The San Saba news. [volume] (San Saba, Tex.) 1873-1966, 1891-05-22
pei CHILD.

Pe name at all; it was
:, Elizabeth Ann; but the
chilli was from her birth such spark of
gayety and brightness, such an indomit-
able bit of fun and cheer that she earned
her nickname. Her father died before
she could remember; her mother lay dy-
ing Tor years. poverty beset the house;
Charity, with cold half-fiIled hands, kept
Clarinds Ames and her baby alive; but
nothing daunted the laughing child; she
grew up in an atmosphere of cloud and,
but she drank in every scarce sunbeam.
Il haven't hope in this wuld but my
babyl' said the emaciated woman to
Psrson Pitcher, on one of his profession
al visits of consolation.
t'If twasn't for her I'd ha' died long
ago; she's turned of six now, and it isn't
in natur' l should lire much longer, and
I've got to leave her to Aunt Melindy;
there isn't another Twin soul that's kin
to her and me-"
"Well, well, my friend. try and be
laanSiul Tor that resource. The Lord is
good to the fatherless; little Hope will
be prospered no doubt. You must have
faith. Yes, yes; according to your faith
it shall be.
All this fell like hollow sounds on the
sick woman's ear; she was worn and
anxious to the last degree; her faith had
failed her, for the flesh was exceedingly
weak; she made no assent to the Parsons
official remarks; few slow tears trickled
out of her eyes and sallow despair in
vaded her tired face, but just then Hopes
clear laugh came in through the window,
and she smiled.
Parson Pitcher was at loss what to
do. so he took up his hat and came and
said good bye.
''Be'n to see Mis- Ames, heve yeln
asked Deacon Tucker, whom he met as
he turned from the green yard where
Hope was building an oven of stones and
mud, with shouts of laughter every time
the edifce fell TO the ground.
"Hope you found her spiritual state
satisfact'ryw
''Well, Deacon, she is in straits, no
doubt; yes, in straits; she is in the
depths, the spirit may be willing. 1
can't say but the flesh is weak, exceed.
ing weak. 1 do not think she is struck
with death, however, and she will be
more leconclled in time; the Lord doth
not give US dying grace to live by. I
trust she will be led through the valley
in peace"
Parson Pitcher was right. Almost four
years went by before Mrs. Ames did die;
years when she seemed to live by pure
force Of will, and her chiefhelp was Hopes
unfailing gayety and sweetness.
"Her pa hadn't any wildly goods to
leave her, " said the anxious mother to
Mrs. Tucker, who had called to bring
her some blue mango and lemon jell F"
"No, Charley, hadn't cent, and this
house ism much; it's mine, but I've had
10 raise money ont but he left Hope his
OWN sunshiney natur' and that's with
everything to her; she'll always see the
bright side. Myl don't l remember
when he was fetched in ali broke up after
that scaffoldin' Civ way; how he was
whiteT'n writin' paper, but he looked
right up in my face and smiled as pleas
ant; he died smilin', and Hope is
'xactly ike him."
s.Well, Mrs. Ames, it's a proper good
thing that kind of a disposition; We know
what Scripturs say-'A merry heart doeth
good like a medicine; and tits SO. Ell
she'd been a peaked, pinin', whinin' child
Ike Ms Larabee's Juliet, don't know
what you would have done"
eYes, I've got deal to be thankful
for; she'll get along a sight better with
out me when she has that sort o. spirit.
I'm afraid she'll need it all to Melindy's.n
But tears and grief overlook Hope one
dav, as those hunters of men overtake us
all sooner or later; she cried herself i'll
when her mother left her forever, and
she knew that the dear tender face would
never greet her again.
Still her indomitable courage and
sweetness helped her, and when her
clothes were packed in the old hair
trunk, and all the furniture that would
sell sent to its various purchasers, when
the house was desolate to her eyes, and
she was Just about to pull herself up into
Deacon fuckers old wagon, she turned
to say one more good bye to Mrs.
Tucker, with as bright a smile on her
rosy, dimpling face as had ever shone
on her dear, lost mother.
''Keep up your heart, dearl" cackled
the kindly old woman. Remember me
to Melindy; dassay you'll be a real com
fort to her."
'I'Il try" said Hope, with gay little
laugh.
1t was long journey that brought
this small maiden at last to Aunt Mel |
indy, and her welcome was vague
enough; she had not been expected till |
the next day, and she opened the
kitchen door on a most lugubrious
twain. A melancholy woman sat at the |
north window leaning her head on her |
rough, bony hand with an expression of |
distress aud disgust all over her |
Brinkied face; beside her, on an up- |
turned butter tub, sat an equaify -forlorn- I
child leaning against her mother, who
took no notice Of her, though the poor
little hand feebly grasped her dress as
if TO call her attention, and the great
sorrowful light eyes, under neglected |
fringe Of tan-colored hair, seemed to
implore one look or word of kindness.
Hope stopped on the door-sill. Could !
this be Aunt Melindal She had always
been spoken of as an old maid living by |
herself. Who then was this childl
Suddenly door opened and out step
ped thin, wiry, sallow female, who did |
not see Hope, but proceeded at once to
exhort the melancholy woman in the
window.
81 wish't you'd kind of spunk up, !
Mrs. Nichols. This wuld's wuld of |
Fiction, and you've always said twas.
and sort of lotted on it, so to speak, and
now you don't bear up a mite. Why
Who's this7 Who be you, childl' sud
denly catching sight of Hope.
The rosy face laughed all over.
"Well. I'm Hope Ames. l guess
you're Aunt Mclindy, amt your"
81 expect be. Inever did l didn't
think you'd come to-day. Come by the
Meddyhemp's stage, didn't yel Look
a-here Loriny Nichols, here's mate