Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1900-08-09

IVI fat and forty" and as she was
wont to say of herself-with no nom
n about her. She was in easy cir
cumstances, was very k~ind-hearted,
and had a passion for helping other
people, passion which, as she had
no children, she had ample leisure to
indulge.
One bright spring morning, Mrs.
Bolton set out On her daily rounds of
Kindness. First on her path came the
cottage of old Miss Martha Fairchild,
a gentlewoman in reduced circum-
stances, whose hereditary tastes had
chung to her through dark days and
biting poverty.
What if the china ornaments on
Miss Martha's mantelpiece were COM
mon, and the fancy-work triies were
faded? To Miss Martha each was in
vested with a radiance of it's own
h lingering reflection of happier
days. Collectively, they might have
been considered as representing Miss
Martha S share of the worlds refine
ment and taste-the pictures and stat
nary which, had she been wealthy and
literally educated, would have
adorned her luxurious apartments.
Miss Martha had opened the doors
and windows to let in the fresh spring
air. and was moving gently about the
room, busting her art-treasures and
grooming some old, forgotten love-
song. At the sound CT Mrs. Bottoms
loud, decided voice, she started like a
guilty thing. and nearly dropped the
little gilt china box from which she
was so tenderly removing the dust.
"Tidying up, hey, Miss Martha?
That's right! Now, see here-I
haven't much to do this morning; sup
pose l give this room a thorough
cleaning for you? Wouldn't you like
that?-it will save your poor back, you
know"
In vain did Miss Martha protest that
the room was clean, and that she
swept and busted it every day. Mrs.
Bolton merely assured her hat she
Ibid not mind it in the least and
went on piling up the fire with Miss
Martha's carefully boarded kind
ling" Then she nlled the kettle and
put it on, leaving a big splash of water
on the clean hearth.
"By-the-Dye, Miss Martha" she re-
marked as she turned away from the
my t1hNN- II NOCS ICui u
to hear people singing at their work;
but don't you think that at your age
you ought to be singing something
different from those light and trif1ing
songs? a hymn now. or one of the
psalms, would be so much more suit
able"
The guilty blood famed up into Miss
Martha's withered cheeks. The spring
morning had carried her back to the
one short period in her life when she
had seemed to stand on the threshold
of a glorious happiness, and the old
ong had risen to her lips now as ii
had done then. She hardly knew
what she had been singing; but she
felt that she must in some way have
drawn back the veil from the sacred
picture that had so long hung
shrouded in her heart.
Fortunately. there was no need for
her to answer, for Mrs. Bolton forth
with seized the broom, chased the as
tonished cat out of the cushioned arm
chair, and proceeded to sweep and
dust and beat and bang until Miss
Martha's poor head swan. She made
fresh rents in the precious old chintz
curtains, and tore off from the car
pet a handful of ~tatters which. being
far beyond the illustrations of needle
and thread, were every morning laid
deftly back in place by Miss Martha's
patient fingers. Next, she brought a
bowl of hot water, in which to scrub
the host of china knickknacks; and
Miss Martha's heart sent up a silent
hymn of thanksgiving when she was
given the towel and allowed to dry
them herself. Poor Miss Martha held
her breath when the little china box
went down into the bowl; she shivered
as the Praying. Samuel took his
plunge; and she gave a great sigh of
relief as she returned the last china
dog in safety to its place.
Then Mrs. Bolton turned to the ar
ticles hanging on the walls. The
sampler fortunately for it, was
framed; put OF each slde of the Chin
ney hung a trif1e or two made of per-
forated paper. Miss Martha had never
known what use these were intended
for; but, all the same, they were the
pride of her heart-they were so
tasty" On these Mrs. Bolton laid sud
den han DIS.
81 never could see why you keep these
f4Ged Things dnSlnS up, she re-
marked. "They are nothing but dust
trapsi Don't you think they had bet
ter go into the fire?"
"Oh, don'ti" cried Miss Martha, pite-
ously; please don'ti"
But it was too late; they were
already curling up in the flames.
81 think the room looks very NICE
remarked Mrs. Bolton, complacently,
as she tied on her bonnet. Now, be
sure to let me know when you want
help again."
Miss Martha thanked her feebly,
while the tears kept dropping on the
package of choice Hyson tea which
Mrs. Bolton had laid on the table. And
when Mrs. Bolton was fairly gone, and
Puss came peeping cautiously in and
sprang into her mistress lap with an
afectionate NEW, Miss Martha cIasped
this sympathetic friend to her heart
and cried bitterly.
But Miss Bolton went on her way re-
ioicing. The path to the village lay
through a tiny bit of woods, where the
ground sloped away to a little hollow.
The spring sunshine lay on everything
-on the young leaves, on the rocks be-
side the path, On the little green things
pushing their heads up from under last
years fallen leaves. The birds sang
ravIy. the hum Of bees came from the