Newspaper Page Text
FEBRUARY, 1890.
anb <sirls.
For Woman’s Work.
NOT COMMON CLAY.
It was in the old Plantation days;
She was learning her Catechism,
Standing there by Grandma’s knee,
With never a thought to schism.
“And who was the first man?” “Adam.”
“And who the first woman?” “Eve.”
Thus through the “Scripture Question Book”
Did the child these truths receive.
Curled up on the door mat, Lizy Ann
Rubbed oft her sleepy eyes.
And tried to listen and understand,
And grow, like “Missy,” wise!
She knew when the task was over
They could wander where they please,
Down by the spring or over the brook
Or under the swaying trees.
“Now what are all made of, darling?’’
“The dust of the ground,” she said.
Lizy Ann started with a jerk,
Bumping her stolid head.
W hat a curious answer! Was she awake?
Here was something strange and new.
When “Missus,” sent them out to play,
Lizy Ann was silent, too.
She glanced at her little “Missy,”
So dainty and white was she;
“Made of the dust of the ground,” indeed!
This was a mystery.
She never doubted ’twas Gospel truth—
Os course Ole Miss must know.
She puzzled it over, in her slow way,
To see how it could be so.
But Lizy Ann solved the matter,
Holding up her dusky hand; —
“Lor’, Miss Tudie, I tink you been mek
Out of dis fine white sand!
And me”—in a tone of utter contempt
Regarding her ebony skin
“I mek out de black ribber mud,
What de turtle puddle in!”
Martha B. Marshall.
For Woman’s Work.
A FAITHFUL SERVANT.
BY MILDRED MERLE.
ERALD,” said Mrs. Wilber
to her husband, as he came
in to supper, “the trustees of
the Snarl Street school came
to-day to see if they could
engage Vera to teach the
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r />ayl F
IS
sum mar term. What do you think about
it?”
“Why, let the child go, if you can spare
her, most certainly, my dear.”
“But, Gerald, she has not been accus
tomed to being among those foreigners,
and they want her to board around, too,”
the wife replied, deprecatingly, as memory
recalled her own girlhood’s experience in
traveling the circuit of a certain “deestrick
skule.”
“Then think of the name, too— 'Snarl
Street,’” resumed the lady.
“Do ee street cars run on Snarl Street,
Papa?” asked thejunior of the family from
the position he occupied on the child’s
throne, the high chair.
“No, my pet, decidedly not,” replied the
father, smiling as he thought of the sparse
ly settled neighborhood where the services
of his . eighteen-years-old daughter were in
demand.
“Minnie,” added the husband, in a re
assuring tone, “I scarcely think the name
‘Snarl’ applies particularly to the present
inhabitants of that region. Most likely it
was handed down from some former dwell
ers—the ‘aboriginals,’ perhaps, as neighbor
Highlore sees fit to designate the natives
of this land. But if there should be snarls
remaining, trust Vera to help untangle
them. “You know Mies Prim insists that
she was always a peace-maker at school.’’
“Yes, I know; but, Gerald, think ”
“You are using that conjunction, ‘but,’
altogether more frequently than the case
demands. Minnie, dear, I know what you
would say, so let me have the privilege of
stating the case myself. You fear the
effect of these somewhat rough-man
nered people upon our gentle, refined
Vera. Permit me to convince you of the
fact, Mrs. Wilber”—assuming mock dig
nity—“that our Vera will lift the inhabi
tants of that benighted region up nearer
her level, rather than descend to
theirs. Vera is as good as gold.”
“And gold is needed for the heathen,
you think?”
“Yes, you are always working for the
heathen, now let your daughter aid in
the good work. Who knows but that
conversions may follow the child’s sojourn
in that place. You know she carries her
religion with her wherever she goes.”
“Yes, I know she does,” assented the
mother with a happy smile.
“And, furthermore, my dear,” added
Mr. Wilber, “it is like keeping a fish out
of water to deprive a Wilber of the pleas
ure of teaching.”
“Yes, I see—”
“They”—not heeding the interrup
tion, “are a regular-born race of teachers.
See how successful Clyde and Winnie have
been—regular chips of the old block. I
assure you that a Wilber is in his natural
element when teaching.”
“Yes, I have frequently observed that
fact,” was the arch reply.
“Certainly you must have done so,”
with a sly glance at his former pupil. “I
taught you to love, cherish and ”
“You needn’t trouble yourself to finish
that sentence. I see I shall be fated to
obey on this occasion, at least,” laughingly
replied the vanquished debater.
“Vera, your father is perfectly resigned
to letting you go on your chosen mission,”
as the daughter came in from a brisk walk,
which had heightened the shade of the
roses that glowed on the fair face.
“Oh, Papa, thank you,” said Vera, with
a vigorous hug, “you need not be afraid to
let me try it. But when must Igo for my
certificate?”
“They wish you to begin next Monday,
and as it is inconvenient for me to leave
my work this week, perhaps when the
trustees find that you already hold three
certificates, one of which you received at
the age of fourteen, they will engage you
on the strength of those. Then we can go
to the superintendent of their county for
one at our leisure.”
The trustees readily assented to Mr.
Wilber’s proposition, and said that the
superintendent would be around soon to
visit Vera’s school, and then he could
examine her.
One bright Monday morning, Vera enter
ed with ardor upon her new duties. The
schoolhouse was three miles from home,
as her parents lived just across the line
from the county where she taught.
She used to ride horseback, Monday
mornings, then release her faithful beast,
“Old Nell,” who was sure to find her way
home in quick time.
Vera won the hearts of her pupils the
first morning of school. She decided to
“begin right,” so read a chapter from her
Bible and offered an earnest prayer for
herself and the young souls now under
her charge.
