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THE RESCUED CHILD. 






BY MRS. J. W. SCHENCK. 




PUBLISHED BY THE 
AMEEICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YOKE. 






MANY on reading this little work, will perhaps think 
the opening scenes too marvellous to be true ; but the 
writer wishes to assure her readers that these facts, sub- 
stantially, actually occurred in one of our Eastern states. 



ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 18G8, by the 
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court 
of the United States for the Southern District of New York. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 
The Policeman PAGE 5 

CHAPTER II. " 
The Rescue 15 

CHAPTER III. 
The Mother aiid Son 22 

CHAPTER IV. 
The Unamiable Daughter 30 

CHAPTER V. 
> 

The New Home 3D 

; CHAPTER VI. 

Mrs. Lacy's Illness - 43 

CHAPTER VII. 
A Call from the East .- ;>;j 



4 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

India 61 

CHAPTER IX. 
Little Eddie 69 

CHAPTER X. 
Changes : -- 77 

CHAPTER XI. 

A Letter--- 87 

CONCLUSION * --94 



THE RESCUED CHILD. 




CHAPTER I. 

THE POLICEMAN. 



, if I only had assistance !" 
These words were spoken by 
a police-officer, as he leaned 
against a tree in front of a small 
dilapidated house, in an unfre- 
quented street, in the city of -- . 

The hour was fast verging towards 
midnight, and notwithstanding the bit- 
ter cold of the atmosphere and the icy 
condition of the pavements, the excited 
watchman had kept this position for 



some time, listening to the cries of a 



G THE RESCUED CHILD. 

small child, and the heavy blows that 
frequently broke the stillness of the des- 
olate place. 

As the words above-mentioned burst 
from his lips, a gentleman who was hur- L 
lying b;f paused, and hesitatingly asked, 
as he saw the star that shone upon the 
breast of the speaker, 

"Do vou need assistance, sir? Is 

/ 

any thing wrong in this quarter ?" 

"Wrong?" returned the policeman, 
"just listen to those blows, and hear 
that poor little child scream ; I am cer- 
tain there is villany there." 

"Why not enter and put a stop to 
this brutality at once ?" questioned the 
new-comer. 

"I could, sir, without doubt, had I 
the assistance of some kind-hearted fam- 
ily. What I need most is a woman's 
sympathy and counsel." 

"What are the circumstances of the 



( < 

i 

* * 



THE POLICEMAN. 7 

case, sir? I may perhaps know the per- 
son you need." 

"It is cold, standing here ; and as I 
can do nothing to-night, I will walk with 
you a block or two, and in a few words 
tell rny story. That house is held by a 
negress, and is one of the vilest dens 
in this city; it is the resort of persons 
of all ages and colors, and has been 
under my eye for some time, on account 
of its bad reputation. About two weeks 
since, I discovered that, secreted in that 
house, and probably stolen by the wom- 
an who detains it, is a beautiful white 
female child about eighteen months old. 
I succeeded once in obtaining a glimpse 
of the poor little thing, and I can as- 
sure you a more beautiful babe never 
breathed. The woman secretes it if a 
stranger approaches ; locks it alone in a 
small, cold room, if obliged to leave the 
premises ; and cruelly abuses it when- 



8 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

ever it is restless or wakeful at night. 
I have made excuses to enter to inspect 
the premises ; but though I can hear it 
crying, in what is apparently a large 
closet where it is suddenly thrust for 
concealment, nothing will induce the 
woman to unlock the door and let me 
see her babe. I have no proof that the 
child has been stolen, and therefore can- 
not arrest her, but I am convinced that 
such is the case. Sir, I shudder at the 
horrible future of that beautiful child 
if left in that den ; and I only \yait to 
find a person willing to adopt or care 
for her, before I forcibly wrest her from 
the clutches of this fiend in human 
shape.' 5 

"Can it be possible,' 1 exclaimed the 
gentleman, "that such depravity actu- 
ally exists in this quiet city? Poor little 
babe ! what fearful hands has she fallen 
into ! But, sir, I am quite sure I can 



THE POLICEMAN. 9 

point you to a lady who will assist you 
in this matter. Mrs. Lacy is noted for 
her benevolence and piety. She has 
wealth, and her heart is ever alive to 
sympathy with sorrow. She does not 
live in this place, but is now here for 
a few weeks, and boards in the same 
house where I reside. If you think 
best, I will speak to her of this case to- 
morrow morning ; and if you will call at 
my place of business at ten o'clock, I 
will let you know the result of our con- 
versation.^ 

"Thank you, sir; I should be much 
obliged to you if you will thus assist me. 
I confess I would like to rescue that 
suffering child." 

After a few words more, during which 
the address of the gentleman was care- 
fully noted, the two bade each other 
good-night, and separated. 

At the hour appointed the next day, 



10 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

the kind-hearted policeman presented 
himself at the store of Mr. Clay, who 
had conversed with him the night be- 
fore. As soon as his stout form and 
honest face appeared within the door- 
way, Mr. Clay advanced cordially to 
meet him, exclaiming with animation as 
he did so : 

"I am so glad you are punctual, for I 
have good news awaiting your attention. 
Mrs. Lacy was, as I felt sure she would 
be, deeply interested in that poor little 
one. So much did her kind heart yearn 
towards the innocent child, that she de- 
cided to see you herself, this morning. 
You will please step back with me into 
the office, and I will introduce you to 
my friend." 

Following the steps of Mr. Clay, the 
policeman crossed the store, and was 
ushered into a private office, neatly fur- 
nished, where sat a noble-looking worn- 



THE POLICEMAN. 11 

an about forty years of age, whose coun- 
tenance was a true index of amiability, 
benevolence, and refinement. 

"Mrs. Lacy, this is Mr. Hardcastle, 
the policeman we spoke of this morn- 
ing, 7; said Mr. Clay, as he offered the 
good man a chair. 

"I am glad to meet you, madam," 
remarked Mr. Hardcastle, "and if your 
womanly feelings can be interested in 
the rescue of a sweet little child from 
sorrow, I shall be truly delighted. Had 
I a wife and family I should not have 
asked assistance ; but I have lost all 
these home treasures by death, and am 
compelled to look to strangers for sym- 
pathy.' 5 

"You have no idea, I am told, whose 
child this is, nor how she came to be in 
the possession of this old n egress/ 3 said 
Mrs. Lacy. 

" Not the slightest. But it is a beau- 



12 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

tiful child ; its skin is as pure white as 
ever met your eye. I am certain that 
she never came honestly by her. My 
opinion is, that the child has been sto- 
len. I much wish to find a person will- 
ing to care for her. As soon as this is 
accomplished, I will go to the house, 
demand the child, and if not immediate- 
ly surrendered, will search the premi- 
ses, take it from its concealment, and 
carry it to the place of refuge immedi- 
ately/ 13 

"Mr. Hardcastle, do so as soon as 
possible, and I will take charge of it. I 
have means enough, and can give you 
every satisfactory reference as to re- 
spectability, and you need not feel anx- 
ious about its probable future. I do not 
say I will adopt it, as I have children 
of my own ; but I will certainly provide 
for it, and see that it has the best of 
care. Perhaps, if I am pleased with her 



THE POLICEMAN. 13 

appearance and disposition upon trial, I 
may eventually receive her as my own, 
but this remains to be seen. I make no 
promise that binds me to that course, 
but I do promise to care for her, and 
see that she is properly and piously 
reared. 75 

"Thank you, over and over again, 
dear madam ; that is all we can reason- 
ably require. I will merely say, that 
looks greatly deceive, if she does not 
soon find a way into your heart, and 
become as one of^your own/' returned 
the honest policeman. 

"We shall see ; time alone can deter- 
mine. But, Mr. Hardcastle, whatever 
you think best to do must be done speed- 
ily, as I leave this place day after to-mor- 
row, for my own residence, and must take 
the child with me if I have her at all. 
I merely came to this city to place my 
son in college, and see him settled in a 



14 THE, RESCUED CHILD. 

^ 

good home. This having been accom- 
plished, I must speedily return. Can 
you bring the babe to No. - - street, 

to-morrow ? ?; 

' I can, and perhaps sooner. I will, 
if possible, effect an entrance this after- 
noon. If so, and I succeed, shall I bring 
the child at once to you ?" 

"Certainly; I will remain at home 
till I see you, so that there can be no 
trouble. Poor little creature! I shall 
count the hours until I have her clasped 
in my arms. 7 ' 

Tears stood in the dark eyes of the 
lady as she uttered these words ; and as 
Mr. Hardcastle noticed them, he felt a 
thrill of genuine satisfaction, for he was 
sure that a tender heart awaited the 
poor little stranger. 



THE KESCUE. 15 



CHAPTEE II. 

THE RESCUE. 



j 



"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
these, ye have done it unto me." 

