The copper country evening news. [volume] (Calumet, Mich.) 18??-1907, 1896-09-12

The clouds were Orfahlug = the Merf
and CLEAN o. sunshine gllded the tai
tower of 81. Johns. Arch shouldered
his broom. and whistled a merry tune
as he took lis way homeNard. His
bright dark eyes sparkled as he thought
how the sight o. his earnings would
cheer his feeble mother. She could
have tea now, with real milk and some
sugar in il. and an orange. too. Only
yesterday she vas wishing she had an
orange
Arch's way led past a horticulturist' S
store, and his eyes wandered longingly
over the display OF flowers in the win
dow. He must have just one wee white
rose. because. only the Sabbath before,
while he sat az his mothers feet. she
had Wept in telling him about the sweet
roses that used 10 grow under the win
dow o. the little country cottage whore
ler happy youth had been spent.
The white rose would be like bring
ing back 10 her ever so little bit OF
the happy past p could not cost much.
and Arch felt wealthy as g prince He
stepped into the store and asked the
price o. a white rose. The clerk an
swered him roughly.
Get ont OF the store. Won young ras-
cal. You want 10 steal something
Il am not thief. sir" said the boy
proudly bis sallow cheeks crimsoning
holly. Il want q rose for my mother.
guess can pay for it,
TITS half a dollar. 81 you want IT,
said the man saeeringly. show your
money. or take yourself of this min
uter
Arch's countenance fell He had not
half a dollar in all. He turned sadly
away. his head dropping his lip Quiv-
ering. Oh. how very hard il was 70
he poor, he thought. looking env!ousiy
at the costly carriage with pair OF
splendid grays, standing before the
door.
stop, little boy" said a sweet voice
from somewhere among the roses and
heliotropes rs your mother sick?'
Arch renewed his cap-Some Unborn
spirit OF courtesy prompting him 20 be
reverent toward the glorious vision
which burst upon him. For a moment
he thought be saw an angel. and al
most expected that she would unfold
her silvery wings. and vanish in a gold
On cloud from his sight. But after the
FIRST glance he saw that she was little
girl about his own age-cisht or nine
years old, perhaps yellow curls
deep hazel eyes. a mouth like O rosebud.
and a blue silk frock. She repeated the
question:
Is your mother sick, little boy?'
NO, she Is not sick. for she always
sits up, ana sews. But she is not
strong. and her cheeks never have any
color in them, like yours.
And does she love flowers"
Yes. she loves them dearly Shc
kisses them always. when She has any.
And that's not often
Does She? That's nice Just like
do" said the little girl IN pleased
voice. Mr. Burns to the grug
clerk-"hore Is dollar Give me some
real nice roses. and two or three sweet
pinks The lady shall have some flow
ers. Tell her I sent them"
"Who shall ] say sent them %"
"Margie Harrison. VIII she know
me, think?'
Il guess not. But it's all the same.
shall tell her YOU arc one Of the angels.
any way. she knows about them, for
she's told me ever so much about them. "
The little girl laughed and gave him
the flowers.
Don't soil them with your grimy
hands, she said a little saucily. and
when you get home-let's see, what's
your Nance
Archer Treylyn."
Why, what a nice name, Just like
names in story book ! know some
elegant people by the name Of Trevlyn.
But they live in a big house and have
flowers enough of their own. SO they
can't be your folks can they"
NO, they're not my folks" replied
the boy with touch of bitterness in his .
voice.
Well Archer when you get home.
you wash your face. do It's so dirty" I.
The boy flushed holly. II one Of his .
companions had said that to him. he .
would have knocked him down instant /
~. But he forgaye everything this lit
tie girl said, because she was so beau I
tiful and kind
II am a street sweeper. miss"
"Oh, that accounts for it, then. It's /
very muddy today. and you must he |
tired. Hark! there's Florinc calling me. ,
Good-by, Archer"
She vanished. and moment later
the boy say her disappear within the
glittering carriage. which, loaded down
with fragrant blossoms. was driven
slowly away. lie stood a little while
looking after IL, then, pulling his cap
down over his eyes, and grasping the
stems Of her flowers tightly in his
little purple hand. he started home.
Home, II could hardly be called so.
and yet Il was home TO Archer. His
mother was there-the dear mother
who was all the world 10 him. II was
a poor part of the city--an old. tumble
down wooden house. swarming with
tenants. teeming with misery, filth and
crime.
Up a crazy flight Of steps, and turn
ing to the right, Arch saw that the door
OF his mothers room was half open. and
the storm had beaten in on the hoor
IL was all damp and dismal. and such
an indescrihable air Of desolation over
everything, Arcn's heart beat little
slower as went In. His mother sal
in an arm chair by the window, an
uncovered box In her lap. and a min
iature lOcket clasped in her hand.
ooh, mother! mother dearest| cried