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Sketches: Care For Mother
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) It was a very cold night in mid-winter. The snow fell fast and the wind blew furiously, but notwithstanding the storm the streets of C were crowded with people who had ventured out to, hear George Angell, a distinguished lecturer, whose services for one evening the people of C had taken great pains to secure, and it would not do to miss the treat.
Sketches: They That Conquer Shall Wear The Crown
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) 'I'm not going to Sabbath-school another Sabbath; that's so,' said little Effie May, with great emphasis, as she rushed into the house and angrily threw down her little straw hat. 'Tut, tut! What has happened to my little girl, to make her talk in this manner?' said her mother, coming from the bedroom, where she had just put baby on its pillow locked in sweetest slumber; and little three year old Robbie looked up wildly from his play, wondering, too, what had happened.
Sketches: Miles Granger
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) 'Anna, though you may not see or even hear from me for many years, I will be true to you, and I hope when I do return, that I may bring wealth enough to claim you as my own. You will not forget me?' 'Forget you, never! and I know if we live, all will yet be well,' and with these cheering words, Miles and Anna parted.Miles Granger was the only son of the widow Granger, who lived in a little, brown cottage near the outskirts of the village of Denton.
Sketches: 'Father, It's To Keep You Warm'
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) Phoebe Turner was not, I think, a very clever child, but she was a loving little girl, and liked to help her mother with the housework and the mending. Phoebe's father was a gasfitter, and he had been very comfortably off until he fell from a ladder and broke his right arm, and he was not able to work for many months.
Sketches: Lettie Lee
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) 'Please, ma'am, do you want to hire any help?' said a sweet, sad voice one morning, as I was taking a walk through the shady groves of Pleasant Retreat. 'Hire help !' and as I looked at the ragged, shrunken form by my side, and peered into that childish face, so early marked with care, I instinctively said, 'Indeed, what could a child of your size do ?'
Sketches: Night Brings Out The Stars
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) 'Mother, where are the beautiful stars that we gazed upon last night? I have looked all over the clear blue sky, but cannot find a single one;' and the lovely child looked wistfully out of the open window, up into the broad expanse of heaven, till the dazzling sun almost blinded him; but no little stars came twinkling one by one, to greet his earnest gaze as they had done last evening.
Sketches: The Beggar Boy
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) 'There is another one of those plagues; it is strange a person can't stir without meeting a ragged beggar. Nellie Dean, are you playing with that beggar boy again ? William, do order that insolent fellow from the gate,' said the fashionable Mrs. Dean, as her silks rustled on the broad steps of their stately mansion.The first part of her remark was to her little daughter, who had just given the little boy a boquet of the brightest flowers; the latter to the gardener.
Sketches: The Drunkard's Home
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) Around the last dying embers, in front of a smoky, stone fire-place, sat Kate and little Eddie Lee. A tallow candle was burning on the table where stood a few scattered, rusty dishes. It was but just dark, but the mother had lighted the candle for the children before she left the house; for she had gone, as was her custom since the evenings had become so cold, to gather wood by the wayside that he...
Sketches: Intoxicants In The Home
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) As we think of the crime, of the misery and woe, that intoxicants bring to humanity, as we see the darkened chambers, the grief-stricken mourners, the desolate homes, the starving children, the helpless famishing babes; the riot, theft, robbery and murder, all caused by strong drink, we wonder that anything so hateful, so vile, should be allowed a place in any house where the inmates were endowed...
Sketches: Out In The Storm
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) 'That story about the baby in the storm? Oh yes, I'll tell you all about it. See, there's the scar on his dear little forehead yet he'll carry it all his life, they say but I shall never get over being thankful he came out of it so much better than I did, the darling.' And Janet glanced at her poor crooked arm as she settled herself more comfortably for a long talk.
Sketches: Grandmother's Letter Box
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) Yes here it is, scratched, battered and worn, but very precious still. We carefully draw it from its hiding place and look beseechingly into grandmother's face. She slightly nods an assent, and we gently lift the cover and glance at the precious documents within - these sacred relics of by-gone days.
Sketches: 'Inasmuch'
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) Paul Berman's father had given his son a spot of ground which was to be 'all his very own,' as the little boy expressed it.Paul had planted his farm to water-melons, and, as the soil was rich and the showers many, an abundant crop of the finest fruit was ripening. Little Robbie, the six year old brother, had helped to pull the weeds, and, though he could do but little of the work, was always ready to help or to stand by for company while his older brother tilled the ground, and for this he was to have every third...
Sketches: Rest At Last
(Topic: Sketches, Short Stories, Inspiration) For five Years had Elsie Dale been gathered to her husband's great, warm heart; for five years had her head nightly rested upon his broad breast; for five years had his loving arms enfolded her; for five years had he shielded her from every care and sorrow from which a devoted husband could shield an almost idolized wife. Five years! and each year had passed to them like a swift-gliding bark down a rapid current, so noiselessly by, so rapidly, they could scarcely believe it going till they found it gone.
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