File:Seedtime and harvest - tales (1859) (14780111354).jpg

Identifier: seedtimeharvestt00koch (find matches)
Title: Seedtime and harvest : tales
Year: 1859 (1850s)
Authors: Koch, Rosalie, 1811-1880 Burg, Maria Trauermantel
Subjects:
Publisher: Boston : Crosby, Nichols
Contributing Library: Boston Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Internet Archive

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lidays hespent with some favorite young companion,wandering among the hills and dales surround-ing the village, gathering plants or mineralsto aid him in his studies; for he had deter-mined to study nature scientifically, and atsome future day to be a skilful forester. Often, when wanderingthrough the forestsand listening to the songs of the birds and therustling of the leaves, would his mind sorrow-fully revert to his childhood, when he under-stood their language; and he never ceased toresiret that throuo-h his own fault he had lostthe innocence of his soul and the compre-hension of Natures hidden tongues. The stories he had heard during his moreintimate acquaintance with her secrets everremained in his memory, and continually re- 262 THE INQUISITIVE BOY. minded him tliat God is everywhere present,all powerful, just, and merciful. And henever failed to impress this upon the mindsof all the children to whom he afterwardsrelated these stories. THE LITTLE RAGMAN. A TALE By ROSALIE KOCH.
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THE LITTLt RAG-PICKER THE LITTLE EAGMAN. It was a breezy afternoon, and the windwas playing with the heavy black clouds ofsmoke issuing from the tall chimneys of sev-eral large factories, situated in a lovely greenvalley, enclosed on three sides by wooded hills.Along the fourth side ran the high-road, onwliich was now approaching a miserable littlecart, drawn by a powerful black dog, and ac-companied by a rosy-cheeked boy of abouttwelve years old, and a woman whose face,notwithstanding the heat, was half hidden bya large head-handkerchief. She looked veryweary, and as if her thoughts were far awayfrom the charming scene before her. As they reached the top of a little eminence,the boy stopped and gazed delightedly uponthe neat village with its red tile roofs and 266 THE LITTLE RAGMAN. pretty gardens. Looking up appealingly intohis mothers face, he said: Can we not godown, mother ? There is a manufacturing vil-lage ; you always told me that in such placesthousands dwell in want and mise

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