BOUT five hours later in 
the day, a carriage drove to 




the door of a large boarding- 
house, on street, and a 

person wearing the uniform of 
a policeman, and bearing in his arms an 
infant, around which an old faded shawl 
was wrapped, descended, and passing 
quickly within the door, was ushered 
directly into the presence of Mrs. Lacy. 
"Dear madam, I have brought you 
the sweetest little pearl you ever saw : 
Look!" exclaimed he as, placing his 
burden upon her lap, he threw back the 



16 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

coveriDg, and exposed to view a perfect 
picture of infantile loveliness. 

Mrs. Lacy uttered an exclamation of 
delight as she gazed upon the babe. Its 
skin was beautifully white, its eyes a 
dark deep blue, while its golden hair 
lay in tiny ringlets over a well-shaped 
head. Its mouth was almost like a rose- 
bud, so beautiful and fresh were its 
lovely curves, and the baby-laugh that 
greeted her ear as she first gazed into 
its face fairly won her motherly heart. 

"She is indeed a little beauty, Mr. 
Hardcastle ; but how did you manage 
to rescue her?" 

"I went directly to the house, about 
an hour ago, accompanied by a brother 
officer, and passing into a side gate, we 
went to the rear of the dwelling, and 
opening the back door which fortunately 
was unfastened, walked in and faced the 
woman, before she could realize our 



THE RESCUE. 17 

presence. The poor little babe was sob- 
bing by itself in a dirty cradle, while 
the neoress was working around, heed- 

O D 

less of its tears. The moment her eyes 
met mine, she darted to the cradle, and 
attempted to seize the child ; but I was 
too quick for her, for springing forward 
and seizing her arm, I held her back, 
while I demanded an explanation of 
her having in her possession a white 
child. 

"Laws! 'ta'n't none of your bizness 
I guess," she answered spitefully. "I 
cum honestly by it, I tell you!" 

"That I very much doiibt. Where 

*/ 

is the child's mother?" returned I. 

"Dead and buried, and she guv me 
the child wid her dying breff." 

" What induced her to give it to you ? 
Why not place it among people of her 
own color ?" 

" 'Cause she did n't, that 's all I know 



11.1! CliiH. 



18 THE EESCUED CHILD. 

'bout it; see here, mister, you let go of 
my arm, and clear out j this is my house, 
and that child belongs to me." 

"No. it does not! There you are 

*/ 

mistaken !" returned I. "It is my prop- 
erty now. The law demands that she 
be taken from this vile den." 

"You touch that baby if you dare!" 
shouted the enraged n egress, as she 

aimed a furious blow at mv face, but I 

/ 

dodged it, and it missed its mark. My 
companion then came to my assistance, 
and with his help I secured her in a 
chair, and then proceeded to search the 
premises, to discover even one little clue 
to its parentage. 

"And did you find the least relic?" 
anxiously inquired Mrs. Lacy. 

V JL V 

"Only this little gold necklace with 
the initials upon the clasp, B. D., and 
this note, evidently written by some 
well-educated man/ 



THE EESCUE. 19 


' ' To MOLLY CLARKSON : 

"I send you with tins, the amount due 
for the board of that baby. Such a 
whining as the parents keep up about 
the loss of the brat, is a great treat for 
me. Ah, they have rued the day when 
they dared to cross my path. Keep 
dark, feed the brat well, and when I 
return from the journey I am about tak- 
ing, I shall see you and learn how you 
have succeeded in your mission. Woe 
betide you, if my game slip through your 
fingers ! Remember !" 

"The infamous wretch!" exclaimed 
Mrs. Lacy, as she read the paper, to 
which no date or name was attached. 
"Surely we have clear evidence here 
that the babe was stolen from its parents 
solely for revenge. But what did you 
do with the woman ?' ; 

" After I had obtained the child/ 7 con- 
tinued Mr. Hardcastle, "and released 



20 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

her from her chair, her rage knew no 
bounds ! She raved and stamped, flew 
at us with all her fury, endeavoring to 
drag the child from my arms ; but the 
weight of Smith's club made her calm 
down a little, and while he inarched her 
off to the ' stone-jug,' as we call the lock- 
up here, I took the little one in my arms 
and drove to this place. I think, madam, 
that the more private we keep the story, 
the less likely the writer of that wicked 
note will be to track our movements. I 
am glad you do not reside here ; but 
where is your home, if I may inquire?" 
11 In Edgeville, a beautiful country vil- 
lage, but which I can readily reach by the 
public conveyances ; and I will leave 
to-morrow, if I can secure comfortable 
travelling clothes for the baby by that 
time, as you see these filthy rags afford 
neither warmth nor covering. But did 
the negress tell YOU its name?" 

O v 



THE EESCUE. 21 

"Not she ! I could not induce her to 
breathe it ; and as the darling cannot 
talk, you will be obliged to give her a 
name yourself." 

Mrs. Lacy mused a moment, and then 
exclaimed : "Her first name at all events 
shall be the one you gave her, little 
Pearl. Her skin is so snowy white, 
there could be nothing more appropri- 
ate !" 

The man smiled, and as he bent over 
the babe before departing, these words 
fell from his honest lips : 

" God bless you, sweet little Pearl." 

It was the first blessing that came as 
a ray of hope, to illumine the future of 
the rescued child. May the echoes of 
that prayer ever reverberate around the 
home and heart of the little pilgrim as 
she journeys on towards heaven. 

" God bless you, sweet little Pearl." 



22 THE RE'JCUrD. CHILD. 




CHAPTEK III. 

THE MOTHER AND SON. 

KNEST, my son," said Mrs. 
Lacy, as the hour for their 
evening meal approached, and 
she heard the footsteps of her 
son passing through the hall on 
his way to his own room. 

"Yes, mother, in one moment I will 
be with you," replied a voice from the 
hall, as the speaker ran lightly up the 
stairs to the floor above. 

Mrs. Lacy closed the door again, and 
smiled as she glanced towards the bed, 
where her eyes rested upon the curling 
golden ringlets that just appeared above 
the snow-white spread ; for little Pearl 
was there, sleeping sweetly. 



THE MOTHER AND SON. 23 

" Oh, I hope my children will not be 
displeased with this infringement upon 
their rights,' 7 she silently murmured, as 
she sank into a chair without noticing 

a o 

the entrance of her son ; and the word 
"Mother' 7 only called her attention to 
the speaker. 

Ernest Lacy was about sixteen years 
of age, and was a fair specimen of fast 
approaching manhood. Tall and finely 
moulded was this first-born of our friend, 
although his easy manners betokened a 



perfect unconsciousness of any such fact. 
In character he bid fair to be all that 
was excellent, having ever been a de- 
voted son, a tender brother, and a faith- 
ful friend. Undeviating in his princi- 
ples, moral in his habits, and of late 
truly pious, he had gradually become 
his mother's helper and adviser, as well 
as her greatest comfort in her widow- 
hood and loneliness. 



24 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

' ' Ernest, do you remember our con- 

/ 

versation this morning:, in reference to 

CJ ' 

that poor little babe ?" 

"Yes, mother, I have scarcely thought 
of any thing else all clay/ 1 ' he replied. 

"Well, my son, the little girl is here." 

"Here, mother 5 where?" exclaimed 
the surprised youth, glancing hastily 
around the room. Before she could re- 
ply, his eyes rested upon the golden 
rings upon the pillow, and crossing the 
floor, he gently raised the covers, and 
fairly started back with surprise at the 
charming picture before him. 

"How beautiful!'' he exclaimed, as 
his mother glided to his side, and laid 
her hand tenderly upon his arm. " She 
is a perfect cherub, and looks more like 
wax than a living child.'' 

"Then you are not displeased, Er- 
nest, at another looking to me for pro- 
tection ?" 



THE MOTHER AND SON. 25 

" Displeased ? Never. How could 
you conscientiously do otherwise, when 
you have those written words to guide 
you in the right path : ' Inasmuch as je 
did it not to one of the least of these, ye 
did it not to me.' No, mother, I am not 
displeased ; I am proud to have you ac- 
complish eo charitable an act. I will 
assist you in watching over her." 

"'Little Pearl,' that is the name I 
told the good policeman I would call 
her,"' interposed the mother. 

"Shall the other name be Lacy?" 

"No, iny son; I have not exactly 
adopted her. I do not think it best to 
do that now. We will give her another 
fancy name. Can you think of any ?" 

" Courtenay, Fitzgerald! No; both 
are too romantic. Stanley, Woodford- 

"Stop; you need go no farther. I 
like the last you mentioned," returned 
Mrs. Lacy. 



2G THE RESCUED CHILD. 

"Woodford, Pearl Woodford. Yes, 
that sounds well. Let us then decide 
to leave it so," replied the young man. 
"Ah, little Pearl, we will take the best 
care of you, my birdie. Mother, it is a 
pity you broke up housekeeping now, 
is it not ?" 

' Rather ; yet it enables rue to per- 
form a double charity. Our pastor at 
Edgeville is none too well cared for. I 
am almost certain Mrs. Colman and he 
would be glad to take this darling under 
their charge, as I will amply repay them 
for the trouble. She will then be where 
I can see her daily, and still benefit a 
Christian family." 

