(Susan M. Perkins, in the Boston Transcript)

ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL.

    Abou Ben Adhem—­may his tribe increase—­
    Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace
    And saw, within the moonlight of his room,
    Making it rich and like a lily in bloom,
    An angel writing in a book of gold. 
    Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
    And to the presence in the room he said: 
    “What writest thou?” The vision raised his head,
    And with a look made of all sweet accord,
    Answered:  “The names of those who love the Lord.” 
    “And is mine one?” said Abou.  “Nay, not so,”
    Replied the angel.  Abou spoke low,
    But cheerily still, and Said, “I pray thee, then,
    write me as one that loves his fellow-men.” 
    The angel wrote and vanished.  The next night
    It came again, with a great, wakening light,
    And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
    And, lo!  Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.

    Leigh hunt.

CHAPTER X.

SIBYLLA LINSABIGLER.

A very original character was Sibylla Linsabigler, who had been a member of the Landis household several years.  She was Aunt Sarah’s only maid servant, but she disliked being referred to as a servant, and when she overheard “Fritz” Schmidt, as he passed the Landis farm on his way to the creek for a days fishing, call to Mary:  “Miss Midleton, will you please send the butter over with the servant today, as I shall not return home in time for dinner” Sibylla said, “I ain’t no servant.  I’m hired girl What does that make out if I do work here?  Pop got mad with me ’cause I wouldn’t work at home no more for him and Mom without they paid me.  They got three more girls to home yet that can do the work.  My Pop owns a big farm and sent our ‘Chon’ to the college, and it’s mean ‘fer’ him not to give us girls money for dress, so I work out, ’Taint right the way us people what has to work are treated these days,” said Sibylla to herself, as she applied the broom vigorously to the gay-flowered carpet in the Landis parlor.  “Because us folks got to work ain’t no reason why them tony people over to the Perfessor’s should call me a ‘servant.’  I guess I know I milk the cows, wash dishes, scrub floors, and do the washin’ and ir’nin’ every week, but I’m no ‘servant,’ I’m just as good any day as that good-fer-nothin’ Perfesser’s son,” continued Sibylla, growing red in the face with indignation.  “Didn’t I hear that worthless scamp, Fritz Schmidt, a-referrin’ to me and a-sayin’ to Miss Midleton fer the ‘servant’ to bring over the butter?  Betch yer life this here ‘servant’ ain’t a-goin’ to allow eddicated people to make a fool of her.  First chance I get I’ll give that Perfesser a piece of my mind.”

Sibylla’s opportunity came rather unexpectedly.  The gentle, mild-mannered Professor was on good terms with his sturdy, energetic neighbor, John Landis, and frequently visited him for a neighborly chat.  On this particular day he called as usual and found Sibvlla in the mood described.