Pike County Democrat, Volume 29, Number 47, Petersburg, Pike County, 31 March 1899 — Page 7

|ING loud, O bells of Easter, Tour peals through spaces ring; |Wlth joy the fair earth greets you Through all the notes of spring. Ring In all peace and

.1 Ring out *11 strife and tears, r As downward through the ages You’ve rung the passing years. „ Ring clear, O bells, your message ( Throughout all nature thrills; It all things living touches. As when from Judah's hills There rose the light triumphant O’er death and mortal fears. And dawned that first great Easter— The Easter of the years. * Ring sweet, O bells, your lesson Unto each heart to-day; That all before the Master May but life’s lilies lay; Ring soft—ring low; your chiming May bridge some past—its tears, For those, perchance, who mourneth Some Easter in the years. Again, O bells of Easter, Ring out in thrjllirg peal. That we, through all our pulses The new-born glory feel God’s living, loving presence. As each new spring appears In all that breathes around as. Throughput the march of years. —Beatrice Harlowe, in Woman’s Home Companion.

WHITAKER drew up her little brown and white pony with an expression of disgust on her face and' waited until the wagon, with the long box covered,

wifth an old black shawl, had passed* her on Its way to the village burying ground. “Another pauper’s funeral,” Mrs. Whitaker murmured, looking over her shoulder, as she drove- on past, the town Again Anno Whitaker’s lips curled. “Old men and funerals, right- nest ■doo>r;” and this time she struck the slow-moving pony a gentle blow with her equally slow-moving whip. ?iow Mrs. Anne Whitaker was not a hard-hearted woman. She was only j an indignant land owner who found her handsome farmhouse almost ruined for residential and property purposes by its proximity totbe poor farm. This farm, adjoining Mrs. Whitaker’s, had been, left- to the town last-year. "It’s noti that I don’t want the paupers to be comfortable,” said Mrs. Whitaker, as the pony trotted up the - driveway toward the barn; “but I must any I don't care to have them right under my nose.” Mrs. Whitaker,, not finding her man about, unharnessed the pony and led ^him into the stall and then went indoors to duscuss with Hannah, the only otheT occupant of the big house, the disadvantages Of the locality. Meantime in the poorhouse. next door, a little child was sobbing^ her heart, out-in an upper room. "You hadn’t oughter have taken her away before her mother died, if she did make a fuss,” said the daughter of the woman who looked after the poorfarm, ‘Tm again’ up to see her.” She went up two flights of stairs to the garret- room where a child was seated on an old box in the corner. The child stopped crying, half frightened as she entered. The girl sat- down on a trunk opposite “Look here, Ruth,- you mustn’t cry any longer,” commanded the matron’s daughter. “I want my mother,” sobbed the •child, with new courage. The girl hesitated a moment. “Well, you can’t have your mother,” she answered at last, frankly, “she’s dead, and gone to Heaven.” “Oh,” said the child, slowly, “you didn't tell me. Mamma s^id she thought she was going to die, but they •didn’t tell me; they just carried me

-away. “Well, for gracious sakes!” cried1 the girl; “you took on so about her bein’ sick that we had to. You ain’t goin’ to •cry any more, are you?” she added, •coaxingly. “No, I ain’t,” answered the child, .gravely. “There, that's a good girl;” the matron’s daughter rose and gave the dark locks an affectionate rub. “I knew you wasn’t goin’ to be naughty.” The girl went downstairs anil left Huth, sitting very still upon Uie box in the corner and thinking hard, with her eyes fixed on a cobweb just across the garret. “My mamma has died and gone to Heaven,*’ the child meditated, solemn* ly. “I told her if she went up to Heaven first*, the next thing she knew she’d look around and see me there. I ain’t going to stay in this horrid place without her. I*m going to die myself and go and see her, right straight off. m put on my best nightgown, and I’ll lie down in the bed and pat some flowers at my head”—some kind person had placed a bouquet by her mother’s

