BESSIE'S COMFORT.

Otago Witness, Issue 2120, 11 October 1894, Page 45

BESSIE'S COMFORT.

Shall I tell you a story of Bessie, a dear little girl I know ? A story of " once on a time," though it wasn't so long ago? A blue-eyed darling was Bessie, with gleams of the sun m her hair, And you scarcely could count the dimples that played in her cheeks so fair. Now Bessie's mother and father had only herself to love, And her presence was glad as the sunshine that fell from the skies above. There ne'er was a care or trouble that came to them any day But wee little Bessie was ready to " comfort the worry away." It was only a poor little cottage that Bessie could call her home, But dearly she loved the meadows where daily she used to roam ; And it happened one day that she went therewith many a sorrowf ul trace Of tears and childish amazement all over the dear little face. The reason ? Ah, only that morning Old Brindle, the cow, had died, And no money to buy another, and Bessie's mamma had cried ; . And Bessie had heard her father sigh, and oh I so wearily say Something about the "bills, wife, and little wherewith to pay." So oxyfc in the fields went Bessie, but left her dimples behind, And I guess that even the birdies knew something was on her mind. For she quietly gathered her flowers, nor even lifted her eyes Till a voice said, "Heigh ho, little maiden 1 " and made her start with surprise. 'Twas only an artist searching the fields and meadows that day For some beautiful picture to sketch, and what should come in his way But the sweetest of all sweet subjects— a wee little brown-faced girl, Her sun-bonnet hiding her blushes and many a golden curl. But Bessie was shy of the stranger— shy and modest was she ; Coaxing would not persuade her. " I'll give you money/ said he ; Ah, then, indeed, she was willing, and thought to herself, " Oh, now I've found how to comfort poer mother, and father can buy a cow." So down to the brook she went with Mm, her cheeks as red as a rose, And all the while thinking of " fathoc." Besiia learned, how to "nose.*

Oh ! but it was wearisome duty 1 The little round limbs grow weak. And a tear from tho blue oyc3 slipped softly, ancl washed the roso from hor cheek. Yes, " Art is pitiless," surely, for thirty long minutes went by, And then the artist had finished and looked with a smile in his eye At his poor little tear-stained model, "Why, child, are you tired?" said he. 'Im tired jus' for myself, sir, but not for father," said she. Then lioine sped dear, bonny Bessie, clasping her pennies so tight, Ana back to her cheeks came tho dimples, back to , tt her eyes their glad light. Oh^ father I I'm put in a picture ! See what I ye brought to you now 1 I tried not to mind being tired, 'twas for mother, and you — and the cow 1 " — Exchange.