Rensselaer Union, Volume 11, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 February 1879 — AUNT RUTH’S VALENTINE. [ARTICLE]

AUNT RUTH’S VALENTINE.

“Dinah,”saidAuntßuth, “thee may light the gas in the hall and see who is at the door. I hear tho bell again.” “’Deed, missus, it’s only another of them mizzable boys with their valentines, I ’spect! My legs is broke now, and I’se got a dreadful misery in my back a-runnin’ to the door with nothin’ there but them no ’count pictures and chalk-marks on the steps!” Dinah sailed majesticaly from the room. She opened the door cautiously a few inches and peered out into the snow-storm that was raging; but seeing no one proceeded to close it again with muttered invectives against all “ mizzable white trash,” when she saw a small boy, ten or twelve years of age, black as ebony, scantily clad in a cottom shirt and ragged pants, which were a world too large for him, and were drawn nearly to his shoulders, beingheld in place by suspenders of twine, and turned up at the ankles, showing a pair of bare feet. This small boy, surveying her a moment quite as coolly as she surveyed him, at last deliberately stepped into the lighted doorway dragging by the hand a shivering little girl almost hidden in the folds of a ragged coat. This coat he now dexterously jerked from her shoulders, saying: “ Here’s a wallentine fur the lady wot lives here!” Then turning, he ran rapidly down the steps without one look back into the hall, where the bewildered Dinah stood staring stupidly after him, and disappeared aroand the first corner into the snowy darkness. Tho little, smutty-faced, blue-eyed “valentine,” so unceremoniously delivered, still stood motionless under the gas-light awaiting further developments. Dinah at last recovered speech and action, and closed the door with a bang. “Missus, missus! for mussy sake look-adhere!” As the lady obeyed the imperative summons and stepped into the hall, the little bundle of tatters and rags moved to her side and peered up into the placid face surrounded by the prim folds of a Quaker cap. Seeming to recognize a friendly heart shining in the serious eyes, she thrust into her hand a scrap of dirty, crumpled paper, saying: “ Dick writ it!” r - Aunt Ruth Took the -queer-looking

document and, with a puzzled look at the bearer, proceeded to decipher the queer hieroglyphics. It had evidently been a laborious task for the grimy lingers that had traced them; but at last she picked out the message embodied in letters of all sizes and shapes. The writer had evidently mado it his sole aim to represent the facts in the case, nobly regardless of the minor considerations of orthography and punctuation: " Thi* littul au,rl Hain't Ri»t no folks nor no wares to sta only a womman that be ten hur ors ul and mo and a box with (draw into it to sloap in nites. l v brunt’ Hur to 13ee yure wallentme. Hbe s hungry. Dick.” While the lady was laboring over the odd missive tho little waif stood looking soberly up into her face, and when she raised her eyes, full of pity and compassion, the child said: “ He told me he writ into it that 1 wasn’t nobody’s -girl- only his’n. and that I’d be your wallentine! I don’t look like’em, but I’ll be it. I’d like to. It's jolly warm here, only my feet’s cold,” and she looked down at tho boy’s boots she had on, ragged and run over at the heel. “ They’s Dick’s. He made mo wear ’em when I cried!” “Thee may‘take the child to the kitchen, Dinah, and give her something to eat. I will come presently, and perhaps 1 can find out where she belongs.” Dinah led her down tho hall, the wet boots shuttling heavily over the carpet, and tho bright blue oyes, shining out of the smutty face like stars from a mudhole, lifted apprehensively to tho dark face. ‘‘l dodeclar fer it,” muttered the old woman, “white trash and black trash -is—mostly alike -in their no ’count pranks, that’s a fact! Blostif this ain’t tho queerest piece of business I’so evot seen at this house yit! A wallentine! Missus Ruth’s ways is so onexpected’ Heroi you poor, little, white beggar!’! Dintth's crusty manner softened a little as she watched the greediness with which the child, devoured the big slice of bread and butter; but she, melted outright when, as she finished her rare foast, the little “ white beggar” slid from her chair and caught and kissed the big black hand, saying: “I likes you ’cause you look like Dick. I likes good black folks!” When Aunt Ruth came down she found her “wallentine” seated in Dinah’s own rocking-chair before the Are, while Dinah herself, down on the floor, had the almost frozen feet in her lap, rubbing them and giving vent to some very unorthodox expressions of opinion as to the orderings of Providence. “Sakes alive! don’t know’s it’s so, but the Lo’d seems to pay a mighty sight of ’tention to some folks and forgit all about the rest. ’Pears like -oMWto nought -to be looked after anyhow. They ain’t, though, half on ’em! Things is queer in this world if ’tis the £o’d r s world!" - “Well, child,” said Annt Ruth, “now that thee is warm and fed will thee tell thy name and where thee belongs?” She shook her bead.

