Year: 1873

THE TWO WIDOWS.


PLEASING STORY, WITH GOOD MORAL.


ONCE on a time, two poor old widows
lived in the same hamlet and under the
same roof. But though the cottages join
ed and one roof covered them, they had
each a separate dwelling; and although
they were alike in age and circumstances,
yet in other respects they were very differ
ent. For, one dame was covetous, though
she had little to save, and the other was
liberal, though she had little to give.


Now, on the rising ground opposite to
the,widows cottages stood monastery,
where few pious and charitable breth-
rem spent their time in prayer, labor and
good works. And with the aims of the
monks, and the kindness of neighbors,
and because their wants were few, the old
women dwelt in tolerable comfort, and
had daily bread, and lay warm at night.


Now one evening, when the covetous
old widow was having supper, there came
knock at her door. Before she opened
it she hastily put away the remains of her
meal. "For," said she, "it is stormy
night, and ten to one some belated vaga-
bond wants shelter; and when there are
victuals on the table every fool must be
asked to sup"


When, however, she opened the door, a
monk, with his cowl pulled over his head
to shelter him from the storm, stepped
into the cottage. Much Disconnected at
having kept one of the brotherhood wait
ing, the widow loudly apologized, and
busted chair for her reverend guest; but
the monk stopped her string of regrets,
adding, 81 fear l cut short your evening
meal, my daughter"


"Now in the name ofill-luck, how came
ha m of thnncrbt fba widow 90
with anxious civility she began to press
the monk to take some supper after his
walk; for the good woman always felt
Hospitality inclined toward any one who
was likely to return her kindness seven
fold.


The brother, however, refused to sup ;
and as he seated himself the widow look
ed sharply through her spectacles to see
if she could gather from any charitable
distention of the folds of his frock,
whether loaf, a bottle of cordial, or a
new winters cloak were most likely to
crown the visit. No undue protuberance
being visible about the monks person,
she turned her eyes to his face, and found
that her visitor was one of the brother
hood whom she had not seen before And
not only was his face unfamiliar--it ~as
utterly unlike the kindly but rough
cOuntenances of her charitable patrons.
Not that she had never seen boasted the
noble beauty, the chiseled and refined
features of the monk before her. And she
could not but notice that, although only
the rushlight illuminated her room, and
though the monks cowl went far to shade
him even from that yet bright light al
ways seemed to be on his face, making
his clear skin almost transparent. Her
curiosity must have been greatly stirred,
had moth prevailing passion of greed
made her more anxious to learn what he
brought than who he was.


"It's terrible night" quoth the monk
at length. "Such tempest without only
gives point to the indoor comforts of the
wealthy; but it chills the very marrow of
the poor and destitute"


"Ah, indeed |" shifted the widow with
shiver. "If it were not for the charity of
good Christians, what would poor folks
do for comfort on such an evening as
this?"


"Itwas that very thought, my daughter"
said the monk, with sudden eaInestness
on his shining face, "that brought me
forth even now through the storm to your
cottage"


Heaven reward you" cried the widow
fervently.


Heaven does reward the charitable!"
replied the monk. ITO no truth do the
Scriptures bear such constant and unbro-
ken witness, even as it is written: He
that hath pity on the poor lendeth unto
the Lord; and look, what he layeth out
it shall be paid him again"


"What blessed thing it must be to be
able to do good" said the widow, pious-
ly, wishing in her heart that the holy man
would not delay to earn his recompense


"My daughter" said the monk, "that
blaoSinp 10 not xvifhbaII from uOn II ir
to ask your help for those in greater need
than yourself that | am come tonight"
And forthwith the good brother began to
tell how two strangers had sought shelter
at the monastery. Their house had been
struck by lightning and burned with all it
contained; and they, themselves, aged,
poor and friendless, were exposed to the
fury of the storm. "Our house is poor
one" continued the monk. "The stran-
gers lodging room is already full, and
we are quite without the means of MAX
ing these poor souls comfortable. You at
least have sound roof over your head,
and if you can spare one or two things
for the night, they shall be returned to.
morrow, when some of our guests de
part"


vexation and disappointment "Now,
dear heart, holy father' cried she, lis
there not a rich body in the place, that
you come for charity to a poor widow
like me, that am in case rather To bor-
row myself than to lend to othersy"


"Can you lend us spare blanketW
said the monk. "These poor strangers
have been out in the storm, remember"


The widow started. "What meddling
busybody told him that the baroness gave
me new blanket at Michelmas?" thought
she; but at last, very unwillingly, she
went to an inner room to fetch blanket
from her bed.


"They shan't have the new one, that's
fiat" muttered the widow; and she drew
out the old one, and began to fold 1t up.
But though she had dwelt upon its thick
ness and insufflciency to the baroness,
she was so powerfully affected at parting
with it, that all its good qualities came
strongly to her mind.


sits very suitable size" said she to
herself, "and easy for my poor old arms
to shake or fold. With careful usage it
would last for years yeti but who knows
how two wandering bodies that have been
tramping miles through the storm will
kick about in their sleepY And who
knows if they're decent people at all
Likely enough they're two hedge birds
that have imposed pitiful tale on the
BOOu idluClb3 anu nCNSi oiNllb uiihSA "iiQ
thing finer than a shock Of straw in Their
lives"


The more the good woman thought OF
this the more she felt sure 1t was the
case, and the less willing she became 10
lend her blanket to "a couple of cheating
tramps.n A sudden idea decided her
"Ten to one they bring a fever with
theml' she cried; "and dear knows
saw enough good bedding burnt after the