WHITE VIOLETS. 
Ax Easter Offering, 
A very law, bleak, backward Spring; little heaps 
and ridges of very soiled snow lingered stubbornly 
along right under the warm sun's blazing face; dirty 
little rills of water ran trickling down the walls and 
walks, and the air was full of dullness and moisture. 
The very trees seemed slow in learning it was really 
Spring, and their buds would not unfold, and it seemed 
the world was never to be clad again in the fresh livery 
of lovely green. But the birds were pretty full of faith, 
and blue-birds and robins chirped loudly of hope and 
peace ahead; the blue-jays squalled defiance to old 
winter, and the black-birds chattered from the tree- 
tops. 
Little Paul Morgan said, with a sigh, he knew there 
was no use in looking, but yet, "just for luck ” and the 
established custom, he would go down into Van Uacre’s 
woods, down into the heart of the deep, shady dell 
where he and papa used to go for them, and see if 
by any possible chance one single Violet could have 
blossomed. 
That one spot in Van Dacre’s wood was a dewy, damp, 
delightful place in summer; and it had always been 
dear to Paul, in memory of the happy hours he had 
spent there with his dear papa before that papa died. 
It so happened that the last time they had gone there 
together had been the day before Easter ; and it became 
a. religious vigil for the boy to keep, to go the day 
before Easter and look for the rare, white Violets his 
papa had loved so dearly. 
Three springs now had come and gone, and he had 
never failed yet to find a cluster of fragrant, lovely 
flowers wherewith to adorn his fathers grave on the 
Resurrection Sunday. 
But this fourth season he went out without any hope 
of success. It was too cold; there had not been enough 
sunny days to coax the blossoms out, and winter held 
out too long. Yet he resolutely trudged on tlirough 
the snowy slop and heavy mud, on down through the 
pastures and over the fences, and past desolate looking 
fields and on into the lonesome shadows of the old 
wood. His merry whistle was checked, he always felt 
solemn here when he came on this errand for the dead, 
as it were. He was only ten, a slim lad, none too robust 
in appearance, but a pleasing, gentle little fellow, smart 
and energetic, for whom great things were expected in 
the future. Down into the dusky dell he descended, 
and with a sigh began to turn over the winter’s debris 
of leaves and grass. 
Here the melting snows had gone to cherish the 
mosses which peeped forth with a hearty green as Paul 
pushed away the decayed leaves and mold ; by the 
edges of the splasliing brook the grass grew green and 
healthy-looking, and in the shelter of the big stones and 
boulders the bold, sturdy dandelions bravely advanced 
green lances. Here, to be sure, was a faint show of 
spring and growing greenery; but search as he might, 
close and faithful, yet Paul could find no show of 
Violets, blue or white. Big tears filled his eyes ; it 
seemed wicked and cruel fairly, that he could not find 
•one white Easter Violet Tor papa’s grave. 
But wait! and the blue eyes stared hard through tho 
mist in them, and his heart rose and fell with eager 
hope. There was a wee, tiny gleam of white from that 
brown bunch of dead leaves, deep in the middle of tho 
brush yonder. And as lie bounded forward the touch 
of white increased, and he thought— 
"Surely that is quite a lot of the Easter flowers 1" 
But as he bent above it lie grew bewildered and puz 
zlcd ; he dried his eyes carefully to improve his vision, 
then stared the wider and harder. What wets he seeing? 
White Violets? No; but rather a white, soft shawl, and 
in that snowy bundle, there alone, thrown away in the 
bushes of that deserted old wood, was nestled a sweetly 
sleeping babe ! 
I must confess Paul quite forgot his Violets as he 
tenderly gathered the stray up in his aims. Even to 
his innocent boyish mind it was too clear that a great 
wrong had been done. It would seem that only by the 
merest accident the child was discovered, and it was too 
evident the little one had been consigned to death. 
Not a soul was in sight, and with a heart full of sym¬ 
pathy, yes, and fear, tco, Paul hastened home with the 
little bundle. He was thankful indeed that the shadows 
of evening covered him as he hurried down the familiar 
street. 
The baby in the bundle stirred and nestled closer to 
the warm arms that shielded it, and one tiny little 
fist fought through the wrappings. Paul essayed to re¬ 
turn the baby hand to its warm nest and the wee fingers 
gripped his so firmly that from that touch, from that 
hour on, the baby was master, and Paul its humble slave. 
The gentle widow-mother was half frightened by the 
new charge so unexpectedly brought to her, and sent 
for the village doctor to advise with her. 
Baby was dressed iu finest materials, and the doctor 
said, as he studied the stranger, that the child was an 
aristocrat. Exquisite hands and feet, a fine thorough¬ 
bred face, a really very fine female child. Why had 
she been so cruelly abandoned? The simple country 
folks never discovered her history, though they made 
all efforts, as in duty bound. 
Sirs. Slorgan could hardly afford to take the care and 
charge of another life upon her, though she would have 
cheerfully had no other way been provided. 
But Dr. Gray said he had an excellent plan whereby 
two people would be greatly benefited. 
Sirs. Esterton was a young woman, quite wealthy, 
who had just lost her husband a few weeks before ; her 
only child, a babe about as old as the one now called 
Pauls, had been taken from her, and it was feared by 
all her friends that she would next lose her mind. Mrs. 
Morgan quite agreed with the doctor, that if the poor 
young widow could be brought to feel an interest in this 
child it might be the means of giving her new life and 
strength. But they had to do a great deal of talking to 
convince Master Paul it was his duty t j give up tho 
child—the “ White Violet,” as he declared her to be. 
But, by the time Mrs. Esterton had been talked into a 
desire to see the child, Paul had become convinced of 
his duty. He acknowledged himself ready to sacrifice 