bed t]be last time Ruth had seen Per lying slits and still—“and then 111 die and go i» Heaven.” She rose now and; stepping to the window, peered between tie dusky festoons at the blue shy, as il she expected to see the angels already : escending to bear her away, At last she went quietly down the stairs; i *e mtst find the flowers first, and to g<> out of doors by the back way she ir.us t pass through the kitchen. The girl -vas at the stove frying doughnuts. ami looked up as Ruth entered. “Hnlkt ” she said; “have a doughnut?” * These doughnuts were not for the inmates o| the farn^ and it was a rare honor tc be offered one. For a moment Ri: :h '(prgot her errand, it was so warm at d sweet. While she was eatr ing it, s landing close by the fire, the girl’s mother, who was sitting in the kitchen, ispoke: “To 'flunk to-morrer should Be 1 Easter.” “I know it; I hope it’ll be pleasant." j “What is Easter?” asked Ruth, timidly. “Low j akes! what a hea then she is,* cried the woman. w “Easter,” said the jrirl, oracularly, | balancing a doughnut on the end of her fork, “is (he day when Christ rose from the dead, is all the dead shall rise.” Ruth, : she stood in the corner, ate inut and pondered over the* her doug words. “I gue- s to-morrow'll be the best day to d with hun The ne: fair and { for little )8 in,” she decided, watching ry eyes as the girl bore the pan of dl ughnhts off to the matron’s private lat der; “that’s the day the dead shall all rise.” t morning brought Easter, a lad day for many as well as jluth; for was not this to Be the day oip which she should rise to her mother I:: the skies? She. w;ent out into the g: rden directly after breakfast to gather some flowers. After much Ruth discovered in a swamp he house, a pussy-willow i the- oatkins clinging gray o the shining brown twigs, a great bunch of these and bore then home in triumph. Suddenly' she remen bered something; her mother’s lamest' the night before she lost all knowledge of where she was, that she must die in the poor farm; how bad she felt j t>out that. “I don’t think mamma’d want me to die here,” she , with a little sob of disapin her voice. ^ t dusk of that Easter day searching far from bushT witi and soft She pieke murmured point: men'*f It was

across her breast, closed her eves, just as she bad seen her mother oil that last day. and waited—waited through the seconds that the tall hall-clock ticked solemnly from below the stairs., waited while they turned to minutes, and even to an hour; but the angels were waiting, too, the guardian angels of little Ruth. While she waited the brown and white pony was ambling down the road, beering Mrs. Whitaker borne after the church service. She hod left Hannah an the way to make a call on ter family and was now alone. The peace of Easter was smiling on her lips and the joy of Easter was shining in her eyes; for Easter has always the largest meaning to those, left as she, alone in the world. She drove np the driveway to the barn, lighted the- lantern and unharnessed the horse—the hired man had his Sundays out; then she came to the beck door. The sight of the key projecting from the lock brought another frown to her face. “Hannah’s getting careless,” she j said, as she stepped into the kitchen, j She sat down a moment before the fire in the darkness, then rising, lighted a lamp and went slowly up the stairs to I put away her bonnet and shawl. She came into her bedroom, placed the light on her bureau and turned about toward the bed. She gave a sudden cry, not a shriek, but something between a moan and a sob and put her hand to her side. But after a still moment, she went to the bureau, picked up the lamp m a steady hand and walked gravely to the bedside, looking over the little white figure from the dark, roughened hair to the pink-toed feet. A hint of a smile came to the’ corners of her mouth. Now the child opened her big black eyes, saw the faint smile and tranquilly elosed them again. Anne Whitaker frowned. Was it a trick being played upon her? “What are you doing here?” she demanded, still holding the light and still peering dowti into the child’s face. Ruth opened hgr eyes again with a look of appeal in them. “I’m dying,” she answered, calmly, and then closed hex eyes. Mrs. Whitaker jumped so that the chimney almost fell from the; lamp; she hurried to the bureau, placed it there and then came back to the bed. “Do you feel very bad?” she queried, anxiously. A piteous frown came to the child’s forehead. “Please don’t ’srturb me, I

goo 1 jfruR^OMg

LOOKING OVER THE LITTLE WHITE FIGURE.

