CHAPTER XII.

"The alms most precious man can give to man
Are kind and loveful words. Nor come amiss,
Warm sympathizing tears to eyes that scan
The world aright-the only error is

Neglect to do the little good we can

"Thou hadst an earnest choice

To look on pleasant things beneath the sun;
Sweet flowers and fruitful vines."

"But thy choice was made

In darkness, and thou know'st not what was bestHe knoweth-the Eternal!"

Mrs. Sigourney.

After Mrs. S.'s death I found employment with Mrs. G., who then owned "Washington College," now "Church Home and Infirmary." I worked very hard, and often beyond my strength. Soon after I went there, winter with its chilly blasts and howling winds set in, and I took a severe cold, which settled in my eyes. I could work no longer, and was compelled to go to my aunt and have them operated upon. I consulted several oculists,

and tried all the remedies prescribed, but with no success-nothing seemed to do them any good. While my means lasted my aunt gave me kind words of sympathy and affection; but no sooner was my little stock of money exhausted than her kind words turned to tones. of harshness and acts of unkindness. She even told me to leave her house, and go to my

cousin, Mr. H. He, she said, was rich enough to board me, and have my eyes properly attended to also. But I could not and would not ask them to assist me-one whom they had always treated with contempt. I preferred accepting the kindness of strangers.

"Those friends are the dearest

Who extend us their aid,
And who stand by the nearest,

When our hopes slowly fade."

Friendship is a sacred thing, and they who profess it, and then prove false to the duties. it requires of them, profane its pure name. There may be some who may think it wrong for me to speak of my aunt in such a manner. Should there be any such, let them for a few moments imagine themselves in my situation -a mere child in a strange land-sight fast failing, and a burden to one who had promised

to love and cherish me as her own child. Gentle reader, do you now wonder that bitter feelings filled my heart, and that it cost me a hard struggle to forgive her the many wrongs she had done me? But I conquered my rebellious heart, and freely and fully forgave her. I hope sunshine may ever shed its cheering influences upon her pathway, and may she never suffer as I have done; never be called to pass through the fiery trials I have been subjected to.

The inflammation grew more and more severe, and continued to increase until it resulted in total blindness; everything was shrouded in darkness, and no light could pierce the gloom. I could never again gaze into the beautiful blue sky, or behold the beauty of the golden sunset. The things I so much loved were hid from me; my darkened vision could rest upon them no more,

I was not only blind, but homeless; for my aunt would let me remain no longer with her. I was compelled to seek refuge somewhere, and could only find it in the alms-house. 1 cannot describe the emotions which filled my bosom when I thought of becoming a pensioner upon the bounty of the city. Oh how

it crushed my spirit, and death would have been far preferable. This is a changing life; many thousands now sleeping in the "silent city of the dead," those who were once wealthy and surrounded by every luxury, have gone to their last resting places from the alms-house. If its walls could speak, how many sad tales of sorrow and suffering could they unfold.

When I went there, I was conducted into a room where I was told I must remain until the doctors had examined my eyes. There were three women in the room, and when I entered one of them offered me a chair. Their language and conversation was so coarse and disgusting it made me shudder. One of them came up to me, and laying her heavy hand upon my shrinking shoulder, said: "What makes you tremble so? I suppose you are one of those butterflies who sometimes come here. I wonder why such people will come;" and she laughed a low, triumphant laugh. Oh how much I suffered from this cruel taunt everything seemed to be against me.

In a few minutes the physicians came in, and, after a careful examination of my eyes, told me they would be able to restore my sight. For a moment hope rose again in my

breast, and sent a thrill of joy to my heart. They urged me to keep up a good heart, and hope for the best. I was then taken into the room appropriated to the use of the sick; here I could hear nothing but the groans of the suffering and dying. It completely unnerved me; I threw myself upon my couch, and wept until it seemed my heart must break and be at rest. My nights were spent in tossing from side to side like a ship dashed about by the conflicting winds and waves. Whenever tired nature demanded repose, and I would fall asleep, I dreamed of gazing once more upon the beauties of nature-upon the scenes I loved, and of home.

Once more in the old home I stand,
And see those dear familiar faces,
The pressure of my mother's hand,
I feel her warm embraces.
Beside the softly flowing rill

I see my little brothers playing,
And o'er the green and sloping hill
My sweet-voiced sister straying.

With those dear loved ones, hand in hand,
I wander through the mountain passes,
Or pausing, twine with careless hand
A wreath of flowers and grasses.

I muse beside the flowing rill,
Upon its violet banks reclining,
Or climb at twilight's hush, the hill,
To watch the sun's declining.