The Lake County star. [volume] (Chase, Mich.) 1873-current, 1873-05-15

"And you're going to see your
grandmother, ell (? with little
pat of butter and a loaf of white
bread T.
"No, SIR" said Lillian, secretly
thinking the gentleman must be
crazy. SIN getting autumn
leaves for mamma"
"Oh |" said Mr.. Beverley, 81
thought you must be Little Red
Riding-hood."
81 am Lillian Escourt," said she
solcmnly.
"Do you know" said the gen
tleman, lifting ono of her sunny
rinSlets with his finger, 81 came
very near shooting you? l took
you for a robin red-breast."
Lily retreatod in some appre-
hension, cycling the big glittering
rifle as she did so.
81 shouldn't like to be shot,"
said she.
"ProbaLly not" asscntcd Mr..
BE verley. "Ilallo 2 you've got the
little basket full"
"Yes, qnite full" SAID Lillian,
with innocent pride. "Mamma
will think they are very pretty"
"What docs che do with theml"
said Mr.. Beverley. snake fairy
gold z"
"No, SIR" Lillian answered
again puzzled. "She makes crosses
and wreaths to SELL"
"Oh, that's it, eh! Well, can
take You where there's tree with
leaves as rcd as if they had been
painted in vermillion. Give me
your hand, tor it's a rough road"
Oucc or twice, as they walked
along, Brian Beverley caught her
earnest brown eyes fixed intently
OH his face.
"Well," said he at last, Sand
what do you think Of me, Little
Red Riding-hoodl"
81 think you are NICE" returned
the small physiogonist.
"You don't regard me in the
light Of a wolf then z"
Lillian shook her head, as she
skipped along by his side.
"Oh!" she cried suddenly, as
they nearcd the edge Of a steep
ravine, ut whose bottom a noisy
s,resm gurgled over brown, mos
sy stones, "what a lovely rcd vine!
I can get some of those leaves, l
know"
"Stop!" cried Mr.. Beverley
suddenly, as he noted the almost
perpendicular rock over whose
gray ledges the scarlet vine hung
in wildly graceful festoons; but he
was too late.
Little Lillian EStcourt had
sprung forward; her foot slipped
on the deceitful green moss; the
vine to which she instinctively
clung and the next instant she
had vanished from Brian Bcver
lcy's terrified vision.
Only little heap of fclothes lay
on the bank OF the rivulet below,
with the scarlet hood making a
blot of vivid color not unlike a
pool Of blood. He called, but
she did not stir; and with set
teeth and pale cheek, he hurried
down the steep winding path that
led to the base of the ravine.
"Good Heavens!" he murmur-
ed to himself; ''if she should be
dead -
But Lillian Eecourt was not dead
-.ouly crippled for life. Mrs.
Escourt stood with clasped han ls
hands above her darling.
"lf she should die!" che gasped
scarcely above her breath. eff
God should take my little one
from mel"
Poverty, trial, suffering, were
all t,rgotten, and Helen Estcourt
only remembered that she was a
mother, and that the shadow Of
The Valley Of Death hung darkly
over her child.
1t was long and tedious recov.
ry, but Brian Beverley kept HE
post at the SHE Of the little bed,
tireless in his patience, incxhaust.
ible in his stock of fairy tales and
elfin legends.
90, Mr.. Beverley, 1 like you so
much!" said innocent Lillian. III
wish you would stay here always.
Mamma don't youS"
And Brian, who had nearei the
age of forty without 30 much as a
pet dog or cat to mics him when