The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1873-06-07
THE STORY SHE TOLD NE.
BY NJ. A. pENIsoN,

me with Il beautiful baby In her arms
| had been attracted by the charming ap
pearance of the little cottage at the door ol
which | asked for some water. Being hidden
TO enter, | sat now at the tasteful tiny bay
window, covered with Towering vines and
drank my glass of cool, sweet milk.
This home.intcriOr was a picture in Itself
The furniture though made by skilltul nm
gers, had felt no touch of the fashionable
upholsterer The homely walls were deco.
rated with simple pictures, dried grasses and
ferns The floor was painted and vanished,
and made beautiful with pretty rugs and
mats Not the least attractive OF its orna-
ments was that little mother, mere girl yet,
it seemed, with her wonderful wealth OF
golden hair coiled round perfectly formed
head her soft eyes and gentle, wOmanly ways.
The baby on her knee was study; no hoard
cd wealth OF art in classic marble could sur
pass the beauty of this lowly-born child.
We were friends from the first, this little
girl-woman and |. Some way she seemed
willing to pour into my elderly ear little con
tidenccs that might have justified maturcr
friendship. So, AS | moved about the dear
little nest and happened to spy choice piece
of workmanship, she said
You're looking at that pretty thing
YES" said |, lit is even more than pretty
it is exquisite"
so it is, and everything that's Ben's taste
is Justly So" she replied with glow of pride
ben went TO the fair couldn't go well, for
baby was aling, but that was no reason he
should stay at home; couldn't be as unrcas-
enable as some women. | didn't expect he'd
bring me more than cushion for pins, or
some neat little tancy-but no, he must buy
that or nothing I'm sure its only lady
should have such things not poor mill
hands wife; but you see Ben thinks differ
emily"
How it was this dear little woman came to
tell me her story, / won't repeat, only give it
to you in her own direct pretty, artlcss fash
ion So no more of me. This is the way she
began it:
You're looking at me, | see and saying
to yourself, which is true, there's nothing AT
all taking about this plain little woman Ben
says there is; he laughs at me and declares |
underrate myself, foolishly but bless your
heart can't | see: My eyes, you take notice,
are light and gray, sometimes quite colorless,
and rs | look at them when comb my hair
| think that Britson our tortoise-shell cat, has
deal more beautiful ones but there again
Ben declares that my eyes are my greatest
beauty-and-oh dear, how can the man talk
so,
MY forehead is low, and in summer the
treCkles will come, though now, deep in Sep
TENDER, of course it is white enough; and my
hair would be that horrible color, red, only
sometimes there's tnge Of brown in it that
is rather pretty I'll allow. Still, altogether,
nobody would think of calling me handsome, |
even though Ben does say my profile is quite |
perfect.
If you care to hear it, have fretted badly, |
ever since was child, because people call
ed me plain Why | should have minded,
hardly know myself; there were but few of
the elements of beauty in the hOme-surround-
ings where | grew up out OF childhood-I
mean aesthetic beauty, as Ben call it
My mother was poor my father always
weakly from hurt he got when quite young:
my brothers and sisters more numerous than
! thought they needed to be.
"Onc of the little ones, her name was Mat
ty-thc dearest little human blossom that ever
made the world brighter and sweeer-this
boy favors her-had glorious eyes Every
body who saw her, turned to look again to
see her eyes, they said, in which one could
look down into her soul, and read it like an
open book Dear little angel That made
me take more notice when people called me
q plain little thing. do believe worship,
ped beauty for beauty S sake, 1t never entered
into my little heather head 10 trace Gods
hand in it, or love Him for it, We learned
little of Him through human means, on that
wild sea-shore where the waves sometimes |
crcpt quite close up to the clumsy hut we
called home. ,
Now you see how really plain am, and {
what truly think of mysclf-homely, short |
ungracctul; and yet Ben, the foolish fellow :
stands 10 it ! am handsome G
Ben the great, glorious, noble fellow | I
hope you'll pardon me, madam, he's my huS. |
band, but can't help praising him He has :
made me all | am for good. | wish you q
could see him; you would smile at the con.
trast, for Ben i as handsome as am homely
| don't care where he goes, Ben would be no.
ticed, even in his rough clothes, above many :
and many man of fashion, and | am proud ,
to say 50. His hair is the real, rich auburn. \
and Curls enough TO turn and wave and shine .
against his temples, and his eyes are the real q
hazel, SO large and soft and tender The =
finest gentleman might envy him his Silkcn g
moustachc and the beard that ripple, overhis
chin. q
Ben is an orphan When father moved |
into Hilbro' he had an easy place offered him /
in the largest cotton mill. Ben seeing him,
took fancy to his quiet ways, because he
thought he wa, like his own father, who was
killed by frightfu accident Whoever Ben
liked, liked him; he was the most coveted
piece Of humanity in the Hilbro' mills; the
girls were always talking of him, and long
before | saw bin, wondered about him. and
wondered how he looked.
Father was determined to keep his girls
out OF the mills as long as possible he
thought them bad place for young people,
50 mother and did plain sewing.
-Four Of the children died-littlc Matiy
was the last II seemed hard to shut down
the coffin-lid over those glorious eyes but we
did, and often think how beautiful She must
be in heaven. There was baby; John, my
oldest brother, worked in the mill, and little
Annie who had been famed by fall, and TO
be helped about more or less by mother and
me- for, poor child, she would never walk like
the rest of Us, the doctor said
Il shall never forget the day met Lottie
Hill and Ben Munsen. IL was strange |
should have seen them nearly at the same
lime and recognized them both without
moving either.
"If ever you see Lottie Hill, you'll see
perfect beauty; shes not Lotte Hill now, bu, |
I'm coming to that. | was dragging little |