when a liltle white-robed figure stole softly oui; of the back door of the poor house,‘and, creeping slowly along in the shade v, came at last to Mrs. Whitaker's back gate. Then it fairly flew up the pathway, and paused at the door. But the d. or was locked, and there was no key ijn sight. A sudden memory came to II uth of the day when- she had' been to walk with the girl at the poorfarm, and the girl had taken the key from under the mat. She reached down no# and felt beneath the mat. Yes, thei. it was. She fitted the key in the door, turned it quickly and found herself in Mrs. Whitaker’s please ant kite! ;n, where the fire glowed in a safe, subd ued fashion, and the diningroom she Wed through the half-open door. But K*ith wasted scarce a glance on these beiuties. She had ^een the brown and white pony go down the road son * time since, and she planned to die and be done with it before the pony’s d«mer should return. She w >ed her cold bare feet carefully on the kitchen rug; it appeared to her most fitting to die in bare feet; then, ho ling the big bunch of pussywillows c losely* she crept sofitly up the stairs t« the handsome square chambers. Sr e was awestruck with their size, and j;Tandeur,. and it took her some time to ii ecide which one was suitable for her tying out; hut at- last she selected Mrs. Whitaker’s own bedroom. She placid the pussy-wtHows in a vase on the t? i ble at the head of the bed, and then she opened the window wide. * “I she lid think that would be big enough for the angels to get me through, if they’re cartful,” she said, aloud; sue had not seen her mother carried away in the poorfarm wagon in the long,* black box. She climbed solemnly up into the great high-posted bed, lying quietly in the center of it, her little close-cropped head ag- inst Mrs. Whitaker's spick and span sh;,ms, her small, baTe feet projecting, pinkitoed and chill, from the edge o:[ her Carefully drawn-down, na. She folded her hands mg,

want to die;” she had screwed her eyes more tightly together this time. Mrs. Whitaker straightened up. “Oh. you do. do you?'* then she bent over the bed. “Have you taken anything?” she asked, solicitously. The. child looked at* her now. “No. I didn’t have anything that was good enough. You can get-'most everything in Heaven, can’t you?” Anne Whitaker retreated a pace and sat- down in the nearest chair. She did not answer until she realized that Ruth was still looking at. her inquiringly. “Yes, I guess so," she began, hastily. Then she felt a draft, of cold air. “I guess there isq’t much doubt about your dying if you lie there with that window open;” she went toward the window and closed it“Don’t. shut it ; how can the angels come in?” Ruth sat up in bed and looked at* her. Anne Whitaker looked back at the thin little face and the sad, dark eyes, and a lump came into her throat. “They can come in at the door, I guess,” she said; butshewasnot-think-ing of the words. She went over to the child, who had lain down again, and touched her bare, chill fee. “You’re going to catch your death a-oold,” she. affirmed. Tm going to put my shawl over yon.” The child unfolded her hands and spread them out in appeal. ‘‘Won't you please let me die? This is such a nice house to die in.” Again Mrs. Whitaker retreated. “What.—what, do you want* to die for?” she stammered. “ ’Cause my mamma died, an* I want to go an’ see her in Heaven; an’ it’s a more joyful place than the poorhouse.” Mrs. Whitaker had always prided herself on being a woman of resource. She sat down on a chair opposite the bed and studied the little figure perplexedly. Suddenly there was a movement of the small nose, a wrinkling of the smooth eyebrows, and the next moment the still form was shaken by a convulsive sneeze. Mrs. Whitaker sprang to her feet.

“There’* one thing suri!*,” she declare!,1 impressively, “if I let you lie there that way I ought as well! be a murderer and done with it. Wanting to die, indeed! Don’t you know the Lord’s got work for you in the world, and it isn’t ( right for you to die?” Her voice rose in her indignation louder than she knew, from the clothespress where she was extracting her biggest and wannest gray shawl. When she turned again toward the bed, two great tears were stealing from beneath Ruth’s dark lashes and making slow •way down her hollow checks. Mrs. Whitaker groaned and choked and sat down with the shawl in her arms. Then, what seemed like a brilliant inspiration came to her. | “I’ve got some apple tarts downstairs; they’re brown an’ crispy, and there’s one that’s just about big enough for a little girl. I should think she’d like to have something to eat before she dies.”

