Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1891-12-10
HER INTENTIONS WE'RE OF THE BEST.

She Deserved Better Results, but Her
Efforts Were MIsdirected.
A party of pale faced but bright eyed
children filled car on the Erie railroad
one day in summer, as the train sped
away from the hot streets of New York
up among the cool, fresh fields of the
center Of the state. Their clothes
showed that they were poor, and their
eager, wondering looks, as the trees and
the streams flashed by, proved that they
were unused to the country. They had
been gathered up from the slums and
rookeries of the sweltering city. and
were being sent by fresh air fund to
kind people in the country, who had
agreed to give them a two weeks holi-
day.
The delighted chatter of the little
waits filed the car, and made itself
heard above the clatter of the wheels.
All were wild with glee at the prospect
of good times, and they kept the indi-
vidual in charge of them busy attend
ing to their incessant questions and
keeping their heads inside the windows.
Only one little child, boy of perhaps
ten years, with q sweet and mournful
face, sat by himself perfectly silent.
None Of his comrades spoke to him, and
he kept his face glued to the window
pane and his back turned to the merry
rout.
At one of the way stations warm
hearted woman got on the train, and
hearing that there was party of little
''fresh airs on board, she made her way
into their car and let her good, motherly
heart warm up at the sight of 80 much
happiness where no happiness had been
before. Before long her eyes fell on the
one silent lad of the party, and her
womans sympathy went out to him at
once. He was evidently one of those un-
| fortunate beings who even in their child
hood have not the faculty of making
friends, and who suffer untold pangs of
loneliness because of their repellant man
ner, which is only timidity. Others had
by their gifts of money made all the car
happy but this one; here was her oppor-
tunity to make this one rejoice, too, by
little personal effort.
So she sat down beside him and be-
gan to talk to him. What was his manner
Where was he going? What would he
do in the fields? Did he love the woods?
And 30 on, but to all these the lad made
no reply; did not even turn around. She
peered into his face and saw tears on his
cheek. "Poor little man." she exclaim-
ed, ''lean your head there" and she put
her arm around him and gathered his
curly head on her bosom. The little fell
low looked up at her in surprise, but
seeing only kindness in her face, nestled
on her shoulder and let his heavy eyelids
close.
"Sleepy, are your she asked "Shall
/ tell you storyS" No answer. "Tll
tell you one of a boy who dreamed he
was butterfly" SO she told him long
story, and as he was not yet asleep when
she finished she asked him If he liked it.
The boy made no reply, but looked
blankly at her. Then she told him a
funny yarn that would make craven
image giggle. The lad never relaxed a
muscle, but looked as sad and gloomy as
before.
"What is the matter with the little
fellow" she inquired of q child who ran
by her in the aisle sis he always sadH
Does he never chatter with his play
matesg"
mo, please, 'um," answered the child.
"Iie's deaf mute"
Then the lady went into the forward
car.-New York Tribune.