Year: 1863

stuff said little Mary.


The mother did not answer; she only
turned away her face that her little ones
: might not see the painful look in heI
t eyes; and very soon Johnny was asleep
and Mary, forgetting her grief, was play
, ing on the floor as though no sorrow haC
ever darkened her young life.


, Scenes like this were very frequent il
Tom Wilson's home, but he had never
t beaten his son SO severely as on this oc
casion. 1t seemed as if he had lost al
! feeling, and had become brute. 1t waI
! no wonder that, long after Johnny was
asleep, bis mother sat with her hands ly
ing in her lap and a sorrowful look iL hei


eyes. She remembered how when she
was happy young girl Tom Wilson


asked her to be his wife; how afterwards


they were married, and went to a pleas


ant home with honeysuckles clambering


over the windows, and clusters of flowers


grouped along the garden walks how


for two years they lived happily and


prosperously; how afterwards her hus-


band fell into bad company, and was Of


ten from home how he drfted on from


bad to worse, until at last he ceased to


care for his home, and neglected his bus


iness,and became unkind to all about him ;


and how he was poor, helpless drunk


ard, the slave Of pitiless appetite, with


want in his home, his life stripped of its


bloom and desolaton all around him.


Itis hard-very, very hard, said the


poor woman but give me strength dear


God, to bear the burden. Help me to do
all my duty, and to save my children


from the evils that beset them


Little Mary had, in the little patch of
ground behind the house, little rose


bush--a pale, sickIy thing-on which she


ayished the tenderest care. The day
that her father beat Johnny SO cruelty,
tiny little rose had burst into bloom, and |
Mary was in ecstacies over it. She was
fondling ii when, toward evening" the ia,
ther came home with his jug in his hand.
Forgetting how sayagely he had behaved
only a little while before, Mary, in her
joy, called to him to come and look at her
pretty little flower. He delight seemed
to rouse the very worst passions Of his
nature-there are some natures, you [
know, so perverse that they resent what
ever is good and pleasant-and walking
deliberately to the bush, he pulled off the
rose and stamped it on the ground
Then saying, with a horrid oath, Get out
of this be pushed her roughly away and
lay down with his jug beside him on the
grass.


Mary was a sensitive creature her
rosebush was her only pet, and the loss
of her flower was like the loss of trea-
sure which could not be replaced. Cry
ing bitterly, she ran to her mother, and
for an hour lay sobbing in her arms. At
ter a while she was put to bed but her
means did not cease; and even Johnny.
lying with his bruised face al her side,
forgot his own grief in plying bis sister.


The next morning little Mary was wild
with fever. The want of proper food,
with the excitement she had suffered,
had proved too much for her fragile frame
and now she lay insensible, her mother
seeking in vain to call home her wander
ing thoughts.


Johnny had gone out for the DOCTOR
In the street he met Harry Grant, to
whom he told his sad story. Harry huro
ried home, and very soon the minister's
wife was sitting with Mrs. Wilson by lit
tie Mary's bed. speaking consoling words.
After a while the doctor came, and for
some minutes stood attentively watching
bis little patient; then he shook his head
sadly. she is very sick child, Mrs.
Wilson, he said ; she has suffered some
grief and has not had sufficient nourish-
nent, and is so weak l am afraid it will ,
be difficult to rally her. You should
nave sent for me before


The doctor administered some medicine d
md went away. Toward night little
Mary's reason returned, but she could
,nly speak in a whisper. Thus all night
ong she lay, sometimes sleeping quietly,
hen rousing in a startled manner as if
frightened by some dream. Once she
aid, Don't let him come, mama,' and
Mrs. Winslow knew she was dreaming >
# her father, from whose cruelty all her
Illness had proceeded. =


The night passed the morning came, :
'eautiful and fair but Mary was no bet :.
er. The doctor called at an early hour, +,
ut only remained a moment. Taking
drs. Wilson's hand, he said, Your little
irl must die; she can hardly live till :
igbt, probably NOT later than MON