"Your plan is admirable, dear moth- 
er ; I trust you will find Mr. Colman 
willing, as certainly the little Pearl 
could never be in better hands." 

11 1 am glad you think well of the ar- 
rangement. In a few years I shall prob- 



THE MOTHER AND SON. 27 

ably resume housekeeping, and then if 
we find little Pearl an amiable, obedi- 
ent child, the understanding must be, 
that they resign her into my own hands." 

" What do you think Mattie will say, 
mother, to this new charge ?" asked Er- 
nest, after a long silence. 

Mrs. Lacv sighed before she answered 

/ o 

the question, and a painful shadow seem- 
ed to float over her face as she thought- 
fully replied : 

"Ah, Ernest, I am anxious about 
Mattie, she is so peculiar ; from her I 
expect my only trouble." 

Was that a prophecy? Can it be that 
even now, when the sunlight is breaking 
through the cloud that has enveloped 
the horizon of the baby-girl, can it be 
that a speck, a shadow, is looming up 
from the distance, and will it darken 
the future life of poor little Pearl ? 

The next day found Mrs. Lacy at the 



28 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

depot, on her way to N- -, whence a 
few hours' ride would bring her to Edge- 
ville. The sweet face of the beautiful 
babe was concealed as much as possible 
from prying eyes, by the thick folds of 
the veil that was wrapped over its warm 
new hood, while the tender arms of Mrs. 
Lacy encircled its fragile form. 

Ernest did not leave the side of his 
mother and her little charge, until he 
had placed her in a rather retired seat ; 
and even then he lingered until the 
warning was given, that obliged him to 
say farewell. 

" Good-by, dear mother and little 
Pearl. Do n't forget to write every par- 
ticular of your reception at home, for I 
shall long to hear.'' 

So whispered the affectionate boy as 
he left her side, and sprang from the 
train ; then as his light step glided over 
the snowy paths of the college grounds, 



THE MOTHEK AND SON. 29 

his thoughts went on with the devoted 
mother ; while the innocent, beautiful 
baby face of little Pearl often danced 
before his eyes that day, as he bent over 
his tasks, in the time-honored walls of 
the glorious old institution, where so 
many of his youthful hours were to be 
spent, and where he hoped, by diligence 
and application, to please the many 
hearts that were fondly waiting his suc- 
cess. 



30 THE RESCUED CHILD. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE UNAMIABLE DAUGHTER. 



j 




w ill not linger to enter 
into details of the journey, 
which was safely accomplished 
by our friend, but will pass 
on to her arrival in the beauti- 
tiful village of Edgeville. She descend- 
ed from the carriage, passed at once to 
her own room, and was apparently much 
pleased to find it vacant. 

"This is most fortunate," she said to 
herself. "I am glad Mattie is still at 
school, as it gives me time to rest, and 
to make little Pearl look as pretty as 
possible." 

Hastily throwing off her outer gar- 
ments she opened a large closet and 



THE UNAMIABLE DAUGHTER. 31 

from the capacious depths of a timeworn 
trunk, took out article after article of a 
little girl's tiny wardrobe. 

o t/ 

"Ah, Mattie, how lovely you were, 
when my eager hands arrayed your wee 
form in these garments! Now we will 
see how they become my little Pearl, 
after lying useless so many years." 

It took but a few moments to re-robe 
the little creature ; and the joyful smile 
that wreathed the lips of the lady as her 
task was completed, told of the utmost 
satisfaction at the looks of little Pearl, 
as she stood folded in fine needle-work, 
with gay ribbons looping the sleeves and 
encircling her waist. 

Mrs. Lacy caught the lovely babe to 
her bosom and kissed enthusiastically its 
little face, after long contemplating the 
pleasing effect of her newly acquired 
wardrobe. 

"My God," she murmured, "I thank 



32 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

** 

tliee that I have been enabled to snatch 
this darling from the clutches of that 
wicked woman. May she ever be a 
blessing to my home." 

She paused, for at that instant, two 
arms were twined around her neck, and 
the lips of a dark-eyed girl of fourteen 
were pressed upon her own. 

"Why, mother, when did you come 
home, and how did you leave Ernest? 
A collegian by this time, I suppose. 
But who is this?" added the young girl, 
as her eyes for the first time wandered 
to the floor and rested upon the baby, 
who now sat upon the carpet, playing 
with a pretty toy that had also emerged 
from the above-mentioned trunk. 

"Sit down, daughter, and I will an- 
swer all your questions. I arrived about 
an hour since, and am delighted to see 
my child again and looking so bright 
and blooming ; Ernest is now a fresh- 

^ / 



THE UNAMIABLE DAUGHTER. 33 

A- 

man in classical halls, well, happy, and 
finely settled ; and this is little Pearl 
"Woodford, a friendless child that I have 
taken under ray protection and into my 
affections. I hope yon will love her, as 
she has no other ties that we know of. 7 ' 

"I shall do no such thing! Love a 
little pauper brat ! not I, indeed ! I do 
not see what you brought her here for,' ; 
angrily retorted the young girl, her dark 
eyes flashing with indignation and her 
lip curling with scorn. 

"Mattie, restrain yourself: I took her 
because I felt it to be my duty, and in 
obedience to my Master's command when 
he said, 'Feed my lambs. 7 

"Pshaw! You always have some 
Bible to bring up! Where did you pick 
up the brat, anyhow ?' ; 

"My daughter, if you cannot speak 
more respectfully, be silent. Remem- 
ber, I desire you to be kind to this child, 



Rescued Child. 



34 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

and on no account to apply to it again 
the contemptuous term you have already 
twice uttered, under pain of my deepest 
displeasure. I obtained the child while 
absent, and intend to rear her with the 
same care I have ever lavished upon you. 
I shall educate her well, and provide 
for her in every respect. No opposition 
on your part will prevent it, and the 
less you say the better you will appear." 

Mrs. Lacy turned to her writing-desk, 
as she finished speaking, and hastily 
penned a note to her pastor, asking the 
favor of an interview that afternoon at 
her rooms. As she traced the words 
upon the paper, she did not see the 
hateful look upon the face of her child, 
nor the bitter angry expression flashing 
in her eyes, as she fastened a malignant 
glance upon the inoffensive little one. 

"She will repent the day she brought 
her here before very long, if I have my 



THE UNAMIABLE DAUGHTER. 35 

way," she muttered, as her mother left 
the room a moment to despatch a mes- 
senger with her note to the parsonage. 
"Love a beggarly chit like that? Not I, 
indeed! Mother grows stranger every 
day. She does not seem to have one 
grain of true family pride. The idea of 
taking a pauper to her bosom, instead of 
sending her to the almshouse where she 
belongs !" 

Here the angry girl fairly stamped 
her foot in a rage, while her vehe- 
mence frightened the little one, causing 
low sobs to issue from her lips, and large 
tears to roll over her cheeks. "Ah, cry 
on, little beggar, for all me," exclaimed 
the unamiable Mattie, crossing to the 
farther side of the room, and throwing 
herself upon a lounge, when one kind 
word would have soothed the baby's 
grief. 

"Mattie, I am astonished at you," 



36 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

said Mrs. Lacy, as she re-entered the 
apartment ; "could you not have amused 
little Pearl one moment in my absence?' 7 
'Not I, indeed, she might cry until 
doomsday, before I would soil my fin- 
gers with her ladyship.'' 

Mrs. Lacy looked sternly at her rebel- 
lious child ; then taking Pearl in her 
arms, she kissed her rosy lips, and soon 
by her foinl caresses restored the usual 
smiles and dimples. 

That afternoon, Mr. Column had a 
long interview with Mrs. Lacy, and 
seemed deeply interested in the story 
which that lady told him, in strict con- 
fidence, of the child's rescue from the 
negress. Mr. Colman agreed with her 
in the opinion, that it was not advisable 
to inform a single person, not even Mat- 
tie, of her real history ; fearing that the 
villanous man who had evidently been 
the chief mover in snatching her from 



THE UNAMIABLE DAUGHTER. 37 

the arms of her parents, should trace 
her hither. 

"But," he asked anxiously during the 
course of their conversation, "shall you 
not endeavor to find the parents, who 
are even yet, according to this note that 
you have allowed me to read, mourning 
for their lost darling?" 

"I shall, through the police-officer, 
Mr. Hardcastle. I gave him ample 
funds to advertise it in all the leading 
papers of the day ; application for infor- 
mation to be made to him. All \ve can 
now do, is to wait for an answer." 

1 Well, Mrs. Lacy, with Mrs. Column's 
consent, I will gladly take the little girl 
to our home and heart. I will speak to 
my wife immediately ; and if she ap- 
proves, which I do not doubt, we will 
both return in a short time and take her 
before dark to our home." 

"Thank you, dear Mr. Coleman. I 



38 THE EESCUED CHILD. 

shall rest contented if I only know that 
she is at home in so love-girdled and 
sunny a spot as the parsonage." 

