Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-12-09

| zled the child, and the answer that ii ''covered the opening left in the brick work, so that straw could be thrust uI the chimney and lighted to burn it out without removing the stove." conveyed no meaning to her perplexed mind. In her eyes the queer square of iron covered the entrance to some enchant- ed region where little, girls must neces. sarily delight to go.
 Accordingly, with all her little strength, she tugged away at the bar. rier. She saw an irregular opening and caught a gleam of sunlight filter ing down the hue. She sought to look further; but the iron was toe heavy, and fell from the tiny fingers upon the tiny toes with crushing weight. The stately old grandfather raised the iron and took the silent child upon his knee. Kissing her, he said, kindly:
 ''It must have hurt you very much, my pet"
 The little face was, all a-quiver with pain, tears stood in the brave, brown eyes, and the words. faltered as they came:
 1T dess it's on'y for little w'ile.'
 That's right, darling" said the child's mother, gently removing shoe and stocking from the little foot, now found to have been seriously hurt; that's right! Mothers brave little girl knows that,crying only makes the hurt last longer"
 The poor baby could not keep the tears from running down her little cheeks, pale from the suffering; but she did refrain from making the least out cry, or even moan.
 After she had been carried away in her mothers arms, to sleep away the exhaustion of pain, her grandfather. with tears of pity and admiration in his eyes, said, emphatically:
 II have always loved my daughter in-law, but never have I admired her so much as to-day. She is teaching her children to be heroesl That child will mako her mark in the world, some day. God bless herl''
 The grandsire re'was right. The child became a woman of marked character and ability. She was but nineteen at the outbreak of our civil war, but such was her ardor and enthusiasm, tenn pered by reason and strengthened by courage, that she was among the first to enter into. hospital service, working until carried off by fever almost at the close of the war.
 This noble woman'slchildish training in habits of endurance would have proved equally useful to her in any vo- cation. There is not "a possible career in which we are not called upon to meet hardships of one sort or another. Has one done ones best, striving hon. orably to deserve only commendation, and then won but blame or ridicule, tho weakness of yielding to mortifca- tion can but render the matter worse. Is one reproved, even harshly, one may mako the admonition fruitful of good results. Sickness, misfortune, pover- ty, disillusion, even undeserved shame and death itself lose half their terrors when bravely faced and endured. In 8 measure this lesson can be taught to the youngest; the oldest cannot afford to cease from learning it. To grow strong by suffering one must have learned to endure hardships with for titude. Suffering of any sort, not so borne, is facilitating, enervating, de- Structive.
 How much of future strength de- bends upon early training in the exer- else of true courage, comparatively few
  seem to remem Der. It is so easy to pity, caress and openly sympathize with a sobbing child; so hard to treat its hurts-whether m oral or physical with touch as firm as tender; being brave, that the child may also be brave. Yet it is as undoubtedly duty to teach fortitude as it is to teach truth l fitness. If tho mother whose opinions have been quoted be correct in her views, truthfulness itself is largely de- pendent upon courage. A naturally 1 timid person may, indeed, be also na- lively honest; yet it seems almost inn possible for such person to retain ab- solute honesty of word and act; and the | most unhappy of mortals are those | who have not the courage to support | the real truthfulness of their natures. | Helen Evertson Smith, in N. Y. Inde- | pendent