True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1858-06-23
a PLEASING STORY.
From ARTHUR's HOME MAGAZINE.
Marion.
BY VIRGINIA DE FORREST.

"OH, DEAR oh, dear my feet do
ache so much! l can't 60 home !" and
the speaker, poor, dirty little girl, sat
down on stone by the wayside, sobbing
bitterly. A light buggy drove up, passed
her, and then voice crying, " Stop Har-
ry, I've lost my hat!" made the child
look up. In a moment she sprang after
the hat, chased it as the wind rolled il
away from her outstretChed hand, and
finally capturing the prize, went up to
meet the gentleman, who had by this
time left the vehicle and was coming
towards her.
"Thank you, my little girl. Halloo
what were you crying about? Look,
Harry, did you ever see such fright"
"Complimentaryr' said the young
man who was still in the buggy. "What
is the matter, Sis y.
"Oh. I'm so tired! and I've got neaI
mile further TO CO."
"Well, jump in here. Well take
you. You ran after my hat on the tired
little feet, SO we'll spare them for the rest
OF the walk"
"Oh, please sir, I'm SO dirty, ant
such fright I! | might spoil the carriage
or-or scare the horses!"
"'Pon my word if you were not sc
little should think you meant to be sar
CASTLE" was the laughing reply."-
"There p and with a strong hand thu
child was lifted into the buggy. SNOW
60 ahead, Harry"
George Morton was not very wrong
when he denominaled the little stranger
fright. Her dress was coarse, ragged
and dusty her feet bare, and her pool
little thin arms and legs burned brown
from exposure to the sun. Her face wal
thin and brown, her hair short, tangled
and s,raying out from under coarse SUI
bonnet, over her forehead, and concealns
her only beauty, pair Of large dark
brown eyes, which now, however, wert
red with weeping.
Harry Ashly, the younger and hanson
er of the two young men, spoke to the
little one, who was squeezed into the sea
between him and his companion.
" Where were you going?"
"Home."
Where's that?"
"At Mrs. Jones's, the dressmaker. p.
am her errand girl. and I've been taking
home a gown to Miss Lee, clear over a
Marsh Meadow it's over three miles
and I'm most tired to DEATH"
What's your mother thinking Of, Il
let such little girl lead such hard life
How old are you ?"
"Ten. Please sir, don't speak 81
cross about Mother, she's dead So
Father. Both dead oh, dear!"
"Why, who is your guardian9"
"Sir?"
"Who takes care Of you :"
Nobody, sir; Mrs. Jones lets m
sleep at her house since Ma died, an
gives me my clothes and my meals fO
my work."
"Did you ever 90 to school :"
eyes, sir, | went till Mother died.
can read some, and write, and cypheI
and maybe Mrs. Jones will let me 6
evenings this Winter to the parsons class
after I've done all my errands !"
Humph! Do you like to 60
school ~
"Oh don't :"
There was no mistaking the tone; 81
did like to go to school.
/" What's your name e.
"Marion Harding"
George, what pity I'm not the hel
Of novel !"
q "Whyl'
d "They always adopt those little TO
lornities. Being an orphan myself maxi
me feel an interest in this child's stor
I've half mind 10 invest some Of n
loose cash in taking care of her."
"Don Quixotte you will die in &
Almshouse yet. Harry, spite ofsyo
wealth, for such an open handed fello
never saw the light. Here we are at {,
village. Now little girl, where do
Mrs. Jones liver" I " ON
"Right up that street. Thank y
for bringing me I've had nice ride
4 So they parted, Harry and George
90 back to the tavern and grumble ovel
dull evening; and Marion to sew till !
eyes ached, and then creep up 10 the at
and sleep soundly on the hard bed:
"Marion Harding! You Mayl Wh'
on earth is the child MarionW
/" Yes ma'am."
!" Go into the parlor there's Sol
folks want to see you.' isH
G Want to see me I" thought the CHI
Hwho can want to see me r.
With slow and timid step she ent
ed the parlor. Harry Ashly was the
and with him an elderly lady, who b
out her hand to the little girl and dr
her towards her. She looked earne'
into the little face, marked the br
forehead, and the,large, full eye, and q
spoke to her slii, po ynasg<ll f'iu
fs59