Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1861-04-11

| III Oll NClC uulStCh
"Thcre," he said. drawing a long breath,
"vou have been as Quiet as little mouse and
am thousand times obliged to you. Take
that home" and he handed her the sketch,
land may be- some of these days, you will
think of him who gave it to you"
THAT | WILL all my life long," artlessly
said the child, rapturously gazing on her new
possession with an enthusiasm partly born of
the artist.soul within her, and partly the
result of child S pride in what is its own es
pecaI property.
"Oh yeS' interposed the other youth,
"you will promise to be his wife some day,
won't you, Miss Cobwebsr'
The child's eyes flashed as she turned on the
speaker Her instinct, from the first, had
made he dislike the sneerng man. She
stamped her pretty foot, and retorted, sauci-
ly, an never be yours, at any rate, you old
swapping turtle - and, as if expecting to have
her ears boxed, If caught, she darted away,
disappearing rapidly down the path whence
she had come.
Clarence Harvard broke into a merry laugh
in which, after moment of anger, his compan
ion Joined him.
"You deserve it richly" said Clarence; cts
a capital nickname, too; shall call you moth
CiSt, ulltI lutN, NuuH NNI llC
Hang the little Jade !" was the reply
Cone wouldn't think she was so smart. But
what a shrew she will make ! | pity the clod-
hopper she marrieS; she'll hespeck him ont of
all peace, and send him to an ealy grave"
Nothing more was said, for at that moment
a dinner horn sounded, and the young men rose
to return to the roadside inn where they had
stopped the night before Their time was lin
tied, and that evening, knap-SackS on back, they
were miles away from the scene Of the morn
ing A week later they were both home in
the city, Clarence hard at work pertectiHg
himself in his art and his companion delying
at Coke and Blackstone.
Years passed Clarence Hayard had risen
! to be an artist of eminence. His pictures were
the fashion; he was the fashion himself. Occa-
sionalIy, as he turned over his older sketches,
he would come Upon "CobwebS,' as he was
accustomed, laughingIy, to call the sketch of
the child; and then for a moment he would
wonder what had become Of the original; but
except on these rare occasions, he never even
thought OF her.
Not SO with the child herself Nellie Bray
was poor orphan, the daughter Of decayed
gentleman. who, after her fathers DEATH had
been adopted by maternal uncle, living on
a wild, upland farm among the AleghanleS
Her childhood, from her earliest recollection,
had been spent amid the drndgery of u farm.
This rude but free life had given her the springy
step and ruddy cheek which had attracted the
young artists attention, but it had failed 30
satisfy the higher aspirations OF her nature
aspirations which had been born in her blood
and which came OF generations OF antecedent
culture The first occasion on which these
higher impulses had found congenial food was
when she had met the young artist. She car
ricd the sketch home and would never part
with it, His refined, intellectual face, hauut-
ed all her day dreams. From that hour, a
new element entered into her life she became
conscious that there were other people beside
the dull, Dloddng ones with whom her lot had
been cast she aSpired to rise to the level of
such; all her leisure hours were spent in study
lug; gradually, through her influence, her uncleS
household grew gore or less refined; and, final
", her uncle himself became ambitions for
Nellie, and as he had no children, consented,
at his wifes entreaty, to send the young girl
to first class boarding school
At eighteen the barefooted rustic whom
/ the young artist had skctched, had daN ued
into a beautiful aud accomplished woman, who
after having carried off the highest prizes at
/ school, was the belle of the country town, near
1 which her uncc's possessions lay. For, mean
time, that uncle had been growing rich, like
most prudent farmers partly from the judici-
onS investments of his savings. But, in spite
of her many suitorS, Nelly had never yet seen
face that appeared to her half SO handsome
as the manly one of the young artist, whose
! kind, gentle words and manner, eight years be-
/ FORE had lived in her memory ever since
! Often after brilliant company, where she had
been queen of the evening, she found herself
wondering, in her chamber, if she should ever
see that face again. ...
care you going to the ball next week 2" said
one of Nellies friends to her. They say It's
to be the most splendid affair we have ever
had. Ny brother tells me that Mr.. Now
bray, the eloquent lawyer from Philadelphia,
who is in the great case here, is to be pre-
sent
"I expect to CO." was the answer. But
/ Mr.. Mowbray being there won't be the lndu-
cement"
Oh, you are so beautiful, you can afford to
be Indifferent But all the other girls are dy-
ing at the very thought"
| The ball came off, and as really superb
! Mr.. Mowbray was there, too, with all bis lau-
rels. The great case" which had agitated
! the county for so many months, had been con-
cluded that very day, and been decided in
| favor of his client. No such speech as Mr..
! Mowbray's, it was universally admitted, had
ever been heard in the court house. It's alter
nate wit and argument had carried the jury by
storm, so that they had given verdict with
out leaving the box. The young lawyer,a that
I ball, was like hero fresh from the battle
field A hundred eyes followed his form, a
hundred fair bosoms beat quicker as he ap-