The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1890, Page 11

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The Lutheran Pioneer.

11

Mari, the Outcast and Foundling.

In India there are many children who have
never known their parents. Girls especially
are often exposed and deserted by their mothers
in infancy, for it is deemed a disgrace for a
family to have many daughters. Since the
British Government at present severely pun-
ishes the-crime of child-murder, which used to
be fearfully prevalent in India, parents who
wish to get rid of their girls take them to some
large city, set them down in the streets and
forsake them, consoling themselves with the
thought that some kind person will find them
and care for them. So these children, if they
do not-die from exposure, grow up in the
bazaar or market-place. To-day perhaps a
bearded Musselman will take
them up, play with them and

‘give them something to eat;
to-morrow a Hindoo farmer may
take pity on them and give them
a little care; then some woman,
passing by, may bestow a little
attention upon them. Thus they
lead a vagrant, forlorn life,
eager, like the dogs, for some
bone, or piece of bread or cake
that are thrown down to them.
As they become older, they be-
gin to help themselves by beg-
ging and stealing, and as a con-
sequence they are mercilessly
knocked about and often cruelly
abused. Of course they have
no opportunity of learning any-
thing but evil; and so they go
to wreck in body and soul.

Such a pitiful creature was
little, seven year old Mari, who

a few years ago found her way
to the missionaries at Calicut.
She knew nothing about her
parents; as far back as her
memory served her, she had had no home and
had lived in no house, but had stayed and
strolled about in the market-place of a neigh-
boring mountain city. By day she had been
accustomed to beg and spend the time with
other children on the streets, and at night she
would crouch under some tree or creép into
the corner of a veranda of some house, where,

shivering with cold, she would try to wrap
herself in her rags. On the mountains of

India it is quite cold, particularly at night,

and so her tattered and scanty clothing afforded
her poor protection. In consequence of such
exposure the poor child had early contracted
rheumatism and the gout, so that her limbs
>wWere twisted out of shape and she could hardly
walk erect. Hearing of the warmer climate
of the lowlands, she started to go down one
day, not knowing that it was a considerable
distance into the valley, and that it required
& good day’s march at a brisk rate to reach it.
Owing to her crippled condition, she made
poor progress. The first night she met a com-

pany of travelers who were camping out for|health. This was a brilliant offer which the
the night and had kindled a fire. They allowed | little one eagerly accepted. The next day she
her to lie down with them and also gave her| rode with her new mistress to Cannanore, where
something to eat; but when they arose to go|a European garrison was stationed. At first

it: was so cold that little Mari could not get up
for pain. So she Jay in the street until the
sun had risen and warmed her sufficiently to
continue her journey. She walked all day as
fast as she could. Some people, whom she met,
advised her to make haste so as to reach an
inn befure night, for in those regions there are
many tigers, elephants and wild boars, and it
would not be safe to spend the night in the
open air. But though she hurried on as fast
as she could, the night overtook her before she
was able to reach the hbuse. For fear of the
wild beasts she did not dare to stop, and yet

Valley of the Kedron.

her little, crippled feet refused to bear her up
longer. The howling of wolves, which she
heard not far off, urged her to put forth her
last energies, until she sank to the ground ex-
hausted, unable to take another step. In her
distress she began to cry aloud for help; but
who should hear her in this deserted place?
She may have been lying in the road about
half an hour—and meanwhile it bad become
quite dark—when she heard the noise of an
approaching wagon. She arose quickly to
avoid being run over, and when the carriage
drove by she took hold of it and begged to be
taken along. The lady in the carriage, when
she beheld the little girl, allowed her to climb
in. Only a short distance further on they
reached the travelers’ inn. Here they secured
lodging, and after supper, of which little Mari
was permitted to partake also, the lady inquired
into her history. When she learned that the
child was a deserted orphan, she offered to keep
her as her servant, to provide her with cloth-
ing and food and try to have her restored to

the lady was very kind. Mari attended to the

housework as well as she could and began to

improve in health. But soon it appeared that

her mistress was a very bad woman, who kept

company with the soldiers and was given to

drunkenness. At such times she found pleasure

in torturing little Mari; she beat and pinched

her, poured hot water on her, pressed sharp

thorns through her ears and nose, and then

laughed at the child’s cries. Mari was too

timid to resist such cruelties. But one day

when the woman in her drunken fury heated

an iron tripod red hot and placed the child

thereon, the intense pain over-

came her timidity, she fled from

the house and made her way

to the neighboring town Tala--
cherry. Here she began her old

vagrant life again. From this

place she came to Calicut, where,

for several months, she had been

living in the market-place and

sleeping at night under some ve-
randa, among others that of the
English school, from which she
could look into the garden of
the girl’s school. One morning
the sexton met her on the ve-
randa and asked her whether
she would not like to attend
school and learn something and
live with the other children.
She could hardly believe that
she would be received; but she
went along with him and so, in
her sick, forlorn and miserable
condition, she was brought into
the mission house. In less than
a year her entire appearance
was changed. With the excep.
tion of some stiffness in the feet, owing to the
burns she had received at Cannanore, she be-
came a healthy, cheerful child, kind, diligent
and generally beloved in the school. May the
Lord claim her for Himself and make of her a
true child of God.—Jittle Missionary.

<<

Christ for me, the Sinner.

God knows us much better than we know
ourselves. None of us have an idea how really
bad we are! You think you have some idea;
but what you see of yourself is only a peep,
and nothing at all compared with what is there;
but God knows you thoroughly. Your whole
life, with all its failure, is before Him; but, oh!
the comfort! God, who knew these sins, laid
them on Christ, and believing, thou art free.
Jesus only knows how heavy our debt is, for
He had to pay it.

—_> ~<a

SALVATION can be inherited but never earned.