Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1871-06-21

the CRATE sent out cheerful light which
illuminated the center of the room, eav-
ing the sides and corners in deep shadow.
What a sight met my eyes!
Miss Griffin, supposing herself the sole
occupant of the room, had taken a seat
upon the carpet in front of the FIRE, and
there, her quaint little head bent on one
side, canary fashion, she sat muttering TO
herself. stopped and listened; | couldn't
help it TO save my life.
'Why, isn't this jolly! This seems
homeIike. ! don't believe | Ike parties.
Oh! forgot my boot hurts me. That's
my excuse for running away from that
horrid waltz. | wonder what dreadful
creature first conceived the idea of waltz
ing9 If | had my way he should hop
through all ages, and on one foot, too !!
Heigh no! A nice tire-how cheerful |!
Our library used to be something like
this before papa died. Oh, dear! There
isn't bit Of happiness in this world I'M
Iess one has somebody to love cue? And
then | knew the little creature was sob
bing.
Now, that was too bad. What could
l do? Nothing evidently. What would
Fred do? Keep quiet and allow her to
depart in total ignorance of bis presence.
But that this little episode would leave
deep and last impression, |, who knew
Fred SO thoroughly, perfectly understood.
How much pleasanter to spend an
evening here than with all those stupid
folks down slairsr and the little ono
arose from her seat, and began to survey
the apartment. | knew it was all up
then. In second more, smothered
shrek, q quick Il beg pardon, sir; |
thought was alone! WAS waited to my
ears.
please do not feel distressed about it.
| should have spoken when you first en-
tered, but l foolishly imagined you would
be able to leave without observing me
If it does not make you feel annoyed, l
SHALL be very glad it happened, as it af-
forded me glimpse of something natural
and spontaneous
knew it was wrong to stop there list.
ening, but was actually riveted to the
spot. Women always have some excuse
for pryng, and 'riveted' is as good as any
for me.
'Are you i'll. sirT she inquired, draw
ing little nearer.
Not very.' he replied, although prob
ably an invalid for life'
The end Of this episode is not yet,
thought |, and was right.
My name is Miss Griffin -tss.sare.
Griffin. Most everybody calls me Mag
gie,' she went on by way of introduction.
And my name is Travers-Frederick
Travers. Most everybody calls me Fred
replied her companion; bat kusw by
the tone of my nephew's voice that, for
the moment lie had ceased to think Of
himself and his infrmity. Il am Mrs.
Andrews nephew, at your service
Let US be friends she said, sweetly;
and | knew then, just as well as | know
now, that Maggie Grifiin's hand lay in
that Of the invalid.
/ don't want to say | am sorry for
you,' she continued, because [ think
there are few who like to be pitied. 1t
don't seem to me that I.should care about
walking; that is, if had plenty of mon
ey, and somebody 20 care for me, and
lots of booksn
But the tremulant in the girls voice
betrayed her, aud the next moment she
was sobbing conclusively. Quick steps
assembled the stairs, and | moved away
from the Threshold very much like per.
sou caught in the act of stealing. What
occurred subsequently l did not know un-
til some time after. l tried 70 conceal
my abstraction and appear as usual, and
was relieved when, few minutes after,
Miss Griffin took her seat at the piano,
and with brilliant sweep of her little
fingers commenced the Laughing Song
How she did laugh, and, how she did
sing! For a week after, the echo of those
bewitching strains seemed to meet me in
the far corners of the house, and only
ten minutes before she was sobbipg as if
her heart would break.
| never heard Maggie sing so WELL
observed lady friend.
She really excells herself
Didn't know that she was singing for
Fred? Didn't know that her voice was
laden with love, and heavily laden, too?
The poor child had not yet begun to feel
its weight.
'Heaven help her, said softly to my
self.
How did you like the singing Fred ?
| asked The next morning at breakfast.
1t was delightful. Of all the GEN.
traItos l ever heard that was the richest.
But who was the fair vocalist2-ior Of
course, she is fair
A stranger, Fred, I answered, care
lessly, CHANGING at his handsome face
"A Miss Griffin Maggie Griffin, l be-
lieve they call her.
His face was like that Of an angel for
moment; inexpressible satisfaction was
depicted on every ineament; but it grad
uallv faded, and the old patient, sombre
look resumed its place. Not another
woid was spoken.
For the next two months Fred receiv-
ed many tiny perfumed notes, and | no.
tlced that Ben 1.-THE footman) made trips
to the postoffice more frequently than
formerly. In the meantime, had met
the young lady on several occasions. and
we became very good friends; but | kept
my own counsel. [ Noticed that for sew