Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1914-11-25

LIZ Dtssssies Sxrsly HOOK CT ttlll from
her STORY bunk with ii :sil. aud
- as she lU0ked up she caught the
reflection of her face. in Il MIR.
ror over the riihit aud sighed again.
"Oh. dear: If were only slender
and graceful and Il grown up young
lady or u princess and lived in pal-
ace and had heaps of money and could
carry punches OF flowers to sick pea-
pie But here am. nothing bur Beg
sic Glay-short-. Stout and honely,
with a broad face and Il wide mouth
and not ex:lctiy POOR. but then have
to work r:itiler hard for a litrie girl. and
as Tor che troubles of this world, some
how ! don't feel so badly about them
as ought to. or else the people around
here don't have any to speak Of
Nows your ch;;nee.' said a little
squeaking voice. Where did il cone
FROM! There WIS nothing in sight bur
a heap OF pumpkins on a beard just
outside the window and Il little eolnred
gill passing the garden fence. scantiiy
clad and shiNering in the cold Noyem-
/ Der sunshine. All that Bessie knew OF
{ her was that her name was Poppy.
ami she belonged to a family that were
very shiftless. it appeared, from tlleii,
unwillingness TO work and their igno-
rant ways of doing the little they
could do.
But II could not be this little Girl
/ who spoke. She WIS hurrying on with
OUT turning glance toward the house.
eager, no doubt, to reach her miserable
| shelter from the cold
Bessiesss curiosity was fully aroused
Size went out and stood upon the door
step. The, colored child was out OF
sight, and everything WAS still but
the wind. and that hardly whispered
through the leafiesss boughs OF the pesi
trees. But there was the voice. close
tor her now. Help me down.. it said
And Bessieis mouth opened wider than
i, ever as she saw the topmost pumpkin
without aid of hands She took hole
of itsgstem, and. although it was. one OIL
i the heaviest OF the lor, she scarcely fell
its weight at all.
Garry me in.' said the voice agar
pantinglg
i Bessie had not believed; her own ear.
!, until now, A pumpkin talking. Tha
| was more wonderful than Aesop's fa
bies, truly. But why shouldn t it speai
i rs we'll as the brambes and oak Tree.
and brass kettles2 So she turned til,
great thing over upon it's side and roll
/, ell it, or, rather, let it roll itself, up th,
steps into the Kitchen.
Cock me,' said the little. painting
! squeakinS voice again Cook me-
Just then her mother came in Moth
er, may m;tlSe some pumpkin pies 2
| said Bessie.
We'll, | dent care,' was the answe
! of the busy woman None of us seem
10 be SO Very fond of them, bur you Gu
make them ii you'll only promise to ge
somebody to eat Them
i But the pumpkin began to squeak i'm
patiently: Cut NE upi Cut me up,'
1 And Bessie obeyed without more ado
I Determined to have her pies as nice Al
they coul,i be made. she poured out he
milk, stirred in spice and sweetenin:
and made the crust light. wendern;
while. she rolled it out who would ell
! the pies when they We're done.
But the pumpkin told her as it boile,
in the kettle--no longer with that low
squeak, but with a deep. musical rum
Die. us it aughing with joy over it
own fate Black PopDy's people. blncl
Poppg's people. And why shouldn't
pumpkin rejoice in the sacrifice OF it
own life for Il benevolent purpose?
And Bessie herself. when she carrie,
the pies to Poppg's wretched home
having first set one aside in the cup
board that her mother might see thu
she could bake pies worth anybody
eating. looked almost beautiful witt
the excitement of doing |, Kindly deed
Her sun Drowned hands and stout arms
we're Just fitted for the beautiful wori
they had been doing. and she had a.
much reason to be proud OF them Il,
any lady of her delicate fingers. 70
certainly those are the prettiest hand
that do most willingly the wore the,
were made for
And black Poppy.s people could no
/ have received one of the graceful min
t isfnriugs Snit.it9 e,f fila, Sfay ha.,l.S WITH
more eloquent gratitude titan they di,
the homeiy little sii'i aud her heay.
/ basket of pies. Indeed. to those hal
lEStilrved hein.s she was il visipnof love
illness. Il real angel OF merey.. New
York Press.