Morning journal and courier., 1894-02-03
If bobbies aneak this camp about,
 The stones will rattle from the ledge, An heAds will bfeAk, my word pledge Nv word I pledge my word I pleSiRel

An u08Qo VIII Uk968, WOfQ ploQR6-
 Myword pledge, my word pledgel or again that roaring gipsy tinksr's song I work in brass and dicker too,
 With canny ysk leyO and busy va.tie thand);
 scnor. chor!" 6thieD they cry, and strikemes | But when the rat snishto murks o'er1he blue. I'll have caunie lhen1, maybe, two,
 An then the tent an my oNn iaunio (wife)!- | while bslated Dutch farmers drowsily re turning to the outlying farms, startled st | the unsesmly elamor and recalling the old | en hobgoblin fevelriea of the Wissahickon glen, would lash their stocky horses into ambling speed until their upland homes were safely gained.
 As the winter closed in upon the city quest began to wans from her darksning mind and lessening powers. Days would slapse without Baba and B, zs being seen at the market; and even when they came tho women noticed that old Sy'ra seldom spoke. Then they would settle her down in corner whore the biting wind could not reach her; gather sacks and horse rugs about her; sell the trifes which she brought; and az the bustle of the day was done, press the little money they had gained Into her withered hand and start her homeward with sharp orders to Bozs to mind his mistress closely; the WAAA0 pUS1AuH pk00AAuSo to bu0 WE0CA00 old life to bide at home until the summer came and with 1t, they would kindly whis- per in her eager ear, Griselda and the flow CTS. One bitter November evening found the two old pilgrims, while on their home ward way from the market, standing gazing into the window of basement cottage, whose little brass door-plate bore
 the legend 'City Missionary" alongside | tumble-down, desolsts mission chapel in l the oldest quarter of the city. A com fortsble looking man sat inside of the cot tage window munching an apple and con- l tentedly hummiDg a psalm. Accustomed l as he was to contact with every pitiable l form and expression of forlorn human life, l the intensity of the old womsn's gags dis turbed him. He stepped to the door and
 asked her kindly enough, but in that per functory way long association with the 1 low]y often gives.
 | "Well, mother, what's wantin'?"
 "I jess wants Griselds."
 1 The missionary put hts head inside the
 door and carried on 8 brief conversation with aquerulous tired voice; perhaps the ] voice of wife who longed more for .
 peaceful home on earth than the promise
 of palm shaded palaces beyond the horizon
 of human needs.
 ''Never but one Grisefda known about
 here," he at last answered. Better run
 home, mother. Shouldn't be out, Bad
 night coming on sure. Oar Griselda was
 on the books long time ago. Died nigh
 on the strong Arm to the last. Hope you
 lean on the strong Arm, too, mother? But | our Griselds was white;" he concluded
 shiveringly, getting inside the door, and
 glancing at the wriskled, tawny face above
 hia. "Oouldn't been yours. Run along
 home, now; there's good woman. Good
 night"
 He could not have sean the tottering hu-
 man clutch at the area railing for support,
 whine, or he would not have so soon re-
 sumed his apple and his psalm; but the
 lights that were beginning to twinkle in
 rows upon the city streets whirled round
 and round her as she staggered away,
 moaning and muttering;
 "No, no, no!-the one as died wus white;
 was Gorgio, 1Bozs! Couldn't @ been our
 Griselds, Boze; couldn't been ours; no,
 no, mol"
 So she muttered on while Bozs comforted
 as best he could, as they trudged and tot.
 trade; out past the brightenipg regions of
 home; out along the wide, white country.
 ward road, now whiter still for the gently
 falling snow.
 They cou almost see the light Ephe al
 ways placed in their window against thei, . coming when they had reached the erea cemetery along the Schuylkill, ,1on the cit.
 side of the Wissshickon. It's iron gatel
 had been heedlessly left sjar. Clutchinf one with either skinny hand, Baba sy'r' | peered within. Her Gipsy nature, eve abhorrent of the place of graves, mus surely have met with some marvelou i. transformation now. Bozs tugged at he gown and whined piteously for her t. !, come away; but Babs Sy'ra only leane, . forward and for ward gazing into tn :, white, huahed forest of beadstones un : heediDgly. Wondrous the life myster 2 that ever calls us to our owpl Wondrou and insorutable that higher mystery whic :, in an instant makes clear and true snt
 Light inehablel Wondrous still the calm the rest, the gentle nature-call which lure'
 this broken life from the highway amoni the white and peaceful gravel
 't For suddenly with cry of unutterabl
 delight Baba Sy'ra's quest took heal y again. Springine within the enclosure at !, bound, her skirts dragging after her tn !. faithful dog, the old woman closed tn 's !. gates as if with the joyous strength c A youth; and as the clsng of the iron shu behind the brave old gipsy mother hear | ,e ,e face of radiant pilgrim come again to oil '' home scenes, to fields of green and to bal f. bling streams, and wandered on and 0 - :. beneath the falling snow.
 :, Wild was that early winter night aroun a the Wissshickon glen. The light that Eph n had set in the little cottage window burne brave]y until morn. When they found ol ,t Bsba Sy'ra, her quest was ended. She Ia 8 with peaceful face upon little mound C 't earth in the great cemetery beside tn 'e broad Sehuylkill half shrouded with tn y driven snow; and Bczs, stark and cold be e side, had one loving paw across her shri, n eled neck, as if to give the dead thing su, ;s cor to the last. As they brushed the sno, 70 from the tiny headstone where they lay j. those of the Gipsies who could read at a } again read what Ephs had read thousan l. times with breaking heart before-thre 1T simple lines that disclosed the sublimity ( 't their own tender forbearance and told th 't piteous hopelessness of the quest now don,
 GRISELDA.
 lt Born in Darkness