Before the first week closed, her brother,
Clyde, brought for her use in school, a
little melodeon, which he had used while
giving music lessons, so there was a new
attraction at the little country school house,
both for teacher and pupils.
Vera was surprised to find the children
so kind and tractable, and she so won
their hearts that the children of the several
families could scarcely await their turns
to have “teacher” at their homes.
“How do you like vour new teacher?’’
asked a young man of Vera’s acquaintance,
as he met some of the small urchins on
their way to school.
“Oh, we like her good,” was the emphatic
reply.
Vera had always been accustomed to
having a blessing asked at the table, and
it seemed almost like committing sacrilege
to sit down at a table loaded with good
things, such as those German people know
so well how to provide, and no blessing
asked.
Although it was taking up a cross that
seemed heavy at first, when sitting down
for the first time at the table of her sweet
faced German hostess she said:
“Dear Mrs. Babst, may I ask a blessing
before we eat? We always do at home.”
“Sho,” replied the woman, clasping her
hands, but her eyes were moist. “Mine
Fader, he do dat, too, many year gone,”
she replied, visibly affected, “but mine
hoosband—it be unpossible he do dat, he
no lub de great Gott; he tank Him not for
nothings.”
At the next meal the husband was
present. As the family were seated, the
hostess remarked to her husband: “De
shool frau, she say de grace,” and all heads
were bowed as the duty was reverently
performed.
Having once taken up her cross so nobly,
Vera resolved to bear the same at every
house where the guardianship of the good
Father, the source of every good and
perfect gift, was unrecognized, earnestly
praying Him in whose strength the deed
was performed, that her humble effort
might be the means of influencing the
inmates of each home to render thanks
also to Him for all his benefits.
Eternity alone will reveal the results of
the good seed thus scattered broadcast.
Our little school mistress, not being ac
customed to idleness, helped her kind
friends, wherever she went, to do the work
morning and evening, even milking the
cows, when she could coax the owners
sufficiently.
“You are going to have a nice new fence
around your dooryard, aren’t you?” she
asked Mrs. Schnapps as she was returning
to the house with a brimming pail of
milk.
“Yaw, I don’t got no pride, but mine
WOMAN’S WORK
poys—dey vant sooch a proud fence. Dey
vants all dings oop de top. It tooks lots
moneys, but d«y moost hab.”
Several weeks passed before the antici
pated visit of the county superinten
dent, which was a memorable day to Vera,
who, with the help of the larger girls, was
just proceeding to make a furiousonslaught
upon the portion of America’s free soil
that had collected in her sanctum.
With sleeves rolled up to her elbows
and a large red crock full of water, a sup
ply of soap and old rags, she saw a sight
which almost took her breath away. It
was a vision of the grave superintendent
of public instruction, just in the act of
tying his horse at the gateway. For a
moment Vera’s spirits sank, but rallying
herself, she greeted the gentleman with a
smile, explained matters, resumed her
school duties, leaving the important
house-cleaning process till seme more
convenient season.
The lessons lor the forenoon were all
heard, and the session closed with a sweet
song, Vera’s voice and the little melodeon
leading.
Vera asked the superintendent to accom
pany her to the homo of one of the patrons
of the school, where she knew he would
receive a warm welcome and a good din
ner.
On the way he asked her a few ques
tions, which she answered, after which
there was a pause.
“Are you not going to examine me any
more, Mr. Williams,” was the question
that broke the spell of silence.
“No, Miss Wilber,” was the reply, “1
have already examined your brother and
sister.”
“Yes,” replied Vera, “but you know
there may be one ‘black sheep’ in the
flock.”
“Oh, yes, I know, but you don’t look like
that one, Miss Wilber,” smilingly replied
Mr. Williams.
“But haven’t you heard the saying that
appearances are deceitful, Mr. Williams?”
“Yes, but I’ve had a great deal of ex
perience with school ma’ams,” was
the reply.
So the certificate was given and the good
man went his way, with a pressing invi
tation tore-visit the school soon.
How various the opportunities for doing
good, are those of teachers, mending small
broken hearts and settling the tiny difficul
ties which appear so large to the childish
mind.
One sweet little boy in her school, called
Robbie, had been bereft shortly before of
a mother’s care. In the reading class,
with the little boy’s turn came this verse:
“My mother, when I learned that thou wastdead.
Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed?—”
At this point, sobs choked the sweet voice
and the verse had to be finished by an
other, while all hearts pitied the little
sufferer.
What a chance was this for Vera to
administer consolation to the little stricken
heart and point him to the good Shepherd
who, “some sweet day” would carry him
in His arms to the arms of his loving
mother, who, she assured him, still loved
and watched over her darling boy.
It was quite amusing to the young teacher
to listen to the samples of reading by some
pupils whoso pronunciation was somewhat
broken.
She endeavored, until her patience was
almost worn thread-bare, to teach a chub
by-faced youngster to read properly, these
words:
“’Twas God, my, child,” but the youth
persisted in rendering it in this way:
“’Twas Cott, mine zhild,” and all her
efforts were unavailing.
“Crapes do not crow on a tree. Dey
crow on a wine,” was another favorite
rendering of a passage in the primer.
Vera soon learned enough of their lan
guage to understand something of the
various families’ praises of her, which
subject they freely discussed in their own
language. They all respected her for car
rying her religious principles into every
department of life, and the good she ac
complished—“ The day shall declare it.”
The summer term closed, and Vera
returned home carrying with her the good
will of all. She was more than ever con
vinced that the name “Snarl Street ’ was a
monstrous misnomer.
A few weeks later she was again in
demand for the winter term, with the
offer of more than re-doubled wages.
“Inal! thy ways acknowledge Him, and
He shall direct thy paths.”
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