The eastern clarion., 1859-04-13
M "A r 10 N
BY VIRGINIA DE FORREST.

"'Oh, dear oh, dear my feet do ache
so much! can't go home" and the
speaker a poor, dirty little girl, sat down
on stone by the wayside, sobbing bitter
ly. A light buggy drove up, passed her,
and then voice crying ''Stop Harry! I've
lost my hat" made the child look up
In moment she spranC after the hat,
chased it as the wind rolled it away from
her outstretched hand, and finally cap
tured the prize, went up TO meet the gen
tleman, who had by this time left the We
hicle and was coming towards her.
Thank you, my little girl. Halloo!
what were you crying about? Look, Har-
ry, did you ever see such fright"
Complimentary - said the young man
who was still in the buggy. "What is the
matter, Sis ?"
'.Oh, I'm so tired! and I've got near a
mile further to 60"
'Wcll, jump i'll here. Well take you.
You ran after my hat on the tired little
feet, 50 we'll spare them the rest of the
walk"
ooh, please sir, I'm 50 dirty. and such
fright! might spoil the carriage, or-or
scare the horsew
''Pon my word! if you were not 50
little should think you meant to be sar-
castle" was the laughing reply. There"
and with strong hand the child was lift
ed into the buggy. "Now go ahead,
Harry
George Morton was not very far wrong
when he denOminated the little stranger
a fright. Her dress was coarse, ragged.
and dirty her feet bare, and her poor
little thin arms and legs burned brown
from exposure to the sun. Her face was
thin and brown, her hair short, tangled,
and straying out from under the coarse
sun-bonnct, over her forehead, and con
cealing her only beauty, pair of large
dark brown eyes, which now, however,
were red with weeping.
Harry Ashly, the younger and hand
somer of the two young men, spoke to
the little one, who was squeezed into the
seat between him and his companion.
Where were you going?'
"Homew
where's that?"
cat Mrs Jones's, the dressmaker. I'm
her errand girl, and I've been taking
home gown to Miss Lee, clear over at
Marsh Meadow; it's over three miles, and
Pm most tired to death"
whats your mother thinking of. to
let such a little girl lead such hard life
How old are you?"
"Ten. Please sir, don't speak so cross
about Mother, she's dead; SOS Father =
Both dead; oh dearw
"Why, who is your guardian?"
! Sir"
"Who takes care of you ?"
Nobody, sir: Mrs. Jones lets me sleeI
at her house since Ma died, and gives me
my clothes and meals for my work"
Did you ever 60 to school?"
Yes, sir, ! went till Mother died.
! can read some, and write, and cipher, and
may be Mrs. Jones will let me go even
| ings, this winter to the parsons class, af
ter I've done all my errands!
"Humph! Do you like TO go toschoolY
"Oh don't -"
There was no mistaking the tone she
did like to gOto school.
whats your name"
| Marion Harding"
George, what a pity | am not the hero
of a novel"
.'Why?"
They always adopt these little forlor
mites. Being an orphan myself makes
me feel an interest in this little child''
story. I've halfa mind to invest some o
my loose cash in taking care of her"
don QuixOtte! You will die in tn,
Almshouse yet, Harry, spite Of you
wealth, for such an open-handed fellow
never saw the light. Here we are at til,
village. Now little girl where does Mrs
Jones live?"
fright up that street. Thank YOU 70
bringing me; I've had nice ride
SO they parted, Harry and George t,
go back to the taven and grumble over
dull evening, and Marion to sew till he
eyes ached, and creep up stairs to the at
tic and sleep soundly on the hard bed.
Marion Harding! You May! Wher
on earth is the child? Marionw
"Yes ma am"
$50 into the parlor; there's some folk
want to see you"
What to see me p thought the child
"who can want to see mew
With slow. timid step, she entered tn
parlor. Harry Ashly was there, and wit
him an elderly lady, who held out he
hand to the little girl ard drew her tC
wards her. She looked earnestly in tn
little face, marked the broad forehead
and the large, full eye, and then spoke
her.
my dear, how would you like to com
and live with me, and wait upon me?"
Marion, captivated bv the sweet voiC
and pleasant face, replied, Very mucl
a'am."
Aunt Mary" said Harry, shall l ca
, Mrs. Jones"
Yes, Sir Impatience."
Marion's story, given by Mrs. JonC
was a brief and a very common one.
Her father, viOlinist, had become intel
perate, and died when Marion was We
young; her, mother. after nine years
q hard work in the endeavor to suppo
herself and child decentlv, died in Il
village Almshouse, and Marion was,
her tenth year, bound to Mrs. Jones
! her errand girl.
After some talk Mrs. Ashly decided
take the child educate her, and try,
; Mrs. Jones said, ''to make something
}, her" The dressmaker was easily persu
o ded, upon the payment of a sum of mo
Q ey, to release the child from her engal
7 ment.
Mrs. Ashly's first care was to have h
n protege cleanly and nicely dressed, a
Q then, under Harry's escort, she return
n with her new charge to her home in y,
n York. At first her intertion was to pla
q the child in school, and have her s,
O NlCSH aH u waiter bttNtrIl Stllool hOu
!. but MariOn's intelligence and loving d
y position won the heart of the lonely W
: Ow, and she formally adopted her.
r Years rolled on; Harry, now DIR. Ash
Q still lived with his Aunt Mary, who v
at once his uncle's widow and his mothe
: sister. Marion was away at boardiI
q school, studying hard, and writing ho1
o often to console her dear Aunt Mary
s her absence. And now, for time,
q must leave the three.
/ Mother" said a young man comi
4 into Mrs. Morton's boudoir one morniI
''who is that lovely girl in the nurser
n Such hair and eyes, and such figurev'
/ "What are you talking about, Georg