RESCUED by M. Louise Ford

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Feb 25, 1897

RESCUED

By M. Louise Ford

“Here, you, Jen, start your boots ’n’ see if you can sell any papers this day. And mind what I say, young woman, I want them papers sold; d’ye hear?”

Jen, a bright-looking girl of fourteen, hugged the bundle of papers tightly under her old and thin shawl, and flashed out of the house just in time to escape a rough push from the coarse woman who spoke; and the door banged sharply behind her, making the cracked and dirty windows rattle and the rusty stove send out a fierce puff of smoke.

She hurried along in the keen air, and in a few minutes was in the square, where she took her usual place and began her day’s work. Trade was not very good, and it was cold standing still; her hands ached, and it was hard work to keep the tears back as people hurried by and the bundle of papers grew no less heavy, altho she was doing her best to lighten it.

“Papers go slowly this cold morning,” said a pleasant-looking lady, stopping to buy one.

“Yes, ’um,” was the answer; but Jen did not look up; she was winking hard to keep the tears back.

“Where do you live, my dear?” continued the lady. “I often see you as I pass this way. Don’t you go to school?”

“I live with Mis’ Bumpers, down in Simpson Street,” replied the child, venturing to look into the pleasant blue eyes. It was very nice to have some one speak kindly to her again. But her heart was too full, and in a moment the big tears rolled down her cheeks and dropped upon her cold little hands. She tried to brush them away, but they would come, and the lady, seeing she was in trouble, drew her into the shelter of a building and tried to quiet her and draw from her her story. It came with many sobs, and soon she knew it all—no, not all, for the neglect and cruelty Jen had suffered could not be put into words.

A year before she had been taken from an institution by Mrs. Bumpers, and soon after the family moved into this city. In the sudden departure the kind friends at the home lost all trace of Jennie Hill. The girl was put to work and became the household drudge. School and church, which had been faithfully promised, were denied her, and the last straw was her being obliged to sell papers on the street.

This she had done for a week now, and her little heart was so full of the wrong and injustice done her, that the kind voice, the first she had heard in all that great city of strangers, caused it to overflow.

“You poor child!” said the lady kindly; “something shall be done about it at once. Now, tell me the number of your house and I will do my best for you. But you must be patient, for I must write to the home, and it may take some time to hear, but I’ll find you again, never fear,” and, writing the address in the little book she carried, with a few parting words the lady left her.

But the sunshine had sunk into Jennie’s heart, and her life had grown brighter for the kind words and promised help.

“She said I ought to tell Jesus about it, and I s’pose I had, but I’d ’most forgotten. I thought he’d forgotten me, too; but now I know he hasn’t,” she thought. It cheered her, and things looked brighter. The bundle of papers lessened, and Mrs. Bumpers didn’t scold quite as much when she went home. The thought of the strong Friend she used to hear about so much was a help over the hard places.

Miss Lane, the city missionary who had spoken to Jennie, knew just what to do in the case and how to do it, and it was but a few days before she appeared at her home, and, with proofs of all the neglect and abuse and failure to keep her agreement, she confronted Mrs. Bumpers.

At first the woman resisted, but, frightened because she had been discovered, she at last consented to give up the child, and a very happy girl Jennie was to escape her clutches and enter the new home provided for her in an institution.

“I’m just going to pitch in now and do my best,” she said one day to Miss Lane; and “pitch in” she did. Her studies were a delight to her, and it was not long before she made up her mind to be a Christian, and then she longed to do more for her dear Friend who had done so much for her.

A place in a training school for Christian workers was found for her, and she made the most of her opportunities, and after a few years of study and work she was ready to teach.

On last January (for this is not a fancy sketch) our little Jennie, now a bright and wide-awake young woman, set out for her chosen work among the colored people in the south, and what a glad and happy day it was for her! And with what earnestness did she say to her dear friend, Miss Lane:—

“Only to think of it, that I can go! O, how different it all might have been! Do tell people that it pays to save the children.”

And the friend whose life is spent in the work thinks that truly indeed “it pays.”—M. Louise Ford, in Child’s Paper.