In a short time Mr. Colman returned 
with his kind-hearted wife, to whom lit- 
tle Pearl instinctively turned as to an 

*/ 

old friend ; and much to Mrs. Lacy's 
satisfaction, the arrangement was fully 
completed, and the beautiful babe was 
that night sleeping close to the bed-side 
of Mrs. Colman in a crib provided by 
her kind benefactress, Mrs. Lacy. 



THE NEW HOME. 



39 



CHAPTER V. 



THE NEW HOME. 




home to which Pearl 
Woodford had been intro- 
duced by the kindness of her 
benefactress could in no wise 
be excelled for piety, comfort, 
and kindness. Mr. and Mrs. Colman 
having no children, the baby-girl imme- 
diately filled a niche in their house long 
unsupplied ; and her beauty and pretty 
ways soon caused them to regard her 
with a parent's true and tender affec- 
tion. She was indeed as a ray of sun- 
light to the toil-worn pastor and his wife. 
She was such a good and pleasant babe 
that they could not but love her, and 



40 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

her coming brought them so little extra 
trouble that they never had cause to 
repine. 

For hours she would sit upon the floor 
surrounded by her playthings, no sound 
save now and then a silvery laugh issu- 
ing from her lips ; while often she would 
play on until her eyelids would droop, 
and Mrs. Colman would be surprised to 
find her asleep, one hand grasping a gay 
worsted ball, and the other a brightly- 
dressed doll, while her golden head 
rested upon the sides of a woolly toy- 
sheep. 

No mother could have surveyed this 
innocent and pretty picture with greater 
fondness than did Mrs. Colman ; and gli- 
ding to the study-door, she would not 
be content until her husband stood by 
her side to sympathize with her feelings 
of fond delight. 

Twice every week a maid appeared 



THE NEW HOME. 41 

at the parsonage to carry the little one 
to the rooms of Mrs. Lacy, to spend the 
morning with that kind lady ; and ever 
upon her return would her tiny hands 
be filled with gifts with which to amuse 
herself until they met again. 

As months passed on, Mrs. Lacy found 
that the gentleness and amiability of her 
pet had won no small place in the do- 
main of her heart, and she looked upon 
her now with much of the same motherly 
love she bore for her own. Ernest, also, 
during his brief trips to his native vil- 
lage, found the darling golden-headed 
baby a source of great pleasure and a 
willing sharer in many a frolic. 

But Mattie still remained obdurate. 
No kind word had ever escaped her in 
regard to the child. No caresses ever 
fell upon its white brow from her cold 
lips ; but bitter reproaches alone greeted 
her mother's ear for her growing par- 



42 THE KESCUED CHILD. 

tiality to a pauper child, as she ever 
persisted in styling her protege. 

Poor Mrs. Lacy grieved sadly over 
her daughter's stubborn and uncharita- 
ble disposition. It was a constant source 
of sorrow to her tender, loving heart, 
which, could Mattie have reflected upon 
it, she would have seen and avoided. 
Children little know the anguish of pa- 
rents in view of their shortcomings. 
They little realize that their selfish and 
disobedient conduct is as a sharp knife 
to the hearts that love them best, as well 
as a deep offence to their ever-watchful 
heavenly Father. 

Time passed swiftly on, and as the 
child improved, and words came to her 
aid, and her tiny feet found their proper 
use, it seemed to her loving friends that 
the little wayside blossom became more 
and more attractive and engaging ; and 
as no answer had ever been returned to 



THE NEW HOME. 43 

the widespread advertisements that had 
been published in regard to her, they 
felt that she was now really their own, 
to bring up and train as they wished, 
and they blessed God that they had the 
will to endeavor to bring her up for his 
glory. 

In former days, previous to his settle- 
ment in Edgeville, Mr. Colman and his 
wife had been missionaries to India, 
where they had labored acceptably for 
eight years ; when the health of this de- 
voted servant of God drooped, and in 
order to save his life, he was directed 
to return to America for rest and resto- 
ration. For one year after his arrival 
he had been so prostrated that it was 
impossible to labor at all in his Master's 
vineyard ; but after that time a gradual 
improvement became perceptible ; he 
accepted a call to the church at Edge- 
ville, and there by his energy and ear- 



44 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

nestness in the cause of Christ he won 
the affections of a warm-hearted people. 
Of course, after such a personal knowl- 
edge of the ignorance and sinfulness of 
the heathen, the thoughts of this devoted 
couple often wandered to their former 
field of labor, and their conversation re- 
ferred very frequently to the manners 
and customs of the degraded people once 
their peculiar care. 

Little Pearl, from her babyhood, lis- 
tened with the deepest interest to these 
accounts ; and no story could interest 
her loving heart so deeply, after the 
story of her Saviour's coming and dying 
upon earth to save even little children, 
as the interesting accounts of scenes that 
had transpired in that far-off land. 

"Tell me a story, auntie," was ever 
the pleading wish of the little one. 

" What shall it be, my birdie?" would 
be the reply of the good woman as she 



THE NEW HOME. 45 

raised her to her lap, and pressed her 
hand caressingly over her golden hair. 

" Something about the poor little boys 
and girls that have no Saviour." 

Then, when a description would be 
given of the Hindoo mother throwing 
her babe into the Ganges, and the wick- 
ed Khonds cutting the flesh from the 
bones of living children to appease their 
gods by such fearful sacrifices of cruelty 
and blood, tears of sympathy and horror 
would flow over her little cheeks, and 
she would exclaim : 

"Oh, dear auntie, will not God let 
me go, when I am old enough, to tell 
them about our blessed Jesus? Will he 
not let me save the lives of some. of these 
poor little things?" 

"Yes, Pearl, if you really wish it then, 
probably he will allow you to become a 
missionary." 

" But what shall I do to help them 



46 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

before that time comes, auntie, so many 
will be dead then that are living now ? 
Can I do any thing now ?" 

"Yes, my child, you can pray that 
good people may go to them, and you 
can still give part of the money mamma 
Lacy gives you so freely to send them 
God's holy word." 

" I have clone both these so long, aun- 
tie, that I should like something new." 

"Very likely ; but, Pearl, the heathen 
are there still, and daily prayers are 
necessary, and money must be sent all 
the time, or the missionaries cannot live, 
and the Bible cannot be given them," 
replied Mrs. Colman. 

"Dear auntie, I did not mean to stop 
praying, neither did I intend to keep 
back my money, only I should like to be 
doing something to prepare me for going 
by-and-by." 

"Well, dear, how would you like to 



THE NEW HOME. 47 

learii to speak their language ? That 
would be getting ready very fast." 

" Would it, auntie? Then let us be- 
gin to-day. You will teach me, will you 
not ? And you remember I have caught 
some words from uncle and you already." 

"Yes, Pearl, that would be quite an 
assistance." 

So, notwithstanding little Pearl was 
only seven years old, every day she 
tried to learn a little of the, heathen lan- 
guage ; and being very quick at commit- 
ting to memory, and her memory being 
very retentive, it was remarkable what 
progress she made in mastering the sim- 
ple words her kind instructress selected 
to teach and amuse her. 



48 THE EESCUED CHILD. 




CHAPTEE VI. 



. ACY'S LLNESS. 



HIS dear little girl did not 
neglect learning to read her 
own mother-tongue, while she 
strove to remember what she 
heard of this heathen language ; 
for at three years of age she could spell 
words of one syllable, and now at seven 
she read distinctly and well. From her 
babyhood she had shown she had fine 
talents, and Mrs. Colman often was 
obliged to take away her book, fearing 
that such application in her early years 
would injure her health ; and now so 
eager was she to do something like mis- 
sionary work, that Mrs. Colman could 
scarcely control her in her eager haste to 



MRS. LACY'S ILLNESS. 49 

learn the meaning of the strange-sound- 
ing words often spoken in the family. 

Mrs. Lacy was greatly surprised one 
day, when Pearl was passing the morn- 
ing with her, to hear the little one go 
from article to article around, and call 
each one by the name Mrs. Colman had 
taught her. 

"Why, Pearl, what is that you are 
saying? 7 ' she asked finally, as the child 
had placed "Daisy, 71 her doll, upon a 
chair ; and with blue eyes sparkling and 
little hands gesturing with excitement 
she stood before her, pouring out some- 
thing that seemed incomprehensible non- 
sense to the matter-of-fact woman. 

"Why, mamma Lacy 7 -for thus her 
benefactress had taught her to call her- 
" do n 7 t you know? I am making be- 
lieve that Daisy is a poor little Hindoo 
child, and I was trying to tell her about 
Jesus. 7 ' 

Rescued Child. -i 



50 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

"But what language is Daisy sup- 
posed to understand ?" 

"The language the people speak 
where uncle was." 

"But can you talk it?" 

" Just a little bit, mamma. Auntie is 
teaching me, and I can say a few words 
now." 

"But why do you want to talk like 
the heathen ? What possible good can 
it do you ?" 

