The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1871-05-18
MY TRUST.
wa1T1Es roH raE SATURDAY EVENING POST
BYs. ANNIE FROST.

"DEAR MARk,-'.:~
~ want a partner
Can you come, old friend7 The prsv
tice is hsndsome support for two. and
I am the only doctor 10 tho town .od
driven nearly to Death &C., &c. ~.> -.
This was the momentous sentence
il : long letter. from ny old friend.
Tom Chamberlain, that took me from
my seapsy pttstiee end dism Il of6se in
the large town Of c.. to q home
in tho smaller one OF Jamestown, where
| 'dy.t the n; 2. mentioned .boveo Ftou:
the time vbeo ~ve had shared apples
and peanuts tose.lss, through school
and college and until tho day When
Die marriage took him from o.,
Tom ,.hd T had been ks., n 8+n4fhtiiends. fri
Five yea,s III seaior.- his peculiarly
joyous and thfpl spirit had made
rom young bpgh ia heart aud action
for eoogeu,ahty with my juvenile self;
aven IN the spple and peanut days; aud
as We grew older difference in age b..
came oven less in importance. Tvel.
years Tom had been a husb.nd wh.u
he wrote to me, inhe'i.'ns from bi i.
f.ther,in-l.v something Of the extensive
practice to which he referred j.; but a few
hort months previous 1 had received
another, blaek .bordercd epi<tle, telling
me he Vas . vidoxer. I knew some.
thing Of the sgooy he suffered, though
the letter wss brief, and almost cold. in
expression. Perhaps its very hardness
tol the story, contrasting as it did with
the warm, open tone of all his corres-
pondeuee. In his future letters he
never spoke Of her, though each pre-
vious ono hxl sung her praises and that
# their only child,
+ 1t was late on a bright, summer after.
noon when the hired coach set me
down At Dr.. Chamberlain's door, and l
crossed the little front garden and as
cended the steps of the vine-covered
porch. My hand was on the bell ham
die, when thu door opened, and a little
gill standing in the open space said:
"You are DR.. Temple, arc you not !?
Papa was very sorry not to NEE, you at
the station, but he was called to the
other end of the town. He told me to
watch for you and make you feel at
home. I am Lisa"
l thanked her, and followed her into
the pretty parlor.
"Will you lie down On the sofa, or
sit 10 this big chair by the window p
she questioned, taking my hat and cane.
''Jane will see to your trunks, kind papa
will lie home to tea"
II will sit here," I said, taking the
big chair, land you will sit here, clote
beside me, and make me feel at home,
by telling me all about the town and
who are your own friends, will you
not ?"
She seated herself where 1 had in.
dicated without any shy ness, and after
Z moment Of silence she said:
81 cannot tell you much about Lines.
town, for l 60 out very little, and 1
have no friends. Shall I tell you abou.
s9me Of p.pa's sick folks?"
l .ssented, sod while in her grave,
uuchildike vsy she told mo Of the
''Poor, dear little baby that had such .
terrible fall," and "the old blind woman
that paps though, was dying" and
"ths darling little girl going soon to
Heaven" l studied the little face.
She va very: small, even for ten
yeazs old, pale and thoaghtfaI, With
Intellect written or, her. broad. white
forehead, and the promise 1t a uoolv
>onan's soul looking from her glorious
large eyes. Her features were go,,d,
her mouth Of rare sweetness, but ; the
crowoing glory Of her face lay id those
wondrous brown eyes. Scarcely be.
yond earliest childhood, her t.ce was
earnest and m.tured far beyond her
years.. To nsit-was painful to see her
80 unehild'l'ke, and simple black dress,
unrelisved BY any white, added to tho
sobering effect. ;:
Ny drst words Of privacy that even.
ing when Tom and 1 sat late iu the Of.
fee were Of Lisa. He sighed heavily a.
he said
"Aer mother was an invalid from tns
d.y'when thls child first lay in her
AIMS, aud the l'ttls thing was sohooled
from babyhood to quiet and thought.
falne''. OF course We had house.
keeper when Mary first became too