Roe_What_Can_She_Do.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
a little impressive nudge,
"see whar de white rose come from--right up out of de brack, ugly
ground."
concluded his argument and made his point, the simple orator
began his application, and was leaning toward him in her
interest.
" good , he make it grow to show what can do for us.
," he said, in an awed whisper, "my ole heart was as brack as dat
ground, but de blessed turn it as white as dis rose. ,
' bless her, telled me 'bout , and 'se found it all true. ,
doesn't know 'bout it? knows dat de good can turn de
brackest heart in de world jes like dis rose, make it white and pure,
and fill it up wid de sweetness of lub. knows all 'bout it."
spoke with the power of absolute certainty and strong feeling,
therefore his hearer was deeply moved.
"," she said, coming close to him, and putting her hand on his
shoulder, "do you think could turn my heart white?"
", ," answered he, stoutly. " as easy as make dis
white rose grow."
" you mind asking ? seems to me would rather pray out
here among the flowers," she said, in low, tremulous tones.
concluded his simple, but most effective, service by
kneeling down by his pulpit, the rosebush, and praying:
" , guv dis dear chile a new heart, 'cause she wants it,
and you wants her to hab it. it pure and full of lub. can do
it, dear . knows you can. , jes please do it.
__."
's responsive "" was like a note from an harp.
"," said she, looking wistfully at him, " think feel
better. think feel it growing white."
" jes look here, ," said he, giving her a bit of pastoral
counsel before going back to his work, "don't you keep lookin' at your
heart, and seein' how it feels, or you'll get discouraged. dis
rose agin? don't look at itself. jes looks up at de sun. you
look straight at , and your heart grow whiter ebery day."
and the flower did gradually lead poor to who
"taketh away the sins of the world," and said to her as to one of
old, " faith hath saved thee; go in peace."
the evening of the 14th of , had more than enough to pay
the interest due on the 15th, and she was most anxious to have it
settled. was standing at the gate waiting for to join her
as escort, when she saw coming toward her. had not
looked at her since that dreadful afternoon, and was now about to pass
her without notice, though from his manner she saw he was conscious of
her presence. looked so worn and changed that her heart yearned
toward him. sudden thought occurred to her, and she said:
". ."
kept right on, and paid no heed to her.
was a mingling of indignation and pathos in her voice when she
spoke again.
" appeal to you as a woman, and no matter what am, if you are a
true man, you will listen."
was that in her tone and manner that reminded him of the dark
rainy night when they first met.
turned instantly, but he approached her with a cold, silent bow.
" must go to the village to-night. wish your protection," she said,
in a voice she tried vainly to render steady.
again bowed silently, and they walked to the village together
without a word. came out in time to see them disappear down
the road, one on one side of it, and one on the other.
" now, dey's both quar," he said, scratching his white head with
perplexity, "but one ting is mighty sartin, 'se glad my ole jints is
saved dat tramp."
stopped at the door of . 's office, and , for the
first time, spoke hastily:
" can't go in there."
" hope you are not afraid," said , in a tone that made him step
forward quick enough.
. looked as if he could not believe his eyes, but gave
him no time to collect his wits, but by the following little speech
quite overwhelmed both him and , though with different emotions.
", sir, is the interest due on the mortgage. is a slight
explanation due you and also this gentleman here, who _was_ my friend.
are four persons in our family dependent on me for support and
shelter. were all so poor and helpless that it seemed impossible to
maintain ourselves in independence. make a proposition through my
mother, never to me, that might be called generous if it had not been
coupled with certain threats of prompt foreclosure if not accepted.
an hour of weakness and for the sake of the others, said to my
mother, never to you, that if could not pay the interest and could
not support the family, would marry you. did very wrong, and
became so unhappy and desperate in view of this partial promise, that
thought should lose my reason. in the hour of my greatest
darkness, when saw no way out of our difficulties, was led to see
how wrongly had acted, and to resolve that under no possible
circumstances would marry you, nor any man to whom could not give
a true wife's love. that time have been able honestly to earn
the money there; and in a few days more will pay you the fifty
dollars that my mother borrowed of you. please give me my receipt."
" remember henceforth," said , sternly, "that this lady has a
protector."
was sharp enough to see that he was beaten, so he signed the
receipt and gave it to without a word. left his office and
started homeward. out of the village said timidly:
" you forgive me, ?"