" mamma, so much, so very much ; 
for I am going to be a missionary when 
I grow up ; so when I get to India I 
must know how to speak their words, 
or I could not tell them how Jesus died 
to save their souls," replied Pearl. 

"Is it possible," thought Mrs. Lacy, 
"that this thing can ever be? Have I 
indeed rescued one of Jesus' lambs for 
so great and glorious a work? Who but 
God alone knows what good may yet be 



MKS. LACY'S ILLNESS. 51 

accomplished by this sweet and pious 
child ?" 

Yes ; Mrs. Lacy was right when she 
called Pearl a pious child ; for from the 
time she could lisp her baby words her 
heart was alive to the love of Jesus. 
The very thoughts of this little girl 
seemed to be sincere and lovely. Often 
her tiny form was found kneeling alone 
in prayer when her friends knew that 
something had occurred to vex or dis- 
appoint her ; and then, relieved by 
prayer, she would return with her sweet 
face radiant as the very impersonation 
of love and peace. 

When little Pearl -was about twelve 
and a half years of age, the health of 
Mrs. Lacy began to give way, and seri- 
ous apprehensions were felt as to her 
recovery. So rapid seemed the decline 
that her physicians recommended an 
immediate trip to Europe as most likely 



52 THE KESCUED CHILD. 

to benefit her, and Ernest made hasty 
preparations to accompany his mother 
and Mattie. 

The beautiful place which they had 
bought and occupied about two years 
before, was rented to a careful couple 
without children ; and as Pearl was such 
a comfort to Mr. and Mrs. Colman, it was 
decided to leave her still at the parson- 



age. 



Pearl seemed deeply affected at the 
serious illness of her friend ; and when 
the last kiss of farewell was given, she 
clung to her neck with sobs of anguish. 

" Good-by, darling mamma Lacy; 
God will take care of you, for Pearl 
will ask him to every day.'' 

Mrs. Lacy kissed her rosy lips with 
tearful eyes, then handed her to Ernest, 
who caressed his pet fondly in bidding 
her adieu ; and so they parted. 



A CALL FROM THE EAST. 3 




CHAPTER VII. 

A CALL FROM THE EAST. 

r 


BOUT six months after Mrs. 
Lacy's departure, Mr. dolman 
5- received a letter which made 
quite a stir in his quiet home, 
and would probably cause many 
changes in his household. For several 
days after its receipt, both husband and 
wife appeared to be in deep reflection, 
and spent many hours in fervent con- 
versation and prayer. 

The cause of this unrest was an ear- 
nest call for help from the station in 
India where he had formerly labored ; 
a stirring appeal that he would, if re- 
stored to health, come back to assist in 
their labor of love, "dome back,' 7 wrote 
his brother missionaries, "dome back, 



54 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

and help us. You and your wife, with 
your knowledge of the language, your 
love for perishing souls, your earnest 
zeal in the cause of Christ, are the very 
ones we pray for and long to welcome. 
Brother, sister in the Lord, docs not this 
call find such an answering chord in 
your own hearts, that it will induce you 
to make the sacrifice, and listen once 
more to the urgent appeals of your far- 
off friends ?" 

After long and deliberate reflection, 
it became evident to this pious couple 
that it was their duty to obey this call 
of Providence, and once more become 
laborers in the foreign missionary field. 
But one obstacle presented itself, and 
that was the presence of little Pearl ; 
and the trust reposed in them by Mrs. 
Lacy, who was to remain some time in 
Italy, as that climate seemed to be most 
beneficial to her health. 



A CALL FROM THE EAST. 55 

One day the subject was accidentally 
spoken of in the presence of Pearl, and 
both were amazed at the earnestness of 
her pleading that they should go at once 
to the poor, dying heathen, and take her 
with them. 

"0 dear uncle," she exclaimed, with 
tears in her eyes ; " you surely will not 
refuse to let me go. You know I have 
always said I should be a missionary. I 
know some of the language now, enough 
to talk to the little ones, and I have 
prayed so long that God would let me 
go to these ignorant people. Uncle, if 
you do decide to go, you will surely 
take your Pearl." 

"Dear child, I would gladly take you, 
but mamma Lacy might not like it." 

" I told her a long time before she 
went away," returned Pearl, "that God 
was going to make me a missionary when 
I grew up. Pray, let me go, dear un- 



56 THE KESCUED CHILD. 

cle, I may never grow up. I can do 
some good I am sure to the children, 
and I know mamma will not object." 

" Well, Pearl, I will write and con- 
sult with her about it." 

"May I write a little bit also, and 
ask her for myself?" said the little girl 
eagerly. 

"You may, my darling ; but you must 
commence immediately, as I shall soon 
be ready to write my own letter." 

Away bounded little Pearl to seek 
her auntie and write her letter, which 
shows how anxious this dear child was 
to do something for Jesus. 

"My OWN DEAR MAMMA: As uncle 
says I may write a letter and send with 
his, I am going to hurry as fast as possi- 
ble to get it ready, so that I need not 
keep him waiting. Dear mamma, I have 
such a very great favor to ask of you, 
and I am so anxious to have you con- 



A CALL FKOM THE EAST. 57 

sent to it. Uncle will tell you that lie 
thinks of going back to India as a mis- 
sionary, and I wish very much to go 
with him. I feel so sorry for those poor 
people who have no Bible and no Jesus 
to love, and I want to carry them the 
good news that Jesus died to take them 
to heaven ; and perhaps they will believe 
it, if they see a little girl come so far to 
teach them this. I could talk a little to 
them now. auntie says ; I know now so 
many words used by them. Mamma 
Lacy, let me go, and I will always be 
thankful to you, and God will love you 



for it too. I cannot write any more 
now. With much love to brother Er- 
nest and Mattle, I am ever your own 
little girl. 

"PEABL WOODFOBD." 

Mr. Colman's letter was longer and 
more definite. He explained to his ab- 
sent friend the considerations that had 



58 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

induced himself and Mrs. Colman to 
think it their duty to return to their 
former field of labor, and left it with 
her to decide what should be done with 
Pearl; expressing', at the same time, 
their deep anxiety to take the child with 
them, and Pearl's great desire not to 
be separated from them. He told Mrs. 
Lacy how the little girl had prayed to 
become a missionary, using all her fee- 
ble endeavors to fit herself for this work, 
and now, how she implored them to 
allow her to accompany them. He 
closed his letter by urging an immedi- 
ate reply, promising, if she consented 
to her going, to take the most faithful 
charge of her ; to watch over her health, 
and in case she drooped, to return her 
to Mrs. Lacy's fostering care whenever 
an opportunity offered." 

Some time elapsed before a letter was 
received in reply, and then as it was 



A CALL FEOM THE EAST. 59 

handed to Mr. Oolman, Pearl turned 
deadly pale with the excitement and 
the fear that her request had been de- 
nied. 

To her great jo}", however, it con- 
tained Mrs. Lacy's consent, as her health 
continued too precarious for her to re- 
turn to take charge of her. 

" I know, my dear pastor, your affec- 
tion for our little girl, and your devoted 
love to the cause of Christ. I am per- 
fectly satisfied to leave her with you 
wherever you go, and to commend you 
both to the kind care of our heavenly 
Father. That Pearl will be a comfort 
to you when far away from your native 
land I well know ; and that she may be 
of some service to the ignorant and per- 
ishing heathen children, is my fervent 
prayer. I shall still continue to send 
her ample spending-inoney, and your- 
self the yearly allowance I have always 

!/ */ V 



60 THE EESCUED CHILD. 

made you, in return for your labor of 
love towards my darling. In case of 
my death, my will provides handsomely 
for her future ; and you also, kind friend, 
are there remembered. God bless you 
and your wife in this great undertaking. 
I would that I could see you before you 
sail, that I might bid you farewell, and 
fold my precious Pearl once more to my 
bosom. Dear child ! dearer now than 
ever to my heart ; may Jesus watch over 
her and guard her for ever. Farewell. 

"OLIVE M. LACY." 



INDIA. 61 



CHAPTEE VIII. 



J 



NDIA. 




r 

LL alone on the broad, deep 
ocean, the noble ship " Fly- 
ing Fawn' was proudly sail- 
ing, cleaving the foam-crested 
waves, now riding high on a 
rolling billow, then darting with a swift, 
bold plunge deep into a yawning chasm 
that opened below. 

On board that vessel bound for "In- 
dia's coral strand, ' : were the Rev. Mr. 
Colman, his wife, and little Pearl Wood- 
ford. Though in the first part of their 
voyage they were dreadfully sea-sick, 
yet they were patient and hopeful du- 
ring it all. At length the, stately ship 
had been over four months on the roll- 



62 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

ing deep, and was fast Hearing their 
desired haven. 

What a happy and blessed thing it is, 
after a season of clanger and trial, to 
know that the haven of our hopes is 
close at hand. Thus is it with all Chris- 
tians ; they have been tossing about on 
the sea of life for many years, yet at its 
close they rejoice, for the harbor of 
heaven is but a little way off, and soon, 
very soon, they will be safely anchored 
there. 

