The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1896-01-16
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
RE Ell PING THE HARVEST. /
By Helen Forest Graves.
Observation-Disclosures

L BY Helen Forest Graves.
HNZXxXXxZXZXXXxx
81 do wish, little girls, you would
keep quiet for two consecutive min
utes.
The Rev. Mr.. Brewsford was sitting
at his study table, surrounded by an
Stlqu boxing Greek testaments, lexi-
cons and manuscript folios, trying to
reason his way through a knotty point
OF church doctrine, while, in the wide
seat Of the low window beyond, just
on level with the street. two little
girls of eight and ten were curled up
like plump little kittens Of larger
growth, chattering on the respective
merits of colony of staring dolls
Meta Brewsford, the younger, was as
fair as spring anemone, with floating
curls Of silky gold, and blue, glittering
eyes; while her cousin, Eloise, was
darker and more gipsey-like in her
childish beauty, given, moreover to
laying down the law to Meta, and TAX
ing every possible advantage of her
two years Of seniority.
'sYou see, Meta" she gravely com
menced, Il am older than you, and -
flush wild your clatterin', childer!''
corrected Bridget, who had just come
in to set the table for lunch, for it was
in the sunny dining room where Mr.
BrewsfoEd loved to study, and his little
people to play, since Mrs. BreWsford's
death had somehow thrown a gloom
over the rest Of the house. s'Sorra a
bit your poor papa can write an you
a-buzzin' away there like a hive o. bees
in swar1nin' time
Meta was just looking up to remon-
strate, when a un-browned, swarthy
countenance was fattened against the
plate-glass that divided the room from
the street, and a hoarse voice pleaded:
Please, miss, give a poor boy piece
of breadv'
Meta started back with a little cry as
the big, black eyes, glittering with
restless, uncertain light, met hers-the
eyes Of boy about eleven, whose rags
scarcely chung to his 1.-the, supple figure,
and who balanced basket, with pro-
fessional skill, on one arm.
"Get along wild yez!" said Bridget,
shaking her fist at the apparition on the
other side Of the window, cor I'll call
policeman, that I will!''
But Metals soft little heart relented.
Slipping down from her temporary
throne on the window seat, she ran to-
her fathers side. ..
Papa, it's a poor boy; and he looks
SO hungry; can't I give him a piece of
bread? Say, papa, can I call him in-''
Call him in, indeed!'' echoed Eloise,
haughtily. ''Why, uncle, he's as dirty
as charcoal man; but it's just like
Meta" rs*. z
Mr.. Brewsford, slowly struggling out
of the misty realms Of dead and gone
centuries, looked hopelessly from one to
the other OF. the little speakers.
s'Who is dirty? What is it you want.
Meta ~
And then, reused to sense of what
was transpiring around him, he said:
Certainly, Of course. Open the door,
Bridget, and call the poor boy in
And Johnny Piper, summoned by the
Bridget, skunk into the room
like a young outcast as he was, staring
around him, while Eloise started back,
gathering her dainty silken skirts
around her, as if there We're pollution
In the very air she breathed
Keep away from me, you dirty little
boy! she said, while Meta ran to pile
sundry slices of bread in his basket
Papa, can I give him an apple?' she
pleaded.
Meta, don'tv' warned Eloise. ssThere
are only three red apples for lunch.''
HE can have mine. don't want it,.
would much rather he should eat it.
Here, boy, is red apple, and y
But a shrill outcry from Bridget
checked her in her half uttered speech.
Did yez ever see the likes O. that,
masther, dear? See now, it's the silver
forreck off the table intirely that he's
hidden away under the rags O. him,
and us putin the bread in his mouth,
the ungrateful spalpeen!''
Il told you SOL" complacently enunci-
ated Eloise.
It was true. The Juvenile culprit,
caught in the very act, had no word Of
defense to plead, as he stood with
down-hanging head, while Bridget
hourished aloft the silver fork she had
pulled from one Of his ragged coat
pockets.
Mashter, will call the polfceY' she
demanded, triumphantly.
But Meta began to cry.
Papa! papa! don't send him to 1afl:
he's so little she pleaded.
1T be too good for him, the murti-
herin young thafe O. the world!'' cried
Bridget.
Its just what he deserves said
Eloise
While the boy himself broke into an
unmelodious howl, as he screwed his
dirty knuckles into the sockets OF his
eyes.
'tBoy, come here said Mr.. Brews-
ford, gravely. Why did you steal that
forkY'
Wanted to sell it to Old Joe in Chat
ham street. blubbered the youthful
criminal
What would you have done with the
money!
Bought marbles an taffy.',
How much would he have paid you
for it %
tt,Ten cents. p