Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1873-03-27
SELECTED STORY.
TIL EMERA1DS.

TIL ENERA1Ds.
One wintry afternoon in January,
away up in the bleak attic Of wretch
ed tenement house, a pale, sad-eyed
molnan sat sewing. The garment upon
which was engaged was a very rich
dress. The twilight closed in rapidly
with a binding fall Of snow, a bitter
wailing blast, that made the windows
rattle in the easements. Still the pale
faced woman stitched on.
"Aiother, piped sweet voice from
the cot beneath the window, shall you
get the fine dress donee Oh,my, mother,
I'm so hungry; if I could only have
some tea and bit Of sausage"
She worked on steadily for a few mo-
ments, paused only to brush tear from
her white cheek, then arose and shook
out the glimmering robe.
''Tis done at last" she said: 'now
mothers little girl can have her supper;
only be patient a little longer, Flora
Ross, Ross, where are you my bow!
A manly little fellow came out from
the little bedroom beyond.
''The fine dress Is done, Ross, said
his mother, "and you must run home
with it as fast as you can. Miss Garcia
will be out Of patience, l know. Tell
her couldn't finish it one moment
sooner, and ask her to give you the
money. We must have it tonight
And you can stop in at Mr.. Rays as
you come back and buy some coal, and
we must have some bread and tea, and
q mute of butter, and you must get a
sausage, Ross, for poor little Flora.
'I'il get EN- all, mother" he said,
''and be back in time. You shall have
big sausage, little SIS" he added,
turning toward the cot.
The girl nodded her curly head, and
her great wistful eyes sparkled with
delight.
"And you shall have half Of it Ross,
she piped, in her slender, bird voice:
Hadn't you better put on your thick
jacket, my boy?' continued bis mother;
the wind cuts like knife"
"Pshaw, little mother; l don't mind
the wind" and away he went down the
creaking stairs, and out in the storm
Miss Garcia Fontenay was in perfect
furore of impotence and anger. Her
dear five hundred friends were assem-
bled in the halls below and her hand
some dress had not come home. What
did that beggar woman mean by disap
pointing her? At that moment there
was ring at the door, and voice in
the hall. .-.....
"Please tell Miss Garcia, my mother
could not finish it sooner she wants
the money tonight. !" The servant took
the handsome dress and message.
''l'll never give her another stitch OF
work, cried the angry beauty; Il ought
to have had it three hours ago. Here,
Fanchon, dress me at once; there's not
moment to loose! No, can't pay to-
night; haven't time. He must call to-
morrow"
sBut, we've no fire, and nothing to
eat, and my little sister is sick" called
the boy, pushing up the grand stairway
''Shut that door, Fanchon !! com
manded Miss Gracia And the door
was closed in his face.
From the porch atthe parlor window
Pansie watched the whole scene, her
violet eyes distended with childish
amazement.
"Poor little boy" she said, as Ross
disappeared down the stairway; ''sister
Gracia ought to pay him. 1t must be
dreadful to have no fire and nothing to
eat"
She stood for a moment, balancing
herself on the tip of one dainty foot,
her rosebud face grave and reflective;
then sudden thought flooded her blue
eyes with sunshine, and matching
something from the table, she darted
down stairs. The servant had just clos
ed the street door, but she futtered
past him like a humming bird and
opened it.
On the steps sat Ross, brave little
fellow that he was, his face in his hands
sobbing as if his heart would break.
"Whats the matter, little boy ?" ques-
toned Pansie.
Ross looked up half believing that it
was the face of an angel looking down
upon him through the whirling snow.
80, l cannot go home without the
money" he sobbed; 'poor mother
worked hard, and Flora is sick and so
hungry"
Pansie eyes glistened like the stars
'Here," she said, ''do you take this,
little boy, and buy her lots o'nice
things. IT'S worth great deal; papa
bought it for my birth day present, but
do YOU take it and welcome.
She extended her dimpled hands, and
something like shower of stars
twinkled to the boys feet. He caught
it up in amaze necklace of emeralds,
lustrous, cleaning things, set in tawny
Indian gold.
mo, no. he cried, running up to
where she stood, 81 can't take this
necklace-take it back"
L Nod