I will not linger to describe the arri- 
val of our wanderers at their distant 
home, nor the joyful welcome that await- 
ed them at the station to which they 
repaired. 

Pearl was amazed at almost every 
thing she saw : the strange manners and 
customs of the natives and their uncouth 
appearance ; the very expression of their 
faces filled her with awe and dread. 



INDIA, 63 

But she soon became accustomed to the 
change, and her heart overflowed with 
joy at the efforts the servants of God 
were constantly making for the bene- 
fit of the poor deluded beings around 
them. 

Mr. Col man found that great progress 
had been made since he left the mission. 
Many conversions had taken place, and 
now quite a number of native Christians 
gathered in the comfortable buildings 
that had been constructed for their use. 
The mission houses were also comforta- 
ble, and Mr. Colman soon felt at home 
in the one set apart for the use of his 
family. 

Both he and his wife went heartily 
and eagerly to work, instructing those 
that came for instruction, and conver- 
sing gladly with inquirers anxious on 
account of their sins. 

The schools were large and flourish- 



64 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

ing, and in them little Pearl seemed 
perfectly happy. She would gather the 
dusky children about her, and often, 
hour after hour, her little tongue would 
run as fast as her limited knowledge of 
the native language would permit ; and 
her favorite theme seemed to be the 
preciousness of the Saviour. 

The children soon became deeply at- 
tached to "the little teacher," as they 
called her, and were never so contented 
as when listening to the artless words 
of this pious, loving girl. Many of these 
little children were so won by her ear- 
nestness and persuasive powers, that 
they very early became disciples of Je- 
sus, and their influence over others was 
of the utmost service. 

But I must tell you something of the 
strange gods Pearl saw worshipped in 
that benighted land. 

In India alone, there are said to be 



INDIA. G5 

three hundred and thirty millions of 
gods, of which one called Brahm has the 
first place in their estimation. They 
style him the ''Supreme Being," but yet 
never worship him, as he is supposed to 
be always fast asleep. In the place of 
Brahm the natives worship a multitude 
of smaller gods. But drawn from the 
essence of Brahm are three great gods, 
called Brumha, Yishnoo, and Siva. 

Then besides these, there is in one 
part of India, near Orissa, a very cele- 
brated god, called Juggernaut, which 
word means, "the Lord of the world." 
Yast multitudes of people go every year 
to worship this idol. Sometimes they 
go great distances, performing the whole 
journey by rolling on the ground. Thou- 
sands of people die on the way, and one 
writer says "that for many miles around 
it, the roads are strewed with the bones 
and skulls of the poor pilgrims. Dogs, 



Rescued Child. 



66 THE EESCUED CHILD. 

jackals, and vultures live on their dead 
bodies." 

Sometimes Juggernaut is placed on a 
great car, with enormous wheels, and 
poor deluded creatures lie down and 
allow these wheels to pass over their 
bodies, thus crushing them to death. 
Then again, large crowds gather them- 
selves around the temple of this god, to 
win his favor by torturing their own 
bodies in a most dreadful manner. 

It is the constant work of the mission- 
aries in India to endeavor to enlighten 
these poor Hindoos, and to induce them 
to throw aside these senseless idols, by 
telling them of the one only living and 
true God, and Jesus Christ his Son. 
Oh, how they work and strive and pray, 
far awav in that distant land, for this 

t/ 

great object; and that the Holy Spirit 
may help them in this labor of love, and 
many souls be brought to God through 



INDIA. 67 

tlieir instrumentality, should ever be the 
petition of all true Christians. 

Many a blessing has attended their 
work in answer to prayer, and even 
now, many a Hindoo has been convert- 
ed, and having died, is singing the 
praises of God in heaven. Will not the 
little girls and boys who live in our own 

o t/ 

clear country pray for the blessing of 
God upon this holy work ? 

Little Pearl prayed much for these 
poor, ignorant creatures, and she worked 
too, by talking to the children of the 
sinfulness of the practices they had been 
taught to believe so meritorious. She 
told them often, that killing themselves 
would never win a smile from Jugger- 
naut, for he was only a piece of painted 
wood ; but that trusting in and loving 
Jesus who died for them upon the cross, 
would win the favor of the one almighty 
God, and obtain a sure passport to heav- 



G8 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

en. Sometimes this would make them 
very angry, and after stoutly contra- 
dicting her iliey would sullenly run 
away, and not come near her again for 
days ; but a childish curiosity to hear 
more of the pretty stories she told would 
overcome their temper, and they would 
gradually approach again, to listen and 
wonder at things so new and strange. 

Then Pearl, who had ever shown a 
great taste for music, could sing very 
pretty hymns of praise to Jesus. The 
children, with all their ignorance, were 
charmed by sweet sounds ; and as she 
sang, often quite a number would draw 
near to listen. These opportunities the 
little girl seldom allowed to pass with- 
out closing by some story or word that 
would impress their minds or touch their 
feelings. In this way, even so young a 
child accomplished much. 






r\ 



liiw 

ARY 



3 
It 



LITTLE EDDIE. G9 




CHAPTEE IX. 

LITTLE EDDIE. 
s$L 

k_ * 

NE clay Pearl had accom- 
panied Mr. and Mrs. Colman 
in a walk some little distance 
from their residence, and in 
quite an unfrequented spot 
they were startled by hearing low moans 
issue from a clump of bushes not far 
off; and as no one was then in sight, Mr. 
Colman parted the leaves and looked in. 
Lving there, alone and suffering, was a 

t/ O O ' 

little native boy about four years of age. 
His features were pretty, and his large 
black eyes, as they were raised to the 
missionary, wore a pleading wretched 
look he could not withstand. The child 
had evidently been brought there sick, 
and left by some heartless wretch to die, 



70 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

alone and neglected by the wayside. 
He must have revived and crawled into 
these bushes, in his misery and despair, 
to escape from the vultures, which had 
already torn great pieces of flesh from 
his poor little arms. 

Pearl burst into a passion of tears, as 
she beheld these bleeding wounds, and 
she besought her kind friends to take 
the little fellow home. 

"I will help take care of him, auntie, 
and I will tell him if he lives, all about 
Jesus. Wont you take him, uncle, and 
let me call him mine?" 

Knowing as he did that the little boy 
had been deserted for ever by his own 
friends, Mr. Colman spoke kindly to 
him, and wrapping him tenderly from 
observation in Mrs. Column's shawl, the} r 
carried him away ; and finally succeed- 
ed in taking him safely to the shelter of 
the mission. 



LITTLE EDDIE. 71 

That evening, after the poor child's 
wounds had been carefully attended to, 
and its sufferings so much relieved by 
some soothing anodyne that he had fal- 
len into a gentle sleep, Pearl ventured 
to inquire of her uncle if he thought 
the parents would come for their child. 

"I am quite sure they will not, my 
dear,' 1 replied the good man, " as I think 
when they left him in that desolate place, 
it was parting with him for ever." 

"But supposing he revived after they 
left him, and recovered, would they 

not then carrv him back to their home, 

i/ 

if they found it out?" 

"No, darling, I am quite sure that 
they would never again receive him. 
Into the river Ganges, which, you know, 
is worshipped by the Hindoos as a sa- 
cred stream, mothers often throw their 
infants to be eaten before their eyes by 
the crocodiles in the river and on its 



72 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

banks. Sick and dying people are also 
constantly brought that they may die 
on its sacred shore, as they think they ' 
then reach a state of blessedness. When 
these sick and suffering ones are laid 
down by their friends upon the bank, 
mud and water are often forced down 
their throats, until they are suffocated. 
If any of these poor creatures should 
happen to live after being brought to 
the river, they are never received back 
by their friends, but are outcasts, whom 
no one will notice or assist.'"' 

"Dreadful! oh, how dreadful to think 
that such things are being done upon 
this beautiful earth!" exclaimed Pearl, 
tears of sympath} r rolling down her 
cheeks, at but the recital of such woe. 
That night she thanked God anew, that 
they had been permitted to assist even 
one of these forsaken sufferers. 

As time passed on, the careful nursing 



LITTLE EDDIE. 73 

and tender watchfulness bestowed upon 
little Eddie proved successful ; he re- 
covered and became a lively, intelligent 
little fellow, Pearl's greatest delight and 
pride. It was wonderful how she watch- 
ed over this boy, nursing him if sick, 
teaching him when well, and daily pray- 
ing with him, and talking to him about 
the nature of sin and the need of a Sav- 
iour. Eddie clung to her as he did to 
no one else ; and seeing the influence 
for good which she ever exerted upon 
him, her friends did not interfere, but al- 
lowed him to be her own peculiar charge. 

Eddie made rapid advances in learn- 
ing to read the next six months, and 
also early manifested a childlike faith in 
all that was told him of the Saviour 
while his obedience and gentleness soon 
won every heart in the mission. 

