in
vaid's chair, and would probably have
died had it not been for Mercy, who
loved her mother with an affection as
rare as beautiful.
But little chance had the poor child
TO show her love, save by the kisses as
she flew in and out, up and down at
L. l.
for five young girls Of her age. How
she ever completed her tasks her poor
mother did not know. A large farm,
all the hands to cook for, the house to
keep in order, the COWS and sheep and
other animals to attend to, the dairy
and the hens to look after, and all the
spinning, knitting, making and mend
ing to do, and this burden on the
shoulders of a girl of eighteen. But
she did it, and without complaint
The hardest thing Mercy had to bear
was that her father was a miser and
did not believe in girls dressing her
self up" as he said, and he allowed
her but one calico dress and one pair
of shoes year, and no money to get
anything else with, and so she was
never more than half-clad, and could
go nowhere nor enjoy any of the limo
Another girl would have grown hard
and sullen, and so, perhaps would
have done Mercy had it not been that
she did not think of her deprivatiOns
at all. For Mercy lived in another
world, that of books and study. Up
in the garnet was a whole chest full of
books that had been left there by
young man who had for time boarded
with her parents, and these books were
Mercy's solace and help. From her
mother she had learned to read, and
the rest was easy to this fresh young
brain, and every one of its energies
was devoted to the mastery of the
studies, and wherever Mercy was she
had in her pocket grammar or some
other school book until she had learned
all of these, and then she entered into
the wonderful realm of the past ages,
as shown in geology; she knew every
plant, tree and flower by its scientific
name, and the stars and elements held
no longer any secret from her that the
best of books could teach. The mo-
ments when she could study were
snatched one by one, when she churned
or knitted or spun or drove the COWS,
and on Sundays and sometimes a little
in the evenings, so that few, indeed,
were the girls of her age who could
boast of so excellent or thorough an
education. She studied because she
loved to study, and no parties, visits or
suitOrs diverted her mind, and she
found her only comfort and pleasure
IN them except that which came from
her intercourse with her fading mother.
All the girls from the village and
those from the farms around pitied
Mercy because Of her round of cease
A.,Sf = l. II, s.
but she knew nothing of their pity nor
wanted it. She was, if not happy, at
least content, and though her poor
hands We're bare and rough there was
not one among them all who could
write as beautifully as she.
One day her mother felt that she
must make her peace with God, for
she knew that her time was nearly
spent, and the minister was sent for
and he came out to the farm to spend
the afternoon and talk and pray with
the invalid. Mercy lowered near her
mother as much as she could in the
intervals of her labor and heard the
minister talking, and her mother say
ing that her only regret was that poor
Mercy should be obliged to keep along
In the same old rut and die at last Of
hard work before her time, and he
tried to console her as best he could,
CHANGING carelessIy at Mercy the while.
After he went, Mercy began to think
of herself She suddenly became
conscious of the hardships of her life,
and she also became suddenly con
sciOus that her dress was mean and
poor and old and faded, and that she
was barefoot. The red blood mounted
to her hair and tears of shame to her
eyes. Her father was "well-tO-dO,
and here was she. his only child, bare