" you forgive me?" answered she, even more humbly.
stopped in the road and grasped each other's hands with a warmth
more expressive than all words. they went on silently again.
the gate said timidly:
"'t you come in?"
" dare not, ," said , gravely, and with a dash of
bitterness in his voice " am a man of honor with all my faults, and
would keep the promise made you in the letter wrote one year ago.
must see very little of you," he continued, in a very heartsick
tone, "but let me serve you just the same."
's face seemed to possess more than human loveliness as it grew
tender and gentle in the radiance of the full moon, and he looked at
it with the hunger of a famished heart.
" you made the promise to me, did you not?" she asked in a low
tone.
"," said .
" it seems to me that have the right to absolve you from the
promise," she continued in a still lower tone, and a face like a
damask-rose in moonlight.
" ----" said , "oh, for 's sake, be kind.
't trifle with me."
had restrained her feelings so long that she was ready to either
laugh or cry, so with a peal of laughter, that rang out like a chime
of silver bells, she said:
" the fat abbot in the story, give you full absolution and
plenary indulgence."
seized her hand and carried it to his lips: "," he pleaded, in
a low, tremulous voice, "will you let me be your slave?"
" a bit of it," said she, sturdily. added, looking shyly up at
him, " should do with a slave?"
was about to kneel at her feet, but she said:
"! you must get on your knees, come and kneel to my
strawberry-bed--you ought to thank that, can tell you." so the
matter-of-fact girl, who could not abide sentiment, got through a
scene that she greatly dreaded.
could see the berries reddening among the green leaves, and the
night wind blowing across them was like a gale from the .
" it not for this strawberry-bed you would not have obtained
absolution to-night. , ," she added, seriously, "here is your
way out of trouble, as well as mine. are near good markets. up
your poor, slipshod farming ('m plain, you see) and raise fruit.
will supply you with vines. will go into partnership. show what
a man can do, and will show what a girl can do."
took her hand and looked at her so fondly that she hid her face on
his shoulder. stroked her head and said, in a half-mirthful tone:
", , , woman once got man out of a garden, but you,
perceive, are destined to lead me into one; and any garden where you
are will be to me."
looked up, with her face suddenly becoming grave and wistful, and
said:
", will walk in my garden in the cool of the day. won't
hide from , will you?"
"," he answered, earnestly. " now feel sure that, through my faith
in you, shall learn to have faith in ."
did sustain the family on the products of her little place. ,
more than that, the yield from her vines and orchard was so abundant
that she aided to meet the interest of the mortgage on the
place, so that . could not foreclose that autumn, as he
intended. so woke her dreamy lover up that he soon became a keen,
masterful man of business, and, at her suggestion, at once commenced
the culture of small fruits, she giving him a good start from her own
place.
took the situation of nurse with 's married
daughter, having the care of two little children. thus secured a
pleasant, sheltered home, where she was treated with great kindness.
of running in debt, as in , she was able to save the
greater part of her wages, and in two years had enough ahead to take
time to learn the dressmakers' trade thoroughly, for which she had a
taste. a sensible young mechanic, who had long been attentive, at
last persuaded her to make him a happy home.
. 's prayers were effectual in the case of her husband, for,
to the astonishment of the whole neighborhood, he reformed.
remained a pale home-blossom, sheltered by 's love.
the blossoms she loved, faded away in the autumn, but her
death was like that of the flowers, in the full hope of the glad
springtime of a new life. her eyes closed and she breathed her last
sigh out on 's bosom, old sobbed--
"'s--a white rose--now--sure 'nuff."
and were married the following year, on the 14th of ,
the anniversary of their engagement. greatly shocked .
by having the ceremony performed in the garden.
" not?" she said. " once married a couple there."
. , . and . , . , . and her
daughters, and quite a number of other friends were present.
stood by the white rosebush, that was again in bloom, and
tears of joy, mingling with those of sorrow, bedewed the sweet
flowers.
stood up, after the ceremony, and said, with a certain
dignity that for a moment hushed and impressed all present:
"' 'm a little mon, sometimes ha' great tho'ts, an' have
learned to ken fra my gudewife there, an' this sweet blossom o' the
's, that woman can bring a' the wourld to if she will. 's
what she can do."