Indiana American. [volume] (Brookville, Ind.) 1833-1861, 1854-04-21
TIL B0SU N SlRPII?.
By MRS. c. LEE HENrz.

mond Clifford on his knee. and seating
himselfin corner Of her mothers sofa
"Don't you want to hear I story to-
ightl"
ais Il a sure enough storyi" asked Ro-
somond, cor fairy tale, like the Arabian
Nights Ertertainment!'
aEvery word Of ii truth" answered
Cecil-sthough some portions OF IL may
freeze your young blood IL Is Oh
little Girl, about your own age. and
woman who I verify believe Is Lucifer
himself, dressed in woman's Clothes"
"You have excited my curiosity" said
Mrs Clifford, closing her book, and taking
a seat Oh the sofa-sfor as every story
must have hero, suspect you are the
hero ofyour own
sPlease tell it," cried Rosomond, with
the impatience ofa petted child-"l want
to hear about the little GIRL
"Well," said Cecil, "you recollect
how bright and beautiful the moon shone
last night, and how peaceful and lovely
every thing looked. AS ! was returning
to my lodgings, rather later than usual,
I passed through lane, which shorten
ed the distance, though the walk itself
was rough and unpleasant. As | was
indulging in my old habit OF buil1ing
castles by the moonlight, | heard the
most piercing shrieks issuing, from
low building to which was directly OPP
posite. There must be murder going on,
thought I, and like the giant, imagined
] could 'smell the blood Of an English
man. | rushed to the door, almost shook
il from its hinges in opening il. and found
myself in a narrow, dark passage--but
guided by the cries, soon reached an
other door, which opened with as lit
tie ceremony, and what do you think
sawi'
Aawere they killing the poor little grill"
cried Rosomond, drawing a long breath.
her eyes growing larger and darker.
"You shall hear. In the centre OF the
room, there was a large, iron-framed
woman, with her right hand extended,
brandishing a leathern thong over the
head OF a pale, shrinking girl whom she
rrasped with her left hand, and from
whose bare shoulders the blood was ooz-
ing through grooves that thong had CIT.
Yon may well start and shudder, for a
more hideous spectacle never met the
eve. She was just In the act OF inficting
another LASH, when | arrested her arm
with force which must have made II
ache TO the marrow OF the bones, and
caused her Involuntary to loosen her
hold Of her victim. who tell exhaust
ed to the floor. The wo nan turned on
me. with the fury oil n woliinterrupted In
its bloody banquet"
"Did she look like the picture Of the
VIOLIN little Red Riding HOodl" asked
Rosomond.
ayes, most striking resemblance
Her cap was blown back to the crown oil
her head by the barbaroas exercise In
which she had been engaged, her tongue
actually protrnded from her mouth, in
the impotence Of her rage, and her hard.
dull-colored eyes glowed like red-hot
stones in their deep sockets"
"What do you want" cried she, in o
voice between a growl and a scream
and who are you, and what Is your BUSH
ness! You had better take care, or I'll
make your back smart, in spite ofyour
fine coat
Il could not help smiling at the idea
Of being whipped by woman, but |
answered as sternly as possibe--'l want
humanity, for | am a man. My business
Is TO snatch this child from your clutches,
and to give you up to the city authorizes
for disturbing the public peace F"
"It is her fault, not mine,' replied she,
little intimidated by my threat-'she
always screams and hollows when whip
her as II were numbering her, II but
scratch her skin. | gave her task to
do, and told her II she did not do Il |
would whip her--a good-for-nothing
lazy thins.-mope, nope from morning
till night, nothing but NOPE and fret.
while I'm drudging like slave. I'm
not going to support her any longer, II
ha, TO turn her out OF doors. She thinks
beca &c her mother happened to die
here, must give her home, forsooth,
and she do nothing iopay for It, the UNI
grateful hussy!
"Oh. don't tell any more about that
hcrrid old woman" Interrupted Roso-
mond--"f wait to hear about the little
girl. What did she do!
"Why, she wept and sobbed, and said
she did all she could, but that she was
sick and weak, and she wished she was
in the grave by her poor mothers side, for
there was nobody in the world to take
care IF her, and she knew not what
would become Of her. told her impul-
sively I would see she was TAX en- care o!
and that II that vile woman but lifted her
finger against her once more she should
rue il to her hearts core"
There, Cecil, you have made rhyme,
80 you must wish before you speak
again, said Rosomond, laughing.
"well, | wish that poor ,desolate child
had home like this, and mother like
Mrs. Clifford, aud companion liks
Rosomond--or wish that had kind
mother and sister, To whose care coult
entrust her, or a sweet, gentle wiie-anC
Il IL the first time In my life ever breath.
ed that wish--who would be willing
TO protect and cherish her for my
sake"
"Is she a pretty child" INTERCEPTED
Mrs. Clifford, feelings best known 4
hersel prompting the question.
"Yesl" repeated Rosomond, eagerly
stealing a look in the glass at her owl
bright eyes, fair complexion aud curling
ioeks--'is she pretty and was she dres
scd nice'
"Nol" answered Cecil. "thc only emo
ton she could excite Is that Of the deep
est pity. She Is thin 10 cmaciation, sal
low TO cadavcrousness, and her eyes oc
cupy the greatest portion Of her face
they look so large and hollow and wild
She might sit for miniature represen
tntion of famine. disease ar woe Their