White Cloud Kansas chief. [volume] (White Cloud, Kan.) 1857-1872, 1857-08-13

then asked her if the old man had never a tur1
Of work for him to do.
Il don't know said Mary. you can come
and see tO-morrowi he'd be at home BY thai
time, guess
MAY be will,' said Billltaking an old blacE
stump of iobaeco pipe7out of his waistcoai
pocket and crowding-it full of tobacco. Then
he took a coal up With the tongs, and after few
whifs he lighted his pipe, which sent forth the
vile odor in which old tobacco pipes peculiarly
excel.
1t was great relief to Mary to see her lazy
guest saunter up the land with his hands again
thrust in his pockets, with sort of aimless
shifless air that told plainly enough the story Of
his inprovident, idle habits.
Quite contrast was the next figure that pre-.
sen.ed itself to Mary's eyes, for scarcely had
Idle Bill disappeared, when advancing in the op.
posite direction came Ben. Pearson, with his ro-
sy, goOd-natured face, merry black eyes, and
dark curly hair.
'Well, my pretty little miss said Ben set
ting down his trunk, and wiping the great drops
from his forehead, 'can you give tired and
heated fellow like me, a bowl of your fresh
milk''
Il can with pleasure said Mary, fastening
to bring it. viii you have some bread too,
sir7'
NE, thank you, said Ben, draining the bowl.
This is excellent milk,-almost as rich as
cream. But you don't live here alone, do you,
my dear?
ooh no, my grandfather lives here. but he is
gone away just now, to come back to morrow,
at farthest.'
| But are you not afraid to stay here alone7'
'Oh no, nobody would harm little girl like
me. No one would even think of me, sup
pose.'
Ben Pearson laughed good natured, merry
laugh, and unpinning large paper parcel, he
drew out Franks bequet.
and what would you say, my little girl, if
somebody had thought enough of you to send
you thisl'
Mary's eyes sparkled at the sight of the beau
tiful flowers, but she could only falter forth,
For met
'Yes, it is for you, and this also, and this, and
this continued he, rapidly displaying the chill
dren's gifts, and evidently enioying the embar-
rassment of the bswildered child.
where did you get theml who sent them to
ne7' stammered Mary, bldshing and smiling.
Ben Pearson was too good natured to tease
her. SO he told her all the story, and Mary thank
ed him, and with grateful tears babe him thank
the sweet children whose generous young hearts
had opened so kindly to the little stranger.
WELL said Ben Pearson, as he walked some
what leisurely, 'she is beautiful child, for sar-
tin, and somehow the sight of her joy has done
me good and straightway Ben struck up the
tune,
"Iknew by the smoke that gracefully curled etc.,
but before he got half through the second verse,
he changed it to Hail Columbia, which he gave
with appropriate energy and enthusiasm.
Mary fastened to put her bouquet in water,
and place it beside her flvOrite rose bush, and
the rest of her presents she put in her own little
drawer, felicitating herself on surprising her
grandfather with them in the morning. She
passed her time in alternately looking at them,
and the flowers, till it grew dark, and then she
went up to her own room, and after her simple
prayers were over, she went quietly to bed, just
as the moon rising filed her little narrow cham
her with silvery light.
The moon does not look altogether upon I'M
happy hearts; no, there are many that beat peace
fully and joyfully beneath her rays The dreams
of the child were beautiful and full Of flowers
and music and cheerful song, and only once did
any thing disturb her. Then she started up, and
looked around, but all was still, and she sunk
again to rest almost in a moment.
|
The distant village clock told the hour of IL,
ere the last lamp was extinguished in the great
house. The night was so exceedingly beautiful,
that Mrs. Armitage had INDUCED her children
in sitting up later than usual, and as was perhaps
natural. They had been thinking and talking
about the little lonely girl. over the river, and
who she was. and if she was made happy by their
presents. Alas poor children, they little knew
how much trouble was to come upon them, from
that lonesome, neglected and miserable house.
All, even as they looked ever at it in the soft
moonlight, a shadow seemed to come upon their
young spirits and they gradually became silent.
At length their mothers gentle voice told them
it was time to retire, and soon sweet sleep de-
scended en- their innocent young heads. But
long after her children had left her side, Mrs.
Armitage sat at the open easement, and gazed
at the fair scene before her-the river, now gil
ding into the deep shadows, now flashing and
sparkling in the moonbeams, the distant misty
hills, the dark, sombre woods that skirted the
meadows, and the beautiful garden near her,
from which came up gushes Of rich fragrance,
as the light breeze occasionally stole up from the
river. Thoughts, both sad and pleasant, were
! in the mind Of Helen ArnitagS, sweet and
happy thoughts of the living, sweet and solemn
thoughts of the dead. And the bright stars that
locked down 30 lovingly from the blue heavens
seemed to whisper peace to her troubled spirit,
seemed to say, The loved and the los. are with
you STILL
Mrs. Armitage closed the easement, and then
with heart full of maternal love, she went to
the bedside of her sleeping children, and kissed
their fair, Young foreheads, beautiful in the
mconbeams as ehiseIled ivory. Harry, her pride,
and her frst-born, brave, generous Harry Armi-
tage, she always visited last, and it might haze
been only because he slept in the room next hers,
and it might have been also that there was more
than common sympathy, and therefore deeper
I io-a hatv-ea, thorn. than between her and the