The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1892-06-19

A<&&@ sary to cross u
great many crooked streets, turn q
great many sharp corners and thread
great many narrow alleys before one
came at last to the narrowest and
drcaricst one of all, Sheas alley. Yet
1t was really worth the trouble and in
convenience, for here, up two flights,
i'll the shabbiest house of all the many
shabby houses in the place one would
sec very curious sight-a little girl
who in all her life had never seen n
blade of grass growing, or even the
humblcst little wayside flower pushing
its head through the dark earth for
peep at the sun. AS for whole mead
ow full of green waving things, noisy
with the song of birds and the hum of
bees, why. if you had told Liz that such
strange place really existed she would
not have. believed you. For Liz was
cynical; she regarded most people land
their stories too) with distrust, and the
more pleasing the tale the more salts
fled was she that it was pure fabrica-
ton.
Poor little Liz! She had hump
upon her back and a crutch under her
arm, and all the world seemed made
wrong, since shewas. For Liz was not
in the least like the sanity little crea-
lures in the good story books. She was
instead real little girl who lived in
Shea's alley (wherein no saint ever
dwclt), and she tried no moro to be
good and meek than she tried to be
happy and comfortable. AS for the
crutch it served a variety of purposes.
Sometimes when she grew very angry
she threw it at people, and, in turn, it
often fell upon her own dcfensclcss
shoulders. 1t enabled her, however,
to crawl downstairs into the alleyway
of hot day. On such occasions she
found there a swarm of ragged children
who screamed and fought with each
other for amusement. Liz did not
scream, but with her trusty crutch she
felt ready for any assailant. Rarely
did she venture further than the end of
the lane. What was the use? Beyond
was only another Shea's alley, longer
and broader, perhaps, but not other
wise more attractive.
Liz had n sister, who would Some
times, upon a hot Sunday, don lTSr
best dress, if she happened to have one,
and go away to the park. But the
park was three miles distant, and it
cost, moreover, a matter of five cents to
reach it, so Liz had never been taken
there. Who could be troubled with n
crippled sister when the crowd was SO
great that it was only by bold elbowing
and pushing that one could reach tho
car mt all. No one expected Liz to even
desire to go; but one day her sister
brought home bunch of daisies and
from that moment great longing filled
the chlld's heart. If only she might see
the wonderful place in which these gay
flowers grew. What could it be like.
For many days she wondered and won
dered, and one night when Nancy, her
sister, came home from work she called
out suddenly:
"Are there many of these near the
park?"
MANY of what?" said Nancy, Grossly,
for she was very hot and tired.
'Many of Them" pointing to a
carefully preserved, still stood straight
and prim, their golden disks making a
gay spot of color ir the dingy room.
"Oh, miles of 'em!" responded Nancy,
largely and grandly, her tired face
frightening unconsciorsly as she
thought of the broad field wherein, I'M
hindercd by vigilant policemen, she had
roamcd knee deep in grasses to pluck
the kindly flower that did not scorn to
grow in humble places and for humble
people.
Miles of them! Poor, astonished Liz
could say no more, but thenceforth the
strange longing born SO recently in her
heart grew and grew, until it threat
ened to overcome her with it's intensity.
Of old, angels were supposed to be
the fitting bearers Of joyful tidings,
but in these degenerate days our an
gclic visitors are wont to cothe them
selves in divers unromantic forms. And
thus it fell out that it was policeman,
stout. red-faced and grim, who brought
the good news to Liz. 1t was sitting
day. The August sun sent its malig-
nant rays triumphantly into the city
streets, sure of conquest Horses
dropped and fell beneath them. Trav-
elers. in despair. sought shady corners
in which to mop their heated brows.
The pavements were on fire, the dusty
streets seemed scorched and shrivelcd.
The whole great city, indeed, painted
and gaspcd for breath. In Shea's alley
the entire population had turned in
vain hope of comfort to the street
Women with white-faced babies
crowded the doorsteps, while the chill
dren Gisported themselves languidly in