Newspaper Page Text
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
SALLIE’S BIRTH-DAY PRESENT.
YEAR ago, when little
A-SRli e was two years old,
her father gave her a
‘gDU It’s color was bright yel-
K'Jlow, with little streaks of black on
his wings and tail, and he sang
J? beautifully every day.
Tj Sallie dearly loved her little bird,
and listened with delight to his
pretty song, day after day. She named
him “Dicky,” and after a while he seem
ed to know his name.
A little ring hung from the top of
Dicky’s cage, and sometimes he would
fly into this ring and swing himself back
wards and forwards, and trill out his
most beautiful song. Well, one day, about
a month ago, Sallie’s papa, while
walking in the garden, found some
nice young lettuce, and thinking it
would be a fine treat for Dicky, he
pulled a bunch of it, and put it into
the cage. The little bird seemed
wild with delight, and ate the let
tuce as if he were half starved, un
til after a while there was not the
least little bit left. But, alas! the
next morning Dicky’s merry voice
did not greet his little mistress, and
when we looked into his cage, the
poor little fellow was lying cold and
dead, where the day before he had
been so merry and joyous.
Sallie sadly missed Dicky, and
she had his little body buried in the
garden, underneath a rose-bush, for
she could not think of letting the
cat eat her darling little pet.
Sallie is three years old to-day, but lit
tle Dicky, who was given to her a short
year ago, is not here to gladden her with
his sweet song. But a darling little blue
eyed brother, with rosy cheeks, and the
cunningest little mouth and chin, has
come to her house during the year, and
we are afraid that Dicky will soon be
forgotten in the companionship of this
newer and dearer pet.
Sallie’s papa, who writes this, prays
that she and her little brother, and all the
little readers of the Weekly, may live to
see many happy birth-days, and that they
may constantly grow better as they grow
older.
musk lying among linen per
fumes it, so the real indwelling of God’s
Spirit imparts the sweet fragrance of holi
ness to the believer’s heart, and tempers
all his words and works. Christian
Treasury.
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
THE LOST BOY.
BY MRS. S . E . PECK.
LOWLY toiled the lieavi
ly-ladcn mover’s wagons,
as they” made their way
lßJljsr through the thick mud of
the public road, on their
W&Sr journey westward. All bospat
‘jgX tered were the coverings that
once boasted of their snowy white
ness. Merrily jingled the tiny”
bells that hung so gracefully above each
horse’s head, while, in delightful unison,
was heard the sweet music of children’s
voices. As night approached, the movers
arrived at a creek that crossed the road.
Here they halted, and made preparations
for camping for the night. The tent was
quickly hoisted. While the men were
busily engaged in feeding their horses the
women made arrangements for getting
supper. One little boy”, about five y ears
of age, was dispatched to gather faggots
for kindling the fire. Off he started in a
quick run, gathering a fallen twig hero
and there. He took no notice of his
whereabouts, so intently was he engaged
about his work.
At last, his arms full, he turned to re
trace his steps, but oh ! the anguish, when
ho found that he was lost. In following
the devious windings of the stream he had
lost the direction to the camp. Darkness
was gathering fast; he must be quick.
So he ran speedily” on, thinking he was
nearing the camp. On, on he ran, until
almost exhausted, he found himself hem
med in by the creek. Here was a fallen
log; this he crossed, throwing down his
faggots.
In the meantime, the father of the child
was busy in caring for his horses, and did
not notice the prolonged absence of his
little son. At last, one of the women came
to him and expressed her uneasiness lest
something may have occurred, or else
little Willie would have returned. In
stantly several of the men started in the
direction the child had gone. They called
him by” name again and again, but receiv
ed no answer. They searched until dark
ness and exhaustion forced them to desist.
Early next morning, they’ dispatched
one of their party to the nearest house to
ask assistance in prosecuting their search.
Quickly” the news spread from house to
house that a boy was lost. Every” heart
beat a sympathetic throb for the afflicted
father, and soon there was assembled a
large crowd, including the negroes from
several plantations. Men, on horses and
on foot, dispersed in various directions.
One party followed the serpentine wind-
ings of the creek. They” found
where the child had thrown down
his brush-wood. They r crossed
the creek, and still following its
course, they came to another log,
and here they’’ found a rag that
the brambles had torn from his
clothing. Farther and farther
they 7 penetrated the dense forests.
They saw a handful of autumn
; flowers and bunches of red haws
I laid upon a bank of moss, be
-1 tween the gnarled roots of an
\ old oak tree. After this, no oth
| er clue could they 7 obtain. All
i day 7 they scoured the country
[ for miles around. No tidings
| could they 7 obtain of the missing
; child. Just about dark on the
same day, a negro vms passing
near by an open field that was about three
miles distant from the mover’s camp,
when he heard a mournful, piteous cry,
and imagined that it was a ghost. He
made all speed to his home, and there
electrified a crowd by” telling of a ghost
that he had heard moaning, as he pass
ed not far from a graveyard.
Early on the following morning, anoth
er negro, named Henry 7 , who had been
very active in the search the day 7 before,
came unexpectedly upon the little lost
boy. The child was sitting upon the
ground crying. His little shoes were
pulled off and placed near him. As soon
as he saw the negro he attempted to run,
as he was now quite wild, but he was too
weak from want of food and his prolong
ed wander’ngs to run far. The negio
captured him quite easily, and carried
him in triumph to his father.
Door little fellow ! he gradually recov
ered, and loving kindness soon made sweet
smiles bloom upon his care-worn face.
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