OCR Text |
Show i An' if I tried to advise htm be wouldn't hVen tome, 'For women don't understand b'isnesa, though they think they do,' said he. "So it wasn't Ion afor Robert had every thing1 mil his own way, An'nrik?r then live in a jangle, 1 dfdn't hart much to say. An' it emcd as tf Marthy an' Sarah had somehow pot the idee That they knew better than I did an' they wouldn't lis'en to me. "Denny in' I poor Benny, who loved me better man thej, We knew that we wasn't wanted, we felt we m loth in tht way; But we jest hel' fast to each other, an' he'd tell me of many a plan That was loin' to make things dift'rent when he got to be a man. "It seemed as if Robert Jest hated the boy his ehart in the farm, An' he blamed kirn for this thing an' that, tho' he never was guilty of harm ; An' at lajt I said 'Benny, don't stay here! ItUl kill me to have you used to. It'll be awful lonesome without you, but I'll sUa it jest pack up an g.' "An4 he went 'Run away,' Robert told 'em. 'Oood riddance,' says Marthy says she. Bat it seemed as tbere'd ben a fua'ral an' the only mourner was me. Oh, Benny, my Benny, my baby! Hi loved me, an what would he say , If he knew I was here ia the poorhouse, an they called me a pauper today t "Py an' by, when Robert got marri'd, the girls, said th t they wouldn't stay To be boss d 'round by his wife; an left home, an they live in the city to-day. i Marthy marri'd a man that' got money they say ' he's as rich as can be ; But she'll let me die here in the poorhause an' ! Sarah's as cruel as sha. ! i "Robert's wife she was alius aq'inst aae, an' Robert would say she was right, 1 An' I couldn't do nothin' to suit em it was find fault fiom anornin' to night. j I tried hard to make 'em no trouble, I wanted to earn my own way But I couldn't, tin' that is the reason I'm hero in the poorhouse to-day.", ' It wa the morning af Christmas, and we heard tht gla'l bell ring ' la the joy that cornea at the birthday of Christ, , our Sariour-King. "The day'll briag gladness to most folks," she said with a sorrowful sigh, "But when one's homeless an' friendless it's the best of all blessin' to die. "I wonder if Robert, an' Marthy, an' Sarah'll think ; to-day Of the mot ier they sent to the poorhouse, to get I her out o' the way, As they're eatin' their Chris'mas dinner? God ; grant they may never know ; What it is to have their children turain' ag'lnst 'eas so. "I wish I conld hear from Benny, just a word froaa him todav. To say that be loves his mother as he did when he ' went away. Lis'en! There's somebody knockin't I'll go to the door an see Mebbe the children are sorry, an' are sendin' after mel" , The door swung back on its hinges to let the visitor past. 7 "Motherl My dear old mother, It's Bennny come i back at last!" Sha felt his strong: arms arouud her, his kiss on her V withered cheek, Aad for one long, happy moment it seemed that she eould not speak. ' Then, with a sob that choked her, she whispered "Oh, my boy I .', Thank God, I sba'n't die In the poorhouse! "and the bells all rang for joy I I And Benny cared for his mother all her remaining i days ; i So one and all to all such sons, five your loudest praise. Selected, , t How Christmas came to the Poorhouse. Poor-house. One day there came to the poorhouse a woman whose uead was white With the snows of sixty odd winter', and never a sadder sight Have I seea and I've seea full many I than the poos, old wrinkled lace, All wet with tears as they left her ia the pauper's loJuing-piace, "I don't want to die poorhouse," she said, with a heart-breaking moan. And the g rlef of that poor old Creature would have touched a heart of stone, "why couldn't they let me stay there? It wouldn't be long I know! And end my days ia the old home T Oh how can they I treat me so? Oy and by she told me her story. Her husband had long been dead. "He died when Beany my joungest, was ten years old," she said, "An' I've beeu se glad, so thankful, that he dida't liva to know What was in the hearts of the children that he loved and trusted so. " 'Mychildrea, be kind tayour mother,' he tald'em the day he died. 'I know you will care for her always,' an he called em ta hia side Hobert, an' Marthy, an' Sarah, an ProaslaA aaa, ckil ren,' said he; An' they promised that they would be kind to an' always tske care o' me. "Robert, the eldest, was tweaty wbea his father died in May, An' he took things into his own haa's in a masterful kind o' way. t |