Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1890-01-18

and q hungry young heart contrasted
their lot with Its own.
Hungry! There never was any thing
like the starvation which goes on some
times in those shut-up farm-houses.
Boys and girls feel 1t alike; but the
boys are less to be pitied, for they can
usually devise means to get away.
How could Brie get away? She was
the only child. Her parents had not
married young. When she was nine
teen they seemed almost elderly peo-
pie, so badly does life on bleak New
England farm deal with human beings.
Her mother, o frail little woman, grew
year by year less fit for hard labor. The
farm was not productive. Poverty,
pinch, tho inevitable recurrence OF the
same things to be done day after day,
month after month, tho same needs fol-
lowed by the same fatigues-all these
Brie had to bear; and all the while the
child had that love and longing for the
beautiful which is part Of the artists
equipment, and the deprivation Of
which is keen suffering. Sweet sights,
sounds, smells-all these she craved,
and could get only in such measure as
her daily work enabled her to get from
that world Of nature which is the salts
faction OF eager hearts to whom all
other pleasures are denied.
The fir wood on the upper hill was
the temple whore she worshiped.
There she went with her Bible Sunday
afternoons, with her patching and stock
ing mending on other days. There she
dreamed her dreams and prayed her
prayers, and while there she was con-
tent. But all too soon would come the
sound of the horn blown from below, or
call from the house, 'Brie, Brie, the
men are coming to supper; make haste"
and she would be forced to hurry back
to the work-a-day world.
Harder times followed. When she
was just twenty her father fell from his
loaded hay wagon and fractured his
thigh. There was no cure for the hurt,
and after six months Of hopeless attend
ance he died. Brie and her mother were
left together on the lonely farm, with
the added burden Of large bill for doc
toring and medicines, which pressed like
heavy weight on their honorable
hearts.
The hired man, Reuben Hall, was we'll
disposed and honest, but before Mr..
Dorset's death he had begun to talk Of
going West, and Brie foreboded that he
might not be willing to stay with them.
Mrs. Dorset, broken down by nursing
and sorrow, had become an invalid, un-
able to assist, save in the lightest way.
The burden was sore for one pair Of
young shoulders to bear. Brie kept up
. brave face by day, but at night hor-
rors Of helplessness and apprehension
seized her. The heavens seemed a.
brass agains: which her feeble prayers
beat in vain; the future was barred, as
IL were, with an impossible gate.
What could she do? Sell the farm?
That would take time, for no one in par
ticuiar wanted to buy it. II Reuben
would only stay by them they might be
able to fight it out for another year, and,
what with butter and eggs and the corn
crop, make enough for his wages and
bare living. But would Reuben stay?
Our virtues sometimes treat us as in
vesSments do, and return a dividend
when we least expect it. 1t was at this
hard crisis that certain good deeds OF
Briefs in the past stood her friend. She
had always been good to Reuben, and
her sweet ways and consideration for
his comfort had gradually won pass
age into his rather stolid affections.
Now seeing the emergency she was in,
and the courage with which she met 1t,
he could not quite find the heart to
''leave the little gal to make out by her
SELF" Fully purposing to 60, he stayed,
putting off the idea Of departure from
month to month, and though true to his
idea Of proper caution, he kept his good
intentions to himself so that the relief
Of having him there was constantly
tempered by the dread lest he might go
at any time; still it was relief.
So April passed, and May and June.
The crops were planted, the vegetables
in. Brie strained every nerve. She
petted her hens and coaxed every posi-
BILE egg out Of them, she studied the
tastes Of the two COWS, she maintained
brave show Of cheer for her ailing
mother, but all the time she was sick ut
heart Every thing seemed closing in.
How long could she keep it up?
The balsam frs Of the hill grove
could have told tales in those days
They were Brie's sole confdants. The
consolation they gave, the counsel they
communicated, were mute indeed, but
none the less real to the anxious girl
who sat beneath them, or laid her cheek
on their rough stems. June passed, and
with early July came the answer to
Brie's many prayers. 1t came, as an
swers to prayers often do, in shape Of
which she had never dreamed.
Miss Mary Morgan, teacher In Gram |