The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1909-04-30
BRAVE JANE PERRY
HER LIFE ONE LONG SONG OF
THANKSGIVING.
Story Of Little Woman Whose
Plans and Methods to Defeat Old
Age Were at Once Sane and Odd.
BY Rebecca Harding Davis.

I once met a little woman whose
plan of life and methods to defeat
old age seem to me SO sane and odd
that l will tell you Of her.
She was the widow of an English
physician, left with small means and
and placed one in India, the other
in Melbourne. Her work for them
was done. She was sixty-five. Her
income was small, her lungs were
weak. Most women in such case
would have settled down with drugs
and doctors as their only thought
AMI begun to prepare for the next
world. Not so Jane Perry. She
r'ade her home in a hill town of
r scany. where the air was pure and
Ec9ling, and never thereafter even
lsohtioned her ailments. She al
ready spoke Italian. II have been
Studying languages all my life," she
said; Il want to be able to talk to
all Of my kinsfolk." She had sound,
urDretentious knowledge Of art and
architecture; she eagerly studied the
history of the place, and In six
months there was not a legend nor
a great picture nor bit OF medieval
carving in the old fortress-like pal
aces of the town which she did not
know and love as If she had been
a native. She soon made friends with
the good sisters who nursed the
paupers in the great Spedale or hos
pital; they took comfort in telling
her Of their patients, and she con-
trived to bring to them certain help
full appliances which were in use in
London. One Of the industries of
the town was leather work. She
learned to bind books, to gild and
tool them, and SO was able to send
home beautiful gifts to her friends.
She discovered In one Of the cell
lars where poor folk burrow a Grip
pied girl who made fine lace, and she
found regular sale for 1t in Rome
with an English dealer. She was
in the midst of the silk-raising dis
trict Of Tuscany; in a year she had
studied all the mysteries of the in
dustry, knew the diseases which at
tack the tree and the cocoon and
their remedies. She visited the con-
tadini, or peasants, in their little
farms ,and was counted as their best
friend. Meanwhile, she kept up her
knowledge of affairs abroad, read the
English and French papers daily,
and you may be sure no revolution
could come to the light in Russia,
nor royal wedding be planned in Lon
don, and escape Jane Perry's eye.
Everybody in the strange old medi-
eval town, from the stately Podesta
| (chief magistrate) down to the old
women shrieking and pushing their
carts Of onions and artichokes
through the narrow lanes, knew the
queer little woman with her widows
cap and her kind, homely face and
loved her. She helped everybody, if
but by friendly look. and she never
meddled.
Why" 1 asked her one day,
should you spend so much time in
the study of the present condition of
Italian emigrants? What possible
use can you make of such knowl-
edge?"
She laughed and colored. LAS we
grow near to the end" she said, 1--WE
are afraid to be ignorant of any work
which we may be called to reach a
helping hand. Our time is so short" "
That, 1t seems to me, is the kind
of life which is one long, genuine
thanksgiving. We may never reach
the height of the great Danish Earl
Brithnoll, who, with his last breath
cried out: "God! I thank Thee for
all the joy 1 have had in this good
world!" but we can follow Jane Per
RVS humble methods of praising God
daily.-From ST. NICHOLAS.