“ Don’t belong nowheros. Father always called me ‘ Drat-you-Bab!’ ” Aunt Ruth sighed 1 over this dolorous compound cognomen. “ Has thee no mother?”

“Once. She called mo ‘ Here-you-Bab!’ Father struck her with a bottle and she’d gone dead in the morning. And one day the perlice took father away, and old Bet told me to go ’long, too, and I went ’long fer as I could. 1 hadn’t nowheres to stop, and I crawled into Dick’s box, and he put straw over me and fixed me a jolly nice and ev’ry day he took care of me. He made me this—” and here poor, little “ Drat-you-Bab” stooped and drew from one of her capacious boots a doll, whittled from a stick and artistioally finished with coal as to hair, eyes and mouth. She looked at it admiringly for a moment, rearranged tho drapery of old Erint, which was somewhat disturbed y its journey in the boot, and then restored it to its resting-place. Aunt Ruth sighed again. “ Give her a warm bath, Dinah, and thon'theo may make her a bed on the lounge in my room. yrill find thee something thafc-wiif serve her as a night-dress.” And then poor, little, wondering “Drat-you-Bab” was soon wrapped in a warm shawl and curled down on the lounge in Aunt Ruth’s pleasant room; too much excited by the noveltv of her position to sleep, too thoroughly comfortable to do anything but hug her wooden treasure and stare, first at the pretty surroundings, then at the benevolent face at the fireside. Suddenly she raised herself on her elbow. “ Dick said he hearn there was nangels that lived somew’eres an’ took care of folks. Be you one?” “No, no, child,” said Aunt Ruth, gently, “I am only Aunt Ruth. Go to sleep.”

“ Yes’m. But Ido wish Dick was a wallentine, too! It’s wdrry cold into his box.” Aunt Ruth and Dinah sat into the night nastily fashioning warm garments; but they considered themselves well repaid by the delight with which they were donned in the morning. While happy little “ Drat-you-Bab” was taking her bountiful breakfast by the side of the kitchen stove, a shadow darkened the window, and the little girl, looking up, exclaimed, joyfully: „ . “ Oh, there’3 my Dick!” Dinah opined the door and bade him “Come ’long in,” giving him a jerk to facilitate his movements. He shambled bashfully in, and in a moment the child’s arms were around his neck, and her face, almost pretty in its unwonted cleanliness, nestled caressingly against his blrfck cheek, while she poureaout a torrent of eager exolamations of satisfaction at being a “ wallentine.” When she at last released him, Dinah took him by his shoulders, and seated him firmly in a chair. “Now,” said she, “you’sjest a goin’ to set there till you ’splain the whole ’rangement to me and missus. An’ you jest lay out to tell the trufe, the whole trufe, an’ nollin but the trufe all the way through—that is if ye kin. Niggus* is mostly mighty onsartin!” When Aunt Ruth came down she found her “ wallentine”-bringer, refreshed by a breakfast the like of which he had never before enjoyed, sitting by the fire with the “wallentine” at his side—her two little hands tightly held in one of his own, and supreme satisfaction at the success of his odd scheme shining in every feature of his honest face. Her eyes filled as she stood in the door a moment unnoticed by the children, but she was not given to any demonstrations and made no comment.

