New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1871-05-14

I've got an apple IN my desk here. DO
| you think she wsuld like ftg"
| The little child held out her fat hands
| eagerly.
| Here" said Mr.. Smallpiece, taking a
red apple out of his drawer and tossing il
| to the man, who gave it to the little lady III
his arms. Now go away quick. / am
very busy"
The man laughed again, and, taking his
hat. withdrew, holding one of the chubby
fists in his great brown hand, and making
believe to bite it, while the child munched
the apple which she held in the other
When they had gone. MIR. Smallpiece
leaned back in his chair and reflected on his
unparalleled weakness. What interest had he
in children, that he should feel seft-hearted
toward his little one. Was he getting
childish in his old agei He did not know.
Possibly so. At all events, u new feeling,
or rather an old feeling revived, had sprung
up in his breast, and caused him to look
upon his own cynical nature in something
of new light.
The next afternoon the child appeared
again upon the step, and again did the man
toss her high above his head when he met
her. Looking across the little common, the
workman recognized the lawyer with nod
and smile, and then began an uprOarious
romp upon the soft grass with the child
He lay down and allowed her to roll over
him. He made believe TO chase her, and
then, when she turned upon him, ran away
feigning great terror, SO that the chids
clear laughter rang out in the still after
noon air like peal of little silvery bells
He went down upon his hands and knees
and, putting the little one on his back
trOtted about the lawn, pretending to be a
horse, and otherwise conducting himself in
manner so extravaganza and ridiculous,
and sending his companion into such con-
vulsiOns of merriment, that Simon Small
piece, quite before he was aware of it, found
himself leaning back in his chair and laugh
ing almost as heartily as they.
II should like to do that myself thought
Simon. r. --ssusF
And although you may not believe it, it is
actually true that the old lawyer left his
work, and, putting on his hat left his Office
by the back door, and walked across the
common to join them. To be sure, he took
no part in their sport, and only stood under
the tree to watch the proceedings; but be-
fore he went back to his writing the child
had another great red apple, bigger this
time than both her chubby fists together
And so between these people IA sort of
halffamiliar acquaintance sprung up, which
gradually became to Simon Smallpieee so
pleasant and agreeable that at last, when
ever the workman and his niece failed to
appear ON the pleasant afternoons, the law
yer would experience shade of disappoint-
ment. Unconsciously to himself, the attri-
ton with the innocent nature of the child
was rubbing OFF some of the hard protuber-
ances of seltshness aud uncharity upon his
own character. Somehow he could not
think of this little one and his own daughter,
who was once a child too, at the same time
land when one was present in his mind so
also was the other), with opposed and diff
ferent feelings.
When he laughed at the gambols of the
workman's niece or pinched her rosy cheeks
playfully, he could not find it in his heart
to utter his accustomed curse upon the
memory of his own child, whom he had
driven from him years ago. And as one
thought led to another, he began to reflect
at times when he sat alone in his chamber
at night, that it would he apleasant thing
to have wOmanS or even 10 Guilds pres
ence there, to brighten his declining Years
and to make him feel more kindly toward
the world. But who WAS there 10 do for |
him what the wOrkman's little charge had |
accomplished for her unclel |
He had no brother to bequeath him children. |
His daughter had found IL better shelter |
than he could give her, although he knew
not where it was, happy. doubtless. and in |
her daily thoughts and prayers he never |
found a place. Yet he could almost wish to |
room, and perhaps calling bin grandfather |
1t would have been pleasant. after all, to |
have "a rosy elf. all smiles and dimples, |
climbing into his lap after supper, and bury |
ny pair of pink cheeks in his Waistcoat|
I}ut that, alas! although it might have been, |
was not to be thought of now.
The summer waned ana autumn came in |
ler r,lstlng robes of brown and gold, strew-
ny the grassy space behind the Office With d |
The intimacy between the child and Simon
extended non even to taking her Into his |
lrlns and kissing her, had clandestinely |
au element of kindiiness INTO the
awyer's nature, which had kindied in his
leIrt a warmth which it lad not known for
'eaIs. On every Sunday afternoon he
walked across the common 10 meet the
workman and his niece, aud sometimes
topped himself ~ gather d handful of The
ustlins leaves with which to playfully
q yer the child's faAen curls.
One afternoon he saw man approaching
With a singular. hating gait, as though it
we're painful for him to walk The hour
vas II little cartier than that Of his usual 70.
utn from work; but the child was waiting
Or him under the trees, As she saw him
ming. she clapped her hands with her
characteristic little shout. and ran toward
i'm But he did not catch her in hi4 arms
= usual, and as he took her hand, nut his
Mn great brown one up quickly 10 his
cart, and staggered little unsteadily.
hen, without word, he fell forward sud
rnly upon the grass.
My goodness said Simon, leaping at
nee nut of the low, open window, and run
ing aerOss the common toward them!I
Something has happened to the man"
When he reached the spot the workman
~ upon his face, and the child was cling
ig to him with screams of terror. Several
ersons who had seen him fall came quickly
p and tried to raise him to his feet, but
then they recognized the truth they laid
i'm back again, and tried to unclasp the
rms of the little girl
at was heart disease" said one, softly.
SIS he dead p said Simon, bending over
he PROSTATE form, in awe.
"Quite dead, replied the other, who was
neighboring physician. '' Is the child
IS ?"
"The child is mine, now" said Dir. Small.
zee firmly. raising her in his arms. "WilI
)u come with me- little one ~
us the world coming to an endW asked
lie of the bystanders, grimly
"a part of what | have been to the world
rs already come to an end, replied Simon,
'essing his lips to the tear-stained cheek
the little one in his arms. "Take the
,or fellow to his house. The child shall ,
with me-"
And he took her home, and locking the
ice, sat down in his big chair and tried to
mtOrt her. AS he held her in his arms all :
e feelings of paternity, so long dead with {
his breast. came suddenly uppermost;
Id greatly to his own astonishment he s
und himself doing. without the least awk-
ardne9s or embarrassment, the needful {
llngs which seemed best to draw her mind {
way from what had happened. E
When he had quoted her subs with CHEEKY f