The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1896-06-20


some sell thread and needles; others,
novelties of various kinds. One
young woman prints poems or de-
tached, beautiful thoughts in a book
or magazine, which one may wish for
a scrap book, separately. The work
is strictly undenominational, and
members are forbidden to urge upon
others in the society their special or
peculiar beliefs. There are the
usual officers, and heads of depart
ments, for men, and boys, women and
children: librarian and wheel-chair
committee"
"How can they get books7" Ger
aldine asked.
by mail; and wheel-chairs are
first donated to the society by gener-
Gus friends, or are memorial offerings
of some dear son or daughter or
loved friend, and afterward loaned to
invalids. And the stories these
wheel-chairs could tell! Miss Alcott
made her omnibus talk, and what a
touching simple tale it told! Some
body could make these chairs talk
equally well. One invalid wrote that
she hadn't been to an intimate
friends for many long years, until
her wheel chair arrived. Then, one
sunny, charming day, she came roll
ing along close up to her friends low
window, where they chatted
away as if they were girls once
more"
"Tell me more, Aunt Hilda," cried
Geraldine. 81 know you can if you
will, all about real people"
There are too many" Aunt Hilda
said, shaking her head. 81 should
have to keep you weeks, and then
what would your mother say? There
is one respectable, intelligent woman
who finally had to be sent to county
workhouse. Her few near relatives
were poor and had large families of
their own, and, sick, helpless, bedrid-
den, she lies in that place year after
year. She writes to me:
81 honestly don't know what I'd do
without the Shut-in Society. l get
so discouraged and the heart gone
out of me, in this place, and then
come letters and papers, and little
membranes through the mail, and
l think the world isn't all dark and
forgetful, after all. But, o, my dear,
an infrmary is bad place for a de-
cent body, and a terrible place for a
suffering creature
"She cannot speak, but has to write
on slate, and has to be turned on
her face to write to me-"
"Dear met" said Geraldine quickly;
land l hate to write letters when am
we'll and strong. That's it, Aunt
Hilda; you see l never could belong
to such society, for l can't bear to
write letters" And Geraldine threw
herself back in her chair with an air
of settling the whole question.
ga pure matter of habit" Aunt
Hilda said. I've known girls who
hated it as much as you, but they
found they could do it quite easily.
Very few people love to write letters,
especially to strangers; but when
they actually begin charming trans
position takes place. They find they
receive as we'll as give; and one be-
comes so interested in these letter
friends. There was that devoted
pair of married lovers. The husband
suddenly became a perfect invalid,
and how his wife cared for him and
made his days full of sunshine! He
wrote: Il think these good women
who have such cripples of men to
care for deserve pension In speak
ing of them, one says: we can mag
inc smiles and jokes passing between
this couple Their life, although not
what they would have chosen, is made
bright by their brave spirits. Their
environment has not been able to
conquer them. To one this has been
physical suffering, to the other the
burden of inability to relieve loved
one, but like Christian in the Valley
of the Shadow of Death, they are smil-
ing as they pass through trials. HUI
NOR" Aunt Hilda went ON thought
fully, sis wonderful helper to sick
people. One lady, great sufferer,
made apple tree Brownies and sent
them in many directions, to friends
They are really penwipers. Then
there is quiet little woman in an
Ohio town who, though confined to
her bed, and frail of body, works con-
stantly to help and reclaim those
who have fallen into crime and dis
honor. Many young man has been
snatched from life of degradation