The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1894-12-26

doesna greet an we're mair than
thankful. Amen"
"Gin was your age" the sweet
voice went on gently after a pause, 81
wadna be content no to pray. Hoo can
you expect onything gin we Wilma ask
for it'll
"Who taught your"
"My mither. How can you teach
your BARN gin you dinna ken yourself?
Dinna you desire your BARN 10 ken his
Maker and the word, and the cate
chism?"
"I'll learn from you"
"Aye," with satisfaction, then you
can teach the BARN. Haze you had ither
bairns2"
"Two."
"Deid?"
Yes.n
"Didna they ken their prayers?"
"They died babies"
I" ken the guide God took the bit
things whaur they could be well and
happy, an wadna leave them to be no
taught their prayers an no to respec'
his name. Gin you teach this BARN
guide ways / dootna you'll keen him."
The boy spoke with absolute conf
dence; the woman's face changed mar
velously; she leaned forward eagerly.
Are my babies happy"
"Aye, ave." The sweet voice was
decisive but low. 81 had brither and
a sister who died babies, and my mither
telt me a. about it. Jesus loves the
bairnies, an he carries the babies in
his bosom. There's no cold nor no
heat-no sickness nor no tears-where
r,,u mil 10 1i-xny;th l;tt1a IN
his voice.
Is your mother dead?"
"Aye, she died amaist as soon's we
landed in this kintra. She babe me
never to forget my fathers an my
mither's God-an' / Wilma. An to
pray every day, an l wul. An to LUX
DOT always for chance to tell folk ABBOTT
cor Savior, an hoo he died to save us,
an / wull. An she said God him
sel' wad care for me, an she died"
The boyish voice trembed again.
can yer daddy?"
" He died in Scotland"
" An were we left alone?''
"Aye."
/" i don't call that God takin' good
care of you" The boy seemed mo-
mentarily staggered.
But he did," he answered 81 had
a sair fever an went 10 Draw hospital,
an lived fine an learned god Eng
lish."
"How came We here away?"
"They got me place to work for
gardener. He wanted to go West an
took me. But his wife couldna thole
me. She couldna thole anything her
mon liked, an she wadna gle him ony
peace till he let me gae wi they Bakers
yon; an they were a shiftless lot. 1t
ma ie me sick to see 'em. Gin l hadna
been of an unco thankful deesposition,
an unco weel instructit, ! coudna haze
thankit the guide God for the dirty
messes they cookit. An when came
doom wiz the fever an shakes, you ken
they left me here. l feel better the
night, though l been thinkin' | wad
surely dec"
"God might "a cared for you better
than to drop you out here in this lone
waste, nary house in sight, and chance
to starve come winter"
INA, ma, hoo ken you that?" the
boy rejoined wistfully. "Belike he was
carin' for you. Didna help you with
the bairnp Belize you'll be guide
"Ohldh thC hOO, oil uO DC llhO tIC
Bakers mair, an teach your oairnie
guide ways, an help your mon gar the
LAM gle US great things come winter.
Gin l get on my legs, I'll gar things
grow my ain sell, for l ken hoo. An
I'll help fine, an we'll haze things bet
ter for the bit laddie, for ken hoo. l
ken heap o. things"
The woman's horizon seemed to
widen. Something of the greatness
and calmness of the prairie seemed to
enter into her nature. Something of
the soft, clear light hat flooded the
landscape seemed to be shining dinly
in her own soul-the light of hope and
trust-even the light of Gods love.
And she had her baby sleeping safely
in her arms.
"Wull you love the Lord Chri t wha
died to save you, an wha carries your
wee BARNS in his arms, an love am
serve the guide God who made us a.,
an loves us a., and grieves sair gin we
gang DOR ain miserable gait, no gittln'
the gram good that comes frae serv n
him? Wull you-the noo-for the
bairnie's sake too?" Still the sweetness
OF the boys voice, the insisIent earn
estness of it.
40 yes" she half sobbed, if you'll
teach me.'
"Gin you'll pray aften VII me the
Lord himself wull teach us bath an
gle us the gift o. his Holy Spirit. Sac
I've aye been tet, an my mither
tau ght me DOR Savior's words till ken
the maist o. wha he said himself"
When the dawn came weary horse
man rode slowly alone across the pra-
RE to the house, head down, utterly
discouraged He had dim feeling
that his wife would lose her mind if
the child died-and he knew it was
dead. The herb doctor had been gone
two months. There was no hope for
him. He had no money. He must go
and dig another little grave.
But the boy crawed out to meet him,
and half supporting himself by the side
of the ia led horse, said, with smile
on his thin face: "The guide God has
spared the bairnie's life and its mither's
glad woman. Dnna LUX sac doom
hearted, mon! Pm better myself an
I'll help you fine. ken a. ABBOTT dig
GIN"