The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1893-11-22

IN their cherries, barren home, but |
now they became Jolly, and worked
with smiling alacrlty, telling quaint
storieslmeauwhile to the three young
people who helped while they super
intended. Simon and Sallie went
home every night and came back
every morning for two weeks, and
by the end of that time life had
grown bright to them Three good
meals day, money in their pockets
and good, serviceable clothes had
transformed their world for them,
while kind words and smiles had
warmed their hearts.
AT Mrs. Brocklin's, the house
shone and the grounds glowed with
"green things growing" gracefully.
Over the stone walls beautiful vines
climbed and bloomed. In the front
yard grew the Laurel, the oak, the
beech, and the butternut. Over
the porch the sweet honeysuckle
ran luxuriantly. At last after
months hard work, all was in order.
Sallie had been busy washing one
day and was just going home when
Sadie said to her:
"Where is the nearest church,
Sallle2"
"Dere's log Westinghouse down
to the Cones" answered Sallie,
"but der amt no preachin'."
There ought to be preaching"
Sallie said.
'De folks wouldn't go to hear it
if dear was" SalIie asserted. "You
see, dem mountaineers don't care
for preachin'; dey's broken heart
ed, de ole folks, and de young ones
don't want to boder."
"What makes the old folks brok-
en-hearted?" asked Frances
60 de LAM sakeI Don't you
know, honey? Dey's broken-heart-
ed cause oh de war. Use heard 'em
tell how de bullets whistle past an
kill dere dear ones. 1 know bout
it, too, so does Simon. I used to
feel de earth tremble with de roar
of cannon. Dem war times was
dretful times"
Yes, Frances and Sadie could well |
believe that, for many times their
mother had told them about how
her two loving, noble brothers had |
been cut down in their bright, !
young manhood. But they did not
want to think about the horrors of
war now. They preferred the bless
ings of peace.
They sought out the little log
Westinghouse, and as the door stood |
invitingly open they entered it and |
looked around. 1t had a queer, lit
tie homemade pulpit and comfort
able seats.
els seems too bad to have it de-
serted, remarked Sadie, regretfully.
"Perhsps we can utilize it," sug-
gested Frances, I'VE might have a
Sunday school,"
where are our scholars?"
eve could climb the mountain
and hunt up the children of the
mountaineers."
One day they climbed the noun
tain and carried out the suggestion |
of Frances. The school was started |
and grew. First there were only
children; then their mothers and |
fathers came, and finally their
grandparents, until, once a week,
the little house was full.
Summer had passed away and |
fall had nearly followed, when one
Sunday Mrs. Brocklin arose in the
little Westinghouse and said, with
a trembling voice:
"My friends, you have seen trou-
BILE, we have seen trouble, but the
Lord loves US all. Shall we keep
Thanksgiving together in this little
meeting house2 If ESQ, please arise"
simultaneously the people were on
their feet. Tears rolled down their
cheeks.
Thanksgiving day came and the
mOuntaineers gathered within the
walls of the little church, and held
Thanksgiving services. Their
voices blended in songs of praise
led by Sadie and Frances Brocklin.
After the beautiful service the peo-
pie went home. The mountainous
kept the day as festival for the
first time since the war, spreading
their tables thankfully for the best
they were able to get.
In the family room at the Brock.
Inns happy party gathered. |
Here and there the ministering girls
had singled out those who from sor-
row or suffering specially needed |
their attentions, and had invited |
them to dinner Simon and Sally |
their faces aglow with low waited |