Thus a year and a half passed away, 
when Mr. Colman received a letter from 



74 THE KESCUED CHILD. 

Mrs. Lacy, saying that her health had 
been so far restored that she should sail 
for her home the next week, where the 
only pang that awaited her was the 
knowledge that she should not there 
meet her pastor and his wife, and her 
own darling Pearl. She had anticipa- 
ted re-commencing house-keeping ; but 
Ernest would not be at home much, as 
he intended studying for the ministry, 
which would deprive her of his society, 
except during his vacations. 

Pearl was always delighted when a 
letter arrived from mamma Lacy, and 
this one especially pleased her, as it 
spoke so encouragingly of the health of 
her benefactress. Then also, was not 
Ernest, her almost brother, about to be- 
come a laborer for Christ! What could 
possibly give her deeper satisfaction! 
So little Pearl carried her joy to the 
throne of grace, and fervently thanked 



LITTLE EDDIE. 75 

God for this great mercy that lie had 
shown her friend, in improving her 
health, and also for leading her son to 
the ministry of his holy word. 

Time passed on, months gliding into 
years, and still Mr. Column's family la- 
bored for the conversion of sonls in that 
far distant land. Through their uni- 
ted efforts, their noble self-denials, and 
their fervent prayers to God for the aid 
of his Holy Spirit, their work was much 
blessed. Many, very man} T , having 
been rescued from the horrors of hea- 
thenism and made a good profession, 
were received into the communion of the, 
church, and several learned men among 
the Hindoos became native teachers, 
and thus obtained great influence over 
the minds of the people around. 

Pearl was now nearly nineteen years 
old, and in all this passing time she cer- 
tainly had "done what she could.'' Sev- 



7G THE EESCUED CHILD. 

eral conversions were to be traced under 
God, to her, and still her zeal pressed 
her on, never allowing her to look back 
or to regret the course she had taken 
in thus giving up her country, and her 
former loved ones, for the sake of the 
destitute heathen. 

During all this time her own educa- 
tion had not been neglected, but had 
received the most careful attention from 
Mr. Colman, who was, in every respect 
a superior instructor of youth. Mrs. 
Colman also spared no pains in impart- 
ing useful knowledge to her fondly loved 
child. So that now, when so many 
years of her life had been numbered, we 
find her as far advanced as most other 
girls of her own age, who had enjoyed 
the advantages of superior institutions 
at home. 



CHANGES. 77 




CHAPTEE X. 



CHANGES. 



BOUT this time, in the 
providence of God, a dark 
cloud arose to mar the happi- 
ness of the mission, resulting 
in another change in the cur- 
rent of Pearl Woodford's life. 

Mr. Colman, the devoted Christian, 
the affectionate husband, and the faith- 
ful friend, was suddenly snatched away 
by death. 

That was a trying hour for Pearl, but 
nobly she bore up under the affliction, 
devoting all her energies to console and 
comfort the stricken widow, her almost 
mother ; while kindly hands, which were 
immediately summoned by the fright- 



78 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

ened -native servants, prepared the cold 
body for the silent home awaiting it. 

Heart-disease, that sudden terrifying 
agent of death, was the cause of the 
hasty summons to eternity of this loved 
and faithful man. 

Surely there were no hearts in all 
that station but mourned the death of 
Mr. Colman, for rarely had a mission- 
ary a stronger hold upon the affections 
of the converts than had this shepherd 
who had labored among them so many 
years. His funeral was a solemn and 
impressive one, and tender hands laid 
him peacefully to rest beneath the deep 
shade of the banyan-tree, in a beautiful 
and quiet spot within sight of his former 
home. 

"We see thee still. 
Thou art not in the grave confined ; 
Death cannot chain the immortal mind. 
Let earth close o'er its sacred trust, 
But goodness dies not in the dust. 



CHANGES. 79 



Thee, oh, our brother, 't is not thee 
Beneath the coffin's lid we see ; 
Thou to a fairer land art gone ; 
There let us hope, our journey done, 
To see thee still." 

From Ibis fearful shock Mrs. Col- 
man's rather delicate constitution could 

hardlv rally. Though she did not mur- 

/ / 

mur that this affliction had been sent to 
her by the will of her heavenly Father, 
and though she patiently bowed to the 
rod that had smitten her, still her 
strength seemed to give way, and there 
was an almost complete prostration of her 
physical powers. All suitable remedies 
were resorted to ; journeys to the more 
mountainous and cooler regions were 
tried, but to no effect; she continued to 
sink perceptibly and rapidly, and at 
length it was announced that nothing 

o o 

could save her life but her immediate 
return to America. 

This was a great blow to Mrs. Colman 



80 THE RESCUED CHILD. 



and to Pearl. ' To leave a work in which 
they were so deeply interested and so 
much needed, was a trial indeed. 

But there was no escape ; and with 
tearful eyes and longing looks towards 
the never-to-be-forgotten banyan-grove 
they bade adieu to weeping friends 
around, and left for the port from which 
they were to embark on the stanch 
old ship " Sea-Bird ; for their distant 
home. 

Before they left, however, they placed 
little Eddie, to whom they were so much 
attached, in the care of a devoted mis- 
sionary and his wife, who agreed to 
watch over him as faithfully as though 
they were present. The parting with 
this converted heathen boy was affect- 

I 

ing, and we will only add that Pearl 
ever continued sending him tokens of 
love, money, clothing, etc., until he was 
thoroughly educated and became a teach- 



CHANGES. 81 

er among his own people, where he la- 
bored successfully until he died at the 
early age of twenty-two. 

After their arrival at the neighboring- 
port, they were not long delayed before 
the vessel sailed ; and as the beautiful 
shores of this Eastern land receded from 
sight, as the tall cocoa and Palmyra 
trees could be seen no more waving in 
the distance, they turned away to hide 
the tears they could not control. 

Their voyage was a quiet and pros- 
perous one. Although they met the 
usual gales in rounding the Cape, all 
was safely accomplished, and in twenty 
weeks they safely reached their native 
shores, where Mrs. Colinan, in much 
improved health, was cordially wel- 
comed and cared for by her own imme- 
diate relatives and friends. 

On the third day after their arrival 
in port, Pearl was fondly clasped in the 

6 



82 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

arms of Mrs. Lacy, who had come to 

*> ' 

welcome her and take her, as a daugh- 
ter, to her own home ; while a true 
brotherly welcome was extended to her 

*f 

by Ernest, now the dearly loved pastor 
of the church at Edgeville. Pearl was 
overjoyed at meeting these dear friends 
again, and she returned Mrs. Lacy's 
caresses with heartfelt emotion. 

After the first rapture of their meet- 
ing had passed, and after a long and ten- 
der conversation had ensued, in which 
Mrs. Colman related to them all the par- 
ticulars of her husband's death, his fu- 
neral, and his deeply-deplored loss, Mrs. 
Lacy told Pearl that she wished to re- 

*/ 

turn home as soon as possible, as Mattie 
was alone, and that she desired her to 
accompany them, as for the future she 
was to reside in her family. 

/ 

It did not take long for Pearl to make 
her simple preparations j and after an 



CHANGES. 83 

affecting and affectionate farewell to 
Mrs. Colman, during which frequent 
visits were promised for this noble wom- 
an's comfort, Pearl set her face w r ith her 
early friends towards the familiar scenes 
at Edgeville. 

How quietly beautiful this lovely vil- 
lage looked to Pearl, as stepping from 
the depot into the waiting carriage she 
rode through the principal streets. On 
their way to Mrs. Lacy's home, they 
passed the neat village church, where 
Ernest now supplied the pulpit once oc- 
cupied by Mr. Colman. The parsonage, 
also, where her babyhood so happily 
glided past, looked just as it did when 
they bade it that long farewell. No 
pastor's family resided there now, as 
Ernest made his home at Maple Grove 
with his mother and sister, while this 
pleasant abode was rented to a worthy 
family. 



THE EESCUED CHILD. 

Pearl's reception at Maple Grove by 
Mattie was of the coldest character, and 
the young girl saw at a glance that the 
old animosity still ruled in her selfish, 
unamiable breast. 

She sighed as this truth was so un- 
pleasantly unfolded to her ; but turning 
sadly away from the haughty young 
woman, she met the loving glances of 
her clear mamma, as Mrs. Lacy still in- 
sisted upon Pearl's calling her; and she 
resolved to cast the shadow of this re- 
ception from her heart, and to be happy 
in the affection of this valued friend and 
her son, even if trials should be in 
store for her from Mattie's unkindness. 
"This, ;; said Mrs. Lacy, "is now your 
home ; to every spot in this house my 
dear adopted daughter is most affection- 
ately welcomed." 

Weeks went pleasantly by to young 
Pearl Wooclford now. To Mrs. Lacy, 



CHANGES. 85 

who was much broken in health and 
strength, she became a source of deep- 
est joy. Her piety, her good sense, and 
her watchful affection, were so different 
from her own daughter's wayward stub- 
bornness, that the wounded heart of the 
mother rested peacefully upon the love 
of her adopted child. 