The child’s mouth moved convulsively at the corners, but this time it was not with grief. “And I’ve got a cooky that’s round, with sugar on the top and a hole in the middle.” Mrs. Whitaker smiled broadly as Ruth sat up. 7 “And could I take one to mamma, too?” she asked. “Oh,” answered the triumphant lady, “your mamma has everything she wants in Heaven.” The child smiled. “Then 1 guess I’ll wait till I get there, too,” she said, and lay dawn again. The shawl twitched in Anne Whittaker’s hands; she longed to gather the forlorn little figure into her arms, but she did not feel that she cohld use fore? toward the child; she must manage her, she had always been so good a manager. “Do you know wbat day it is?” she asked, presently, feeling her way carefully. “Yes, that’s why I died to-day,” was the answer, still with tight-shut eyes. “To-day is the' day that Christ rose from the dead to teach us that as He rose, so shall we all rise.” began Mrs. Whitaker, gently. Ruth was looking at her now. “But I can’t rise,” she said,j plaintively; “ ’cause you keep ’sturbirg me.” “You might”—Anne Whitaker drew a loug breath, was it sacrilegious?— “you might play you had been dead and”—she paused. A gleam of interest sh >ne in Ruth’s face. “But this isn’t Heaven,” she

protested. ‘‘The Kingdom of Hea^ en is within yon,” Mrs. Whitaker quoted, with both freedom and truth as she approached the bed with out spread shawl. “It isn’t Heaven, but we might be good and make it seem like Heaven.” The child put up her 1 and as if te ward off the shawl. “But God isn’t here and mamma isn’t here.” “God is everywhere,” answered Mrs Whitaker; and Kuth looked about half startled. “But He is a spirit, and you can’t see Him.” She dropped the shawl over the child now, and as she wrapped it about her she finished more softly: -“Your mamma isn’t here, but you might play for a little while that I was your other mother.” “Not my real mother?” Hut}; asked wistfully. “Oh no,” Mrs. Whitaker said, hastily; “only a play mother.” The child said no more, but- let herself be wound up in the shawl and sat quietly on the edge of the bed while Mrs. Whitaker brought out a pair of her long woolen stockings and drew them over the little, unresisting feet. There was still a slight disappointment in Ruth’s face when the great, gray shawl was fastened with a safety pic firmly beneath her chin. “Now be careful when you go downstairs.and keep tight hold of the banisters;” and Mrs. Whitaker came astCj behind with a firm clutch on the small, gray-shawled shoulder. She placed the child in the greai rocking chair in front of the stove and laid out all her goodies on the table; apple tarts and cookies and preserves and-eold meat and bread and butter and rich, warm milk. Then she went- upstairs and brought down an old sacque of her own that Ruth might put on. and so have her arms free; and they botl actually: fell to laughing as she- rolled and rolled and rolled up the long hanging sleeves. Mrs. "Whitaker was amazed and fear ful when she saw Ruth eat.; the little girl, whose mind seemed fixed on heavenly things, had a hearty appetite. At last, for fear the child might, in deed, die from overeating, her hostess suggested that, they rock together in the chair before the fire. At- this moment little Ruth looked up with a smile onher face, from which all traces of disappointment were fast vanishing. “I think this must be almost as nice as Heaven; just but for mamma.” Mrs. Whitaker smiled grimly. “I guess Heaven is a good deal within us, even with, the poorhouse next door.” ^Hannah made an unusually long call on her family, so Mrs. Whitaker thought-, holding the little, shawlwrapped figure in front of the diningroom fire. But when at last she entered, her mistress’ commands were ready. v .

“Hanna, you go over to the poorfarm and tell them that Buth’s over here and going to stay, and I’ll send John for her things in the morning.** Hannah stood still, gaping, in the dining-room doorway. “Welfc I never?” she announced, with her usual freedom; “what on earth have you ben doin’?” Anne Whitaker smiled with her Kps against Buth’s dark locks. “Well,” she said, slowly, “we’ve been having a resurrection. You see, this little girl came over here to”—she was about to add “to die,” but changed* it suddenly “to live.”—Frances Bent Dillingham, In N. Y. Independent.

