Wyandot County Republican. [volume] (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1869-1903, 1871-11-02

SadQ SLOWLY. InaG was well. since snort
counting would suffice for their availa-
BILE funds, and income and expenditure
could hardly be coaxed into meeting
amicably, but there were always disa-
greeing in the most fat and uncourteous
manner possible. The work was making
designs for the prlntmills. Helen al
ways spoke of it as the work, never as
her work-that expression meant some
thing more and different to her. and
was sacred to an old hope laid aside.
While the brighter days lasted-while
DIR. Mayne ived-she had found abun-
dant occupation that suited her. She
had delighted in his books and studies
and the old physician, proud of his
young daughters clear head and quick,
intelligent comprehension, had encour
aged the taste, and given her every
assistance in his power talking at first
laughingly, afterward more seriously,
of time when she should be thoroughly
prepared to become his assistant in his
crowded practice. So, little by little,
the scheme had grown clear and well
defined, until it became to the girl
cherished purpose, and she looked for
ward with many hopeful plan for the
busy, useful future. Then DIR. Mayne
died, dropped suddenly and forever the
countless cares he had not thought he
could relinquish for day, and the for
tune he had always been just going to
lay by was still in embryo. The few
months that followed ended Helen's
dream. No, not quite that, perhaps,
but sent it into an indefinite Danish
ment that was almost worse than execu
ton. She learned then fact not
mentioned in history, or recorded in
the newspaper stories of " self made
men," that there may be a bravery in
surrender never dreamed of in the
stoutest battle, and that some contemp-
tuousiy pitied failures are nobler than
any lauded success.
All of which, however, did not make
her desperately in love with the work
of designing for the print-mills, and
her eyes would wander away from the
boxes of pencils and colors and the
blank, staring paper to the dear old
books beyond. Many things, had, per-
force, been parted with; but Helen had
clung to the books. They must be
kept, if only for Rue's sake. He would
want them some day, she said; though
in truth that young gentleman's talents
seemed to tend more strongly in the
direction of braking his own neck than
in that of repairing damaged bones for
other people. Removing the volumes
from the place where loved hands had
touched them, and arranging them in
these new, strange rooms, brought back
for little the keen, impatient pain.
1t was hard to take up the distasteful
daily toll and turn from the study she
longed for. The years that must pass
before she could hope to resume it
looked so long-wasted years she felt
like calling them. "Not until the chill
dren are grown up-and 1 shall be so
old them she thought, drearily Then
something-was it in the sunset, or the
rustling leaves of the solitary tree at
her through no outward sense?-whis-
pered of the life that had thirty long
years of waiting, and only three for its
work; and Helen grew strong again
with that breath of the "old, old
story" and the tears that had gathered
in her eyes did not fall.
Did those who escaped from the
burning, unshaded sky, and the dry,
hot bricks, to the pleasant shadow of
old trees, the waving of green grass
and the soft ripple OF cool water ever
really know how intense the heat was
in town that summer? Mrs. Grimp's
tenants could have told. The little
yard, visible from the back windows,
grew dry and baked, the dingy linen
on the lines ceased fiuttering and hung
limp and breathless, while on the street
in front the vegetables wilted at the
doors of the small groceries, the small
dogs lolled about with tongues hanging
from their mouths, and the small boys
forgot to torment them, and sought re-
pose on the shady side of sugar hogs
heads and molasses barrels.
A still, bright day had burned itself
through, and the long, soft twilight
came. At the little center table Nan
bent busily over her work, trying to
make the evening atone for the days
want of energy. Rue drew little Mar
gle to the most remote front window,
where faint breath of air stole in, and
prepared plan of operations at once
instructive and entertaining.
"See here" exhibiting considerable
length of string attached to Helens
shawl pin, which he had surreptitiously
borrowed and bent into hook. "rm
goin' fishin' out herer'
"What'H yoa catch?' said Margie
admiringly.
ooh! pieces of paper, an norange
peel, an things off Lhe sidewalk-make
b'lieve they're whales. an salibut, an
such. It's lots of funr'
He was tolerably successful, as the
gradually accumulating litter upon the
carpet atte ted and the interest of the
pursuit deepened. Nan looked around
once and saw only two little heads lean
ing out the window.
absorbed in the beauties of nature
for once; glad they're quiet" she com
mented, silently, and became Oblivion,
again.
Flushed with trump, Master Rue
piscatorial enthusiasm increased, anc
he flung his line about more wildly.
"Hol didn't that woman jump
Why, you hit her right on the nose
with your hookr' said Margie.
"She had-n' doughter be a wadin
sponded Rue, cody. "Now, Pm goin
to let it down again. Say, Margie, SCI
that bunch of beets across the street
If they only laid on our sidewalk
could hook 'em up nice, tell you'll"
While they surveyed the opposit
grocery, an old gentleman passing dow
the street on the narrow sidewalk, re
moved his hat for a moment to wip
his perspiring brow, and Rue's descend
ing hook came suddenly in contac
with his head.
!, "Halloor' he exclaimed, startled an
putting up his hands to discover wha
had struck him.
Rue saw the movement, and, fearin
| some evil to his precious fishing tackle
gave the string quick jerk; but, alas
5 the hook was entangled in his hair
, % myP' CALCULATED Margie, wit
suppressed breath, suddenly turnin
upon her brother, eyes staring wild
, with horror and astonishment
: Rue gave one terrified glance towar
his hook, and discovered mass of hal
r dangling in mid-air, then drew bac
: from the window and "pulled in" wit