The people's journal. (Pickens, S.C.) 1891-1903, 1895-12-12
THE PIECE THAT WAS LOST.
BY EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER.

grass was WaltlnR lOr Gn0 SCytnc, DuC
after breakfast Silas Rogers took
down the old Bible that has been his
mothers daily companion for eighty
years. and they set rcverently down to
worship. The reading was that ten
der lesson of tho wandering sheep,
and tho lost piece Of silver, and ended
with tho Heavenly rejoicing tower
one sinner that repentcth," and then,
after an earnestly though homcly
prayer, they werc ready for work.
Abner, the hired man, and Reuben,
the boy, as they started out of the
house, almost stumbled over q woman
sitting in the doorway, absorbed in
thought. Silas looked at her, but did
not stay to question her. And when
they were gone, she rose abruptly, and
said, "Will you give me some break
fast ?"
Mrs. Rogers looked at her. She
was q tall and not uncomcly woman Of
about thirty, but with something un-
deiinably evil about her face. The
hard mouth, the bold, defiant eyes,
repelled her, yet it seemed as if any
instant they might break into scorn-
full tears.
"Who arc you ?" asked the good
wife coming nearer, with u pan OF
bread in her hand. Again the face
darkened and lightcncd, grew hard and
yielding, with tho hidden declaration,
i" l am tho piece that was lost
Martha Rogers had not " particle Of
poetry in her nature, but she had the
most profound reverence for the
Scripture; therefore the words both
puzzled and shocked her. But she
was not the woman to refuse bread to
tho hungry, so she placed food upon
tho table, and motiOncd the woman to
the chair saying, Set up and cAt.'
All the time tho woman was eating
and she did not hlstcn- her eyes
followed the mistress and Ictty, the,
bright Young daughter, until Martha
Rogers grew nervous, and sent llctty
to red up the chambers"
"Will you give me work to do ?'
she demanded rather than asked.
"Who are you :" asked Mrs. Rogers
again, simply to gain time.
81 thought you knew. am MolI
Pritchctt; they have turned me out Of
yuhOuso-burncd it over my head
and her eyes grew lurid.
"What can you do :" asked Mrs.
Rogers.
"Anything that u woman can Go or
man either. | can work in the iicltl
with the best Of them ! have done it
many II time; but should like to do
what-to be like other womcn.'
"Arc you Il good woman ~
The question came straight and
strong, without any faltcrinG. She
had heard Of this Moll Pritchctt, :,
woman who lived alone in an old tum-
bledOwn hut below the suwmill, and
won meagre living by weaving rag
carpets, picking berries for sale, and
it. was suspected, in less reputable
ways; but Martha Rogers took nc
stock in the idle rumors. If she had
not divine cOmpassiOn, she had
something very like divine JUSTICE
which is altosethor a swcctcr thing i,
it's remembering Of our frame thar
the tender mcrcics of the wicked"
Theiwoman looked at her curiOusly-
at first with a mocking smile. then with
q Sullcn and at last with Il defiant OK.
preston.
"ls it likely ," she said licrcclv
" a good woman How should bc !;
good woman? | tell you | am the
piece that was lost, ard nobody cvc,
locked f@" NO. lf WAS :. gHnl, worun
do you suppose | should be where | b,
only twcnty-cight years old, wcl
and hearty and every door in tn,
world shut in my face? | tell You til,
man that wrote that story didn't know
women they don't hunt for that piccc
that's lost; they Just let it go There's
enough Of 'cm that don't get lost"
Poor Martha Rogers was s0rcly per-
picked, all the more that her way had
lain so smooth and plain before her
that she might have walked in it
blindfoldcd. II this is Il lost piece of
silver it was not she who lost it but
what If it were tho Masters, precious
to His heart and II careless hand had
dropped it., and left it to lie in the
dust? And what if He badc her to
seek it, and find it for Him ? Should
she dare refuse? On this worry day,
when she needed so surely the help
which she had SO looked for in vain,
had not this woman been sent to her
very door, and was it not Il plain lead
ing Of Providence 1t is IL blessed
thing for us that we are driven to act
first and thcorizc aiterwnrd, oven
though the aftcrthought sometimes
brings repentance. The bread was
ready for tho oven, and tho wood box
empty.
"You may fetch in some wood, V
said Martha Rogers, and the woman
promptly Oboycd, filled the box with
one load OF her sincwy arms, and then
stood humbly waiting. Hctty came
into the kitchen, and began to clear
up inc IaOlC; Dut ncf lnOtnCr SAD ::
Go upstairs and fetch big apron
Nand one Of our sweeping cups: and
then you may go at your sowing, and
see If you can finish up your dress"
Away went Hctty. her light heart
bounding with the unexpected release:
and the mother turned again TO to the
woman, furnished hrr with Il coarse
towel, and scrt her to the wash house
for II thorough puritication. Half an
hour afterwards, with nor hair hidden
in the muslin cap. her whole figure
envclOpcd in the clean calico apron, "a
comcly woman was silently engaged in
household tasks, doing her work with
such rapidity and skill that the criti-
cal housewife drnw Il sigh OF relief.
There's a handful of towels and
coarse clothes left from the ironing.
You might put the irons on Mary, and
emooth 'em out
She turned q startled face upon her.
and then went quickly for the clothes.
but'somcthing-was it a tear ?-rollcd
down the swarthy checks, mingling
with the bright drops she sprink led
over them. When had she ever heard