And then Dick rose in his place still holding both the little hands. “I hain’t got much to tell, ma’am. I’m Dick the boot-black, an’ this yer little girl I found one night last week. Me an’ Joe Rafferty had been to a place where they had some picters and things the man called a * pandorammer,’ an’ when we come out ’twas late an’ wo was cold an’ we run all the way to the box. The box is a big box down by Higley’s warehouse, an’ we sleep into it. An’ we found this little Baba-curle'd up into it asleep. Joe he was a-goin’ to bounce fag? - ) but when he seen how little she was, he didn’t. He jest yauked off his coat an’ put it over her an’ some old carpet, too, an’ we did cover her up elegant, an’ she slep’ beautiful till mornin’. In the mornin’ she talked an’ we reckoned to take care of her our own selves after that. Joe an’ me got her crackers an’ milk an’ things when we could, an’ we made believe she was our housekeeper, Joe swep’ the crossins an’ one daj r a runaway team knocked him down an’ killed him all of a sudden. This here Bab, she cried so, ah’ was so lonesome after Joe, that I allowed it was better ttf try an’ had her a home if I eould. ••*'* “ I seen folks a sondin’ wallentines for presents an’ I thought some one orter like a little girl better nor they would a picter. I seen you on the street, ma’am, when you give the lame man some money, an’ I follered along that day to see where you lived, air when you went up the steps you seen me,, ma’am, an’ smiled out of your eyes so good that I most knowed you’d be kind to a little girl that hadn’t no one but me. She’s real cute, ma’am! 1 seen you once, too,” added he to Dinah, who stood with dish-towel in hand, gravely weighing his words. “ 1 was a-blackin’ a fellers boots on the market the day you boxed that chap’s ears for dragging the dog over the stones in the gutter. Didn’t he run, though, when vow let him go?” “ I’elar fort,” said Dinah, “he’s telUn!.the tcufel ’Peared like I felt he might be liable the minnit I sot eyes on him.” Dick mado no comment on Dinah’s “ change of base,” but looked earnestly into Aunt Ruth’s face. As she said nothing, he repeated timidly, with a little quaver in his voice: “She ain’t got no mother nor nobody in the whole world only me, ma’am; an’she's real cute!” “Dick,” said Aunt Ruth, quietly, “ I should think thee would rather find a home for thyself than to take all this trouble for a strange little girl.” “Ma’am,” said Dick, gravely, “I heard a prcacher-man on the street one day, ma’am, tollin’ about a good fellow that wanted the little children took care of and that he said into some book or other (he had itthere an’ read out of it), ‘ When you do it to them you do it to me an ’ Til remember an' be good to you some time for it!' When we found Bab a-curled up in the box, lookin’ so little an’ so helpless, >< I thought it meant for us to take care of her, an’ we talked it over an’ poor Joe he reckoned so, too.” ™ m Keep “mv walentine, Dick," Aunt Ruth paid, looking into the fire with a smile. “1 never, heard of sending back a valentine, I bfelieve. And I think Til send one myself, too. I .want thee to a note for me to Friend Bradley’s office on. Harlem street, Dick."

Tha notowaq written in a fair, upright hand, in a fewooncise words: "Friend Bradley. I nend thee a Valentine. Thee will find the linen belonging to it in the tWSnty-fifih chapter pf Matthew, fortieth Verne. “ Ruth Hjuimon." It is a year since Aunt Ruth reoeived and sent a valentine. And the 14th of February, 1879, when it comes, will find the sun shining on no happier child than little “Drat-you-Bab'’ no prouder boy than “Valentino Dick,” who occupies the responsible post of errand boy in Friend Bradley’s office; no more'peaceful heart than Aunt Jtuth’s; and certainly he would fail to spy out, with his strongest beams, a more dignified, undismayed, constitutional grumbler than poor old Dinah, who pets or scolds the two ohildren as inclination and opportunity dictate, and who sums up the whole matter in these words: “’Sometimes children is a comfort, and sometimes they is an aggravation. Them two—them two wallentines —is awearin’ the life out of my bones, poor orphanless things! But Missus Ruth is so sot in her ways that I’ve got to have’em round under foot to the end of time, if the Lo’d spares us!”— Mrs. Lucy M. Rlinn, in Wide-Awake.