As Pearl was now nineteen years of 
age, by no means uneducated, yet lack- 
ing in some accomplishments, it was 
thought best by Mrs. Lacy that she 
should visit a superior seminary, about 
a mile from Maple Grove, at certain 
hours, to take lessons in music, French, 
and drawing, and in each of these 
branches she made rapid progress. The 
hours when she was not occupied were 
passed beside Mrs. Lacy, whom she 
regarded with most fervent gratitude 
and love. 

On the Sabbath, a class of bright, in- 



8G THE RESCUED CHILD. 

telligent little girls welcomed her with 
smiles to the Sunday-school room, where 
they listened as she spoke to them of 
Jesus, and related many an interesting 
tale of scenes she had witnessec] in far- 
off India. Thus it may be readily seen 
that, although God in his holy provi- 
dence had recalled her to this land, he 
did not take from her the love for the 
missionary work that had ever been hers 
from her earliest remembrance. She felt 
that, even in Edgeville, the good work 
could be advanced by cultivating a love 
for this cause in the hearts of the little 
ones, and this she sought prayerfully to 
accomplish. That she succeeded, the 
smiling faces with which these children 
welcomed her instructions and presented 
their little offerings at the weekly con- 
tributions, bore a cheering and decided 
testimony. 



A LETTEE. 87 




CHAPTEK XI. 

A LETTER. 

morning after Pearl had 
kissed Mrs. Lacy good-by, and 
had mildly returned "a soft 
answer 77 to some unmerited re- 
buff from Mattie, and had then 
passed on to the seminary, a letter was 
brought from the postoffice to Mrs. Lacy, 
which she opened with wondering curi- 
osity. 

It was from Mr. Clay, her old friend, 
who wrote at the request of the police- 
officer, who years before had brought to 
her arms the greatest treasure, in the 
person of her darling Pearl. It was in- 
deed exciting news that she soon unfold- 
ed to Ernest, and afterwards to Pearl, 



88 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

who harried to her side as soon as she 
entered the dwelling. 

To Mus. OLIVE M. LACY : 

"June 20, 18. 

* : MY DEAR FRIEXD: After the lapse 
of so many years, it is a great delight 
to me that I am at last enabled to lift 
the veil that has hovered strangely over 
the vouno- o-irl you have in your charge. 

/ o o / / 

whose history has so long been a deep 
and impenetrable mystery. 

"A few days since, Mr. Hardcastle 
the police-officer called at my store to 
gain some intelligence of the child he 
committed to your care many years ago. 
I told him of her safe return from India, 
and of her quiet prosperity at the home 
of her first friend. 

"After this information was given, 
Mr. Hardcastle related to me the follow- 
ing circumstances, which he begged me 

immediately to communicate to you. 

/ t/ 



A LETTEK. 89 

"It seems that this worthy man was 
startled a clay or two since by receiving a 
telegraphic despatch, urging him to visit 
a certain street and number, where in- 
formation of the utmost importance await- 
ed him. I need not sav that before 

> 

night Mr. Hardcastle was standing be- 
fore the house designated, and was, upon 
ringing for admission, immediately usher- 
ed into a well-furnished room, where 
upon a bed, pale and suffering, lay a 
man about fifty-five years of age. When 
his name was announced, he requested 
to be left alone with Mr. Hardcastle for 
a few moments, as he wished to see him 
upon important private business. After 
all had retired, he asked Mr. Hardcas- 
tle to draw his chair closer to the bed- 
side ; then in broken, faltering accents, 
he asked : ' Do you recollect rescuing a 
beautiful white female child from a vile 
den in the city of -, kept by a nc- 

993744\ 



90 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

gress ?' Surprised at his recalling that 
never-forgotten circumstance, our honest 
friend replied in the affirmative. 

"'Sir, you see before you a dying 
man ; and the sin committed against that 
child and its sorrowing parents arises 
between my God and my poor soul, and 
I must confess and make every repara- 
tion I can, before I go to that ' bourne 
from which no traveller returns. 7 But 
before I go farther, answer me one ques- 
tion to relieve my anxiety. Does that 
child still live ? 

"'She does,' he answered; 'and from 
all I can learn, she is a beautiful, 'amia- 
ble, and pious young girl, now about 
nineteen years of age. 7 

" ' Thank God for that ! Then, when 
restored to her still mourning parents, 
she will prove a blessing instead of a 
curse as I so long intended. Years ago, 
I loved the mother of that child, and 






A LETTEK. 91 

sought by every means to win her affec- 
tions and her consent to become my wife, 
in vain. She despised me, and married 
finally the one to whom alone she gave 
her pure, young heart. He was a noble 
young man, good, benevolent, and fine- 
looking, from a family of wealth and 
high standing ; and this Christian couple 
are still living. You start, but my story 
is true. Horace Dunbarton is the father 
of the child you rescued, and whom I 
stole out of a cruel revenge for the dis- 
regard paid to my love for its beautiful 
mother. 

"'Yes; I stole that infant from its 
cradle, where the nurse had left it sleep- 
ing quietly a few moments before ; and 
without being seen or suspected, I hur- 
ried with it in my arms to a carriage I 
had in waiting, and escaped to the house 
of Molly Clarkson, a negress I had hired 
to assist me in my villany. Once in 




92 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

her hands, I was sure its parents would 

never trace it, nor have they. To this 

/ 

day they have never heard one word of 
their idolized babe.' 

"Here the sick man became nearly 
suffocated by a fearful turn of coughing, 
which seemed to prostrate even the rem- 
nant of strength remaining, and some 
time elapsed before he could give the 
particular address of the parents, in the 
city of , which I now hasten to en- 
close to you. Mr. Hardcastle promised 
the dying man that he would immediate- 

/ o 

ly communicate the intelligence to you, 
and through you, to those parents who 
so long have been left in suspense as to 
the fate of their child ; and by his re- 
quest I have written this statement. 

11 1 have never forgotten to feel inter- 
ested in the welfare of little Pearl ; and 
it is with deep joy that I write this 
intelligence. 




A LETTEK. 93 

11 1 will only add that the poor, sinful 
man died the night after that interview. 

''Thanking you for your benevolence 
and kindness in the past, I close. 

"Yours respectfully, 

"HARLAND M. CLAY." 

So our friend Pearl w r as no longer Pearl 
Woodford the unknown, but Blanche 
Dunbarton, the daughter of a well-known 
and respected gentleman. It was strange 
how this knowledge allayed Miss Ma (tie 
Lacy's animosity, and what airs of ex- 
ternal respect she immediately assumed 
towards the one she had treated with 
insult and disdain. 

But such was the case. Mattie was 
like many others in this calculating 
world, hard and oppressive to those con- 
sidered beneath them, but fawning and 
wily to the rich and lofty. 




THE RESCUED CHILD. 




ONCLUSION. 



} IME will not permit me to 
follow Pearl to the joyful 
moment when she was folded to 
the hearts of her own father and 
mother, to whom she was imme- 
diately taken by the affectionate hands 
of Mrs. Lacy and Ernest. The meeting- 
was most affecting ; many tears were 
shed, and many thanks offered during 
that tender and joyful interview. 

At length, at the earnest request of 
Pearl, as we must still continue to call 
her, she was permitted to return for a 
time to Mrs. Lacy, whose health had 

*/ ' 

been very poor for many months, and 
who was hardly yet reconciled to part- 
ing with one so dear as her adopted 
daughter. 




CONCLUSION. 95 

Mrs. Lacy did not linger long oefore 
she was seized with a severe stroke of 
paralysis ; and with her hands clasped 
fondly by Ernest and Pearl, she quietly 
fell asleep in Jesus, passing through the 
dark valley without much apparent 
suffering;; and though mourned bv a 

O 7 O v 

wide circle of friends, it was with the 
knowledge that death to her was inde- 
scribable gain. 

We must now leave our young friend, 
havjng followed her thus far on life's 
journey, and having seen the commence- 
ment of a course of Christian life which 
she followed to the very end. Not the 
least, in our estimation, of her works 
of piety, was the faithful return she 
made her adopted mother for all her 
kindness to her. It is grateful to think 
how she soothed and filled the heart 
wounded and desolate through the cold- 
ness and disobedience of an only daugh- 






96 THE RESCUED CHILD. 

ter, and how she cheered her in her last 
hours. 

We leave her, then, restored to her 
own parents, to whom she became very 
soon deeply attached, and with whom 
she spent some happy years, until her 
adopted brother Ernest followed her to 
her distant abode, where they renewed 
their friendship. Then as Mrs. Ernest 
Lacy she once more entered upon mis- 
sionary work, but this time upon the soil 
of her native country, in the 'capacity of 
the loving, faithful wife of a devoted 
pastor. Ever fervent, ever bright had 
been her missionary spirit ; and though 
she never returned to India's benighted 
land, she still found ample scope for 
doing the Master's work among the des- 
titute and ignorant upon her own native 
shores. 