C. A. Burger & Bro., Merchant Tailors. J. P. Kurt, agent, Oakland City. HOT WEATHER StTITOTOS! . I ' All the Latest Patterns and Styles to Select from. Suits, $16 and up. Pants, $4 azdup. r " if ” % Call and See our Piete Goods and Tri tamings. - , I ‘' Louisville. Evansville & St. Louis C, Railroad Time table In HI. Lon i* Vast Esp. St. Louis Limited. S!451 2:55 p.m. 2:»pa*. 2.W p-aa. 1:5? p.n» 7:&i< Sight trains stop at Winslow and Velpen on signal ooly. R. ▲. Campbell, G.PJL, St. Louis.

R ICHARDSOX A TAYLOR, Attorneys at^Law. Prompt attention given to all bnsinesa. Notary Public constantly in the office. Offie^t In Carpenter building,-Eighth and Main-sts., Petersburg, Ind. ^SHBY A COFFEY. O. B. Ashby, C. A. Coffey. Attorneys at Law. Will practice in all courts. Special attention given to all civil business. Notary Public constantly in the office. Collections made snd promptly remitted. Office over W. L. Barrett’^ store, Petersburg, Ind. O. DAVENPORT, Attorney at Law. Prompt attention given to all business. Office over J. R. Adams A Son’s drug store, Petersburg, Indiana. M.AC.L. HOLCOMB, Attorneys at Law. Will practice in all courts. Prompt attention given toali business. Cilice in Carpentj»rblock, first flour on Eighth-*.:., Petersburg. E. WOOLSEY, Attorney at Law. .All business promptly attended to. Collections promptly made and remitted. Abstracts of Title a specialty. Office in Frank’s building, opposite Press office, Petersburg, Ind. i R. RICE, Physician and Surgeon. Chronic Diseases a specialty. » Office over Citizens’ State Bank, Petersbui Indiana rg, 'p W. BASINGER, Physician and Surgeon, Office over Bergen A Oliphant’s drag loom No. 9, Petersburg, Ind. , All calls promptly answered. Telephone No. 42, office and residence. dote ^ VH. STONECIPHER, Dental Surgeon. Office in rooms • and 7. in Carpenter build* Ing, Petersburg. Indiana. Operations firstclass. Afl work warranted. Anaesthetics used for painless extraction of teeth. 0 C.MURPHY. 4 Dental Surgeon. Parlors in the Carpenter building, Petersburg, Indiana. Crown and Bridge Work a specialty, fill] vtvmu ouu ui Muta » special work guaranteed to give satisfaction. VTOT1CE Is hgreby given to all persons lhIV terested that I will attend in my office fct my residence EVERY MONDAY, J I*o transret business connected with theoffijee of trustee of Marion township. Ali persons having business with said office will Dlease take notice. T. C. NELSON. Trustee. Postoffice address: Winslow. NOTICE Is hereby given to all parties concerned that I will attend at my residence ! EVERY WEDNESDAY, To transact business connected with the office •f trustee of Madison township. Positively no business transacted except on office days. J. D. BARKER, Trustee. Postoffice address; Petersburg,. Ind. ■vrOTlCB Is hereby given to all parties |nis terested that I will attend at my office^ in 8tendal. . EVERY SATURDAY, To transact business connected with the office of trustee of Lockhart township. All persons having business with said office will please take notice. J. L. BASS, Trustee. 1 >ffic NOTICE is hereby given to all parties concerned that I will be at my office at Pleasantville, MONDAY AND SATURDAY I of each week, to attend to business connected with the office of trustee of Monroe township. Positively no business transacted only on office lays. J. M. DA VIS, Trustee Postoffice address SpurrvxL NOTICE Is hereby given to all persona concerned that ( will attend at my office | EVERY MONDAY £ To transact business connected with the office of trustee of Jefferson township. cIiE TRAYLOR. Trustee Poatoffice addreaa: Algiep, Ind.

cox ot same in tee u» sw ami foreign countne sent free. Address, C. A. SNOW & CO

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