The Van Buren press., 1872-04-30
MISCELLANY.
How Arthur Kan AWAY.

D.
Arthur was sturdy little fellow
about five years old, with hair like sun
light on French marigold, and littl.
frsckled face, that was very pleasant
face, too. when it did not happen to have
a shade OF discomfort on it, as 1t did jus,
now. at
Arthur was giving his opinion quite
freely to the grea! yellow cat, who sal
perched on the gate post, eycing him
with no very loving glances. Yoa don.
remember, but doubtless Kitty did. the
innumcrsble times when Arthur had tied
the string of bsll.peppers round her
neck. and left her to sneeze her unoffsnd.
ing head Off at her leisure; nor the time
he tied her to the vestry door by the tail,
and she favored the company assembled
at q Methodist watch meeting, with dis
NAL howls in varied keys. eef
Well, as Arthur told his troubles to
his feline friend, she listened with grave
attention, though close observer might
have detected an expression Of latent
malice in the small green disk Of her eye.
81 don't see why great big fellows,
ave years old, that dress their own
selves, ought to be sent down town for q
dozen pearl buttons, every time Miss
Scissors comes. Neither never gives me
a chocolate drop when i get back, eivar.
and Miss Ellis always does, and"
Here his eye fell on tall. angular ng-
urc, stalking down the lane. envelopetl
in an unusually gaudy Bay State shawl,
and carrying few necessary articles,
such as q parasol, bundle of patterns,
a reticule, an extra shawl, etc.
"Mother Mardon, you don't mean
Miss Cilicia is coming here again Y'
"Yes, she is," was the reply from
within, land want you--"A What she
wanted Arthur did not stop to see, but
darted up the lane, as Il grizzlcy bears
were in hot pursuit. Z
He finally stopped before large old
fashioned house, with lavender, heath
and sweet williams growing within the
white palings, and--ycs. fair young
lady just stepping out OF the dosr 1t
was his Sunday school teacher.
"Why, Artic, (" and Miss Ellis stoop-
ed for . kiss" what brings my little
boy up here at eight clock in the morn
ingT' e
"Oh. / don't know! nothing particu-
lar, I guess, (" said Arthur, indi differently.
:" shouldn't wonder, eivsr, ifI had run
away"
run away" and the blue eyes grow
sober "Why Arlis! But l suppose
you mean you are going right backf''
20, no." said Artio, disdainfully,
"that wouldn't be running away at all
/ shan't 20 home till tomorrow, any
how, and perhaps | shsn't for fifteen
years ff6
Miss Ellis smiled, but only said, "If
you will come with me Artic, ] II show
you sad little sight, thatis very differ
cut from your nice pleasant home. The
little boy we are going to see has never
walked in his life; his mother is dcad,
and he lies all alone in his room. while
his father is at work. ] have been to
see him very often, and have read to him,
and taken flowers to him; but am
afraid / shall never do that any more"
They went into dark, dirty street,
known as "Rag Alley" and stopped be
fore house equally dark and dirty. but
into which ray Of light had fallen four
years before.
In small room on low bed lay
little creature, strangely bent and twist
ed, but with face so sweet and touch
ing In its beauty, that Arthur held his
breath. The great, wonderful blue eyes
had . light more OF heaven than earth ;
the white forehead, where the bluo veins
showed plainly, was shaded by long
curls Of pale gold color. Tho face. With
it's look ofpatient suffering. Frightened
as Miss Ellis entered, and littIo thin
hand was held oat to her. ,gfi 4
"I'm so glad you have comet he
said, with little sigh. "What little
boy is that tY'ps'' --o9.nf sHoh
It's little Arthur, Teddy" said Miss
Ellis she has come to SEQ you, because
he is so sorry you are sick"
~ am glad you are well, little boy"
said Teddy, gravely. Ii father there p
A bundle of rags, with gray head
above, rose from its kneeling position
at the foot Of tho bed, and came round to
touch the little face with tender, loving
touch.
"How long has he been 50, Dennis n
asked M,ss Ellis.
"Since yesterday, num-" was the re-
ply. "Ths docthur says he can only
last little while, now, tho little saint he
Ia, fathers poor little patient saintl
There we're tears in his eyes, but he
knelt down by the bedside. drawing his
rough coat sleeve across his face.