The broad ax., 1896-10-31

Drown-eyed woman wild the red shawl
an me shiny-lookin' hair?"
nao noticed her. II wss she who
eggs.
Wei, then, ma'am. tbs she has the
ra4e trouble all out. The little childher
Isnes the mother Of eight. ma'am-
Always dyin' On her Of a softness Of
eue bones. They do grow bright an
suAip little childher till they raches
lne age of or 6. Then they seem to
melt all away; the little bones of them
eruinDies like bit Of bread between
sour nneers. Now, isn't 1t a hard lot,
'''a am, TO see the little vans that
ousnt oy right to be bright an hearty
uyIn on your hands like that?"
one spoke as IL her own trouble was
only a light one by comparison. She
shook her little old white head and
went on:
mere was little girl, too. stood BY
ana SAID nothin' at all at all. Maybe
| you was afther takin' note Of her
nttie susy Connolly, a brown-haired
little girl wild pale face and red lips.
She's alone in the world. an the villain
she set her heart on left her for q girl
via two cows to her fortune. Now
there's trouble to be givin' away every
thing you had to give an gettin' moth
In at all In return. Isn't that rale
trouble?"
agreed that 1t was. The little old
woman was quite cheerful again,
though her eyes and gestures were dra-
matte as she told Susy's sad love story.
Myself, / do be often wonderin', !"
she went on, Eat the kindness Of the
people. I'm not lost nor lonely among
them, though I've nayther chick nor
child to close my eyes when go. Sure,
the goodness of God is wonderful an
do often be .wonderin' over it why
He should be so good to an old sinner
like me. It's surprisin' how cheerful
go home Of an evenin' when the sun
is gettin' low an the dews Is layin' the
dust in the white roads. do be lis
TENN to the birds singin', and smellin
the sweet grass an flowers, an know
whin get home there'l be bit o. fr'
in the CRATE an cup O. tea brewin'
Then the childher comes to meet me
long way OF. / store an orange or Al
apple or a bit o. brown rock sugar sticl
. in the basket for them, the rogues."
And you find the world good, afte
all?"
Good, acushla? Coed isn't the nam
for 1t. But would you be surprised al
ter all to hear that I'm thinkin' o
LAWN them kind neighbors? Aye, II
lookin' for the time to come! Mayb
I you think me a black-hearted, migrate
full old woman?"
! Her little brown face, finely wrinh
led, wore a mysterious air.
81 am sure you are not ungrateful,
I said.
"No, then I'm not, acushla- 'Twi
be crackia' my heartstrings to lave III
s little house where Pathrick brougf
I me home an where the childher die
y Let alone the kindly faces an II
q obligin' little childher an the dogs Thu
are such friendly poor bastes."
"Then why viii you go?"
(, Because, listen, dear; God has p'
It in my heart that at the last Pat
rick's mind'n come back to him ju
3 Lurnin' up like candle before It go
cat an IN see the sowl in his eyes a
Lerl know me, aye. an love me, ju
once before he goes. But, sure. 'twou
never do for me to be so far away whit
the change might come any mint
I'm goin' to take little job for q
\ doctors wife, TO mind her bits o nj
an ducks. Thin I'll be within ca
\ But here's the station. dear, an G.
bless you. Surely God is very goo
oh. very, very goodr-Pall Mall G
Zette.