Year: 1874




sweet scent now carries me back to the
time-the warm, sunny, summer morn
ing-when she stood at my door in her
little cotton gown, the roses trembling
In her timid grasp, and her great brown
eyes wet with tears, looking up, pite-
ously, into mine. Ten-twentv-how
many years ago is it? All me land I
still livel I was younger woman then.
My life was one long day of pleasure.
My husband loved mel worshiped
him [; but yeti was not happy. Like
Rachel, I mourned and wept, and
would not be comforted. "Give me
children, or die" was the bitter cry
I moaned incessantly. Then there
came 10 me one day, in answer to my
rebellious, wicked thought, a great
sorrow. Death instead of life lay on
my bosom, and found myself, while
still a young woman, widowed as well
rs ehildless


When I awoke from the terrible
apathy of grief, which held me for a
time IN its pitiless embrace, looked
around me, and thought, There is
surely something for me to do in this
great world. / will make reparation
for my sin. May there not be in this
wide world some little child as lone as
?--some m@therless one, who shall
be waiting for-the childless ?" Then
determined TO search for such a one.
and made the tour, religiOusly, of all
the charitable institutions, far and
near. It was to me a religion, for I
went with an earnest, penitent heart.
81 shall know her, when 1 see her, I
would answer the many friends who all
thought they knew the child wanted,
and still 1 went on searching through
city and town. I found many little
ones who needed all the help that
freely offered, but none that I felt III
my heart was the little child for whom
I longed-who should be waiting for
me


A year passed thus, and by the grave
faces. and half-heard whispers of my
friends, I saw they thought my grief
had turned my brain, and that sought
but a phantom of my imagination.
The time came, however, when found
my child They were going through
the sick-ward oil q Home for Friend
less Little Ones" in an eastern city,
one day In June, when, from a little
cot in the extreme corner of the room,
saw two great brown eyes looking up
ut me piteously. L left my companions
hurriedly to run toward the bedside,
and stopping down L passionately
kissed the beautiful face.


" Are you my mamma ?" the soft
voice asked, tremulously, the little face
flushing with pleasure beneath my
warm caresses.


"Yes, my darling" I whispered
back, Z" I am your mamma" and she
clasped her arms round my neck in a
close embrace, that kLit my heart to
hers forever after


All, knew then that my husband IN
heaven had sent me to this little one
for saw him looking through her eyes
straight into mine ! ] asked few ques-
tions concerning her, and they told me
little knowing nothing more than that
she was a waif rescued from the tempest
of the wicked, outside world but this
much I gladly iearned-she should be
mine I wanted her at once-to take
her with me in my carriage at the door
but it was necessary, they told me,
in order that she might be legally mine,
that a form shouli be preimlnariiy
gone through with, before 1 could take
her from "The Home :" and so L was
Obliged to wait another day for my
child I dreamed of her all night,
and my husband came to me, saying,
"You have done we'll


With the dawn of day I was awake.
NV prayers rose high with the rising OF
the sun, and began to feel blessed
peace. I awaited impatiently the hour
when should baVe my darling: AT
last a timid knock at the door made my
heart leap for Joy, and opening, there
she stood-a little child with a bunch
of roses I They were her dover from
the only home she knew-a home OF
charity-and vet the tears still trem-
bled in her eyes, and the sobs were torn
from her baby-breast at leaving II F.!
folded her close to my bosom, and told
her she was my own little daugtner
now-that God had sent me to be her
mamma-and she laughed up at mo
through her tears, and put the roses IN
my hand, saying


"I bring them to you"


I called her Rosemarie, for she was
my rose, and I dated all her birth
days from that sunny day in June when
she had come TO me with them. grew
to love her as no other mother ever loved
a child. Shs was to me my ali-nny
husband-my religion. But for her L
should some day, perhaps, have be-
come a cold, heartless woman OF tne
world. She saved me-froYn n1yselt T!
And she was so lovely There was no
fault that could see in her. Coald
mother say more?


She had been mine for five happy,
happy years, and had grown to be a
beautiful child OF eight-so beautltni
that the people on the street turned TO
look at her, and called her 9 WL3te,
rose" and "red-rose, and "wild-rose,
when they learned her fanciiul
pame l had utterly forgotten there
had ever been a time when l did not
own her, when, at last, there came "a a
terrible shock TO my remembrance ~
was in the early fall, and bitter cold. !
had fires burning in sitting.room ana
library for several days; and at nlghs
I ordered that the windows should hot
be closed up early, ga had fancy
that cheerful home-lights shining out
on weary wayfarers might brighten
their paths and thoughts; aud my home