Creator:
Arthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay), 1809-1885
the cruelty inflicted upon the only one in the house with whom she
had a single feeling in common.
The girl quickly obeyed, and sat down on the floor beside the bucket
of water. She handled tenderly the blood-red feet of the little boy,
ever and anon looking up into his face, and noting with tender
solicitude, the deep lines of suffering upon his forehead.
"There, that will do," said Sharp, who stood looking on, "and now
run up stairs and get a better pair of stockings for Henry."
"What do you want with a better pair of stockings?" said Mrs. Sharp,
a few moments after, bustling down into the kitchen.
"Why, I want them for Henry," replied her husband.
"Want them for Henry!" she exclaimed, in surprise. "Where's the ones
he had on?"
"There are some old rags in the shop that he had on; but they won't
do now, with such feet as he's got."
"What's the matter with his feet, I'd like to know," inquired Mrs.
Sharp.
PREFACE.
WE were about preparing a few words of introduction to this volume,
the materials for which have been culled from the highways and
byways of literature, where our eyes fell upon these fitting
sentiments, the authorship of which we are unable to give. They
express clearly and beautifully what was in our own mind:--
"If we would only bring ourselves to look at the subjects that
surround as in their true flight, we should see beauty where now
appears deformity, and listen to harmony where we hear nothing but
discord. To be sure there is a great deal of vexation and anxiety in
the world; we cannot sail upon a summer sea for ever; yet if we
preserve a calm eye and a steady hand, we can so trim our sails and
manage our helm, as to avoid the quicksands, and weather the storms
that threaten shipwreck. We are members of one great family; we are
travelling the same road, and shall arrive at the same goal. We
"Why, they're frosted."
"Let him put them in snow, then. That'll cure 'em. It's nothing but
a little snow-burn, I suppose."
"It's something a little worse than that," replied Sharp, "and he
must have a comfortable pair of stockings. And here, Anna, do you
run around to Stogies, and tell him to send me three or four pairs
of coarse shoes, about Henry's size."
Anna, the little girl, disappeared with alacrity, and Mr. Sharp,
turning to his wife, said:
"Henry must have a good, warm pair of stockings, or we shall have
him sick on our hands."
"Well, I'll find him a pair," replied Mrs. Sharp, going off up
stairs. In the mean time, Henry still sat with his feet in the cold
water. But the pain occasioned by the snow was nearly all gone. Mrs.
Sharp came down with the stockings, and Anna came in with the shoes
at the same moment. On lifting the child's feet from the water, the
redness and inflammation had a good deal subsided. Mrs. Sharp rubbed
them with a little sweet oil, and then gave him the stockings to put
on. He next tried the shoes; and one pair of them fitted him very
well. But his feet were too sore and tender for such hard shoes; and
when they were on, and tied up around the ankles, he found that