The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1895-11-30

ton, "and | came down to see if l
could get bucket of water and cup
of milk for the baby"
"Dear me-" said grandma, "it's 60
ing to be pretty chilly night for
baby to be out. Are you moving
far9"
"No. ma'am; we amt got more
than eighty miles to go yet; but |
rekcon we'll have to stop, for one of
our horses is about played out to
night"
Then, by dint of grandma's ques-
tions and kindly interest, he briefly
told their story:
eve used to live up in Elk Coun-
ty, this State. But three years ago
pa took notion we could do better
in Indiana-some folks we knew had
gone out there and done well-so we
sold off our things and moved out
Pa didn't have money to buy farm,
so we rented. The first year we got
along very well; then the bad crops
came and bad luck, and the worst of
all, Milly died." and his lip quivered
at the remembrance. "This spring
pa said if we all lived until after har
vest, we would try to get back to old
Pennsylvania. Soin July we started
but we've had bad luck. Fifty miles
back one of our horses died, and it
took all our money to buy another,
and now the other one we started with
is about tired out"
Ten minutes later we were all
seated around the cozy tea-table, and
telling grandpa and brother Ben of
our unfortunate neighbors.
eyes," said grandpa, 81 shouldn't
be surprised if it was the same load l
saw pass through the village awhile
ago. Their team looked just about
tuckered out. Ijust said to Marshall
as they passed the corner, that there
was another poor fellow tired of the
West, and trying to get back home
again"
Il have mind, said grandma pres
emily, 'to just step over after supper
and see them, and take loaf of bread
and little pat of butter. The boy
said his mother had been sick, and
was just getting better, SO it isn't
likely she has much of an appetite.
Then besides, l am afraid they are
nearly suffering. They are not going
to ask favors till they have to, for
when l gave the boy cup of milk,
he said he was sorry he couldn't pay
for it, but it took the last of their
money to pay for that horse Still,
l think | could take something over
to them without hurting any feel
ings."
Grandma had very tender heart
for any one in need of her help or
sympathy, as l surely had reason to
know. Two years before my mother
had died, leaving myself and two
younger brothers, was fourteen at
that time, Ben two years younger,
and baby Ray only year old. Fa-
Their could not bear the solitude Of
our quiet place; SO after her quiet
form was laid to rest in the village
church yard, and our pretty home
broken up, he went to Pittsburg to
work at his trade, and grandpa and
grandma took we children to the old
homestead, and since then had done
everything in their power to make
up for what we had lost The small
bedroom where little Ray and | slept
opened out of the sitting-room. That
night, after had gone to bed, I could
see grandpa and grandma still sitting
by the open fire, grandpa doing over
his weekly newspaper, and grandma
with her knitting. Presently she
dropped her work, and sat gazing at
the glowing Goals for few minutes
in silence.
81 just can't help thinking about
those poor folks over on the HILL"
she said; "there are five children,
and every one of them barefoot, and
don't suppose Mr.. Lawton has any
idea where their winter shoes are to
come from. Then their mother, poor
thing, looks so pale and weak, and
her eyes frightened up so over my
yellow butter. She said she was so
tired of the corncakes they baked
over the Goals, and that she believed
she could feel we'll again if she had
such bread and butter for while.
And, Benjamin, l couldn't help won
dering as watched them, why it was
that we had so much to make us COM
Portable, while they have SO little;
and was just thinking maybe the
Lord wants us to divide with the