Year: 1875

loaf of bread and some cheese.


Mary Sandford was thirty five
a slight, pale faced, pretty woman ;
and what Of beauty she possessed
was due more to the reflex action
upon her face and manner of native
goodness than to any outward form
of feature.


Her chlld-a girl of nine years
was called Flora. She was n
plump, dimpled, sunny.haired and
sunny faced child, with the light
of a tender, loving heart sparkling
in every feature. She was really
and truly a thing of beauty and
perfect joy.


After eating the bread and
cheese, and drinking cold water
with it, Mary Sandford told to Ru-
fus Grote the story of her hus.
bands deatlt-hOw he had suffered
long, and how he had left her in
destitution.


"But," she concluded, as she saw
a cloud upon her uncle's face, 81 am
not come to be burden upon you.
Mrs. Maynard will be in town in a
few days and will give me work."


ugh! What kind of work y
grunted Rufus.


81 shall keep house for her.


Later in tho evening, by the
dim light of a single tallow candle,
little Flora crept to the old mans
side and climbed up into his lap.
For IA moment he had n thought of
putting her away, as he would have
put away an insinuating cat, but he
did not do it. So she kept on until
she had both hands upon his shoul
ders.


"You are my Uncle Rufus" she
said, with a quivering eager smile.


81 suppose so,' answered the
man, forcing out the reluctant
words.


81 haven't got papa any more.
Mayn't | kiss you before | go to
bed p


The little warm arms were round
his neck, and the kiss was upon his
cheek. The child waited a moment
as though for kiss in return, but
she did not get it, and she slipped
down and went with her mother to
the little dark room where Rufus
Grote had given up to their use his
own hard, poor bed.


For,himself the host had planned
to spread a blanket upon the floor in
the living,room. He had slept SO
before, and he could sleep SO again.


The soil of Rufus Grote's heart
was like the soil of other hearts.
A seed once forced through the
crust would find root there-either
good or evil. In all his manhoods
life so bright a thing had not crept
upon him before-so warm Il thing
as that childish kiss had not touch
ed his cheek. He did not think of
it so much until he was alone in the
dense darkness and then, when he
could see nothing else, he could see
that sunny face, and the musical
chirrup sounded again in his ears.
At first he would have been glad to
believe that the child's mother had
instructed her in this, but when he
looked over all the circumstances he
knew that it could not have been
and, in the end, before he slept, was
glad that. the little child had come to
him of her own sweet impulse.


Upon that hard floor, with only a
single blanket for bedding, Rufus
Grote did not sleep so soundly as
was his wont. He dreamed, and in
his dreams he saw cherub, and felt
cherubic arms about his neck, with
kisses upon his cheek. And he said
to himself in his dreams:


"Surely l cannot be such an ogre |
if these sweet beings can love me y


In the morning Rufus Grote was
up very early. He had thought,
the night before, that he had bread
and cheese enough for breakfast
but after the nights rest-perhaps
after the nights dreams-he took
new thoughts. Without exactly
comprehending the feeling, the
sense of utter lOnliness and selfish.
ness had given place--just the glim-
merlng Of q place-to a warmer
sense of companionship and frater-
nifty. He put his hand up to the
cheek where the Impress of the
chi!d's kiss had fallen, and new
came to his mind. He