Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1874-10-30
been to my Sunday school. She is in adj
vance Of many older girls in Bible knowi-

Oeeu 10 my Suuday seHoUl. ouo ~ AZ ".
vance Of many older girls in Bible knowi-
edge" ...,.,
Alison" said Mrs. Fairfield. teaching
her everything. / sent her to sunday
SCHOOL, but suppose she'll forget all
she's learned. She played well. too, but
OF course she can have no piano here.
went home with my heAd full OF
schemes. Surely. here was a good work
to be done. knew that was competent
to lead the child still along the paths OF
knowledge her father had opened to her,
and my heart throbbed quickly with pleas
ure at the thought Of young companion
ship in the lonely house.
The more thought of it, the more the
idea pleased me, till felt impatient for
Sunday, to confirm my impressions for the
desirabi1ity of the plan, or to point out
any existing objection.
Sunday made me more anxious than be-
fore to secure the sweet face for Farm
dale, and Monday morning / drove again
to the village.
My plan was to propose to Mrs. Fair
field to come to Farmdale for few
months as resident seamstress. and 10 Of
fer to give Alison some instructions each
day, in part payment for her mothers SER
vices, in order to avoid any appearance OF
charity, that might wound either.
My offer was gladly accepted, and the
middle of the week found the pair domi-
ciled at Farmdale, and my content COM
plete.
shall never forget my sensations when
opening the door of my sitting room. !
found Alison on her knees. sobbing over
the piano, petting and kissing the ivory
keys as if they were living things. / stole
softly away, and little later burst Of
melody broke from the instrument, SO full
of joyous gladness, so triumphant and
grand. that old Margery dropped pie
she was carrying to the oven, to clasp her
hands and listen.
20 Miss Annie Oh, listen to that ?' she
said :"don't it beat any polka you ever
heardp Oh, why don't you play like that,
instead Of making me cry every time you
touch the piano."
! did not stop to explain to Margery that
my mournful music was as it was written
down for me, while this was an inspiration
of genius, but hurried to the sitting room
to find Alison. She was crying still, glad
tears, and talking softly in sweet. musical
Italian.
ibid you learn to play in Italy ?" ]
Partly" she said, blushing deeply.
partly in Paris, and one year in London.
Papa was so fond of music. He liked me
to play when he wrote. He would tell
me when the story must be sad, when it
must be gay, and I would play as he said.
Sometimes he would tell me what the
story was to be. and then could play bet
ter, knowing what he was writing. Did
you ever read papa's stories ? He wrote
such beautiful ones. | have them all.
and will let you read them, if you will
be very careful Of the newspapers and
magazines they are in.''
l promised the utmost care, and many a
long afternoon the child and spent read
ing the tales written under such peculiar
inspiration, some, sad some gay. some
wild and weird, but all telling the same
story Of great talent crushed by circnm-
stances.
The summer months glided by peace
fully. Mrs. Fairfield executed piles of
needlework, my store of clothing being
replenished in extravagant profusion, and
my household linen increasing in like
proportion. And while she stitched, Ali.
son duu IOaiucu AOOut III Tue WoOus, Win
books for company, studied together for
hours, conquered musical difficulties each
day, and were happy. Again, the child
had the intellectual stimulus of pleasing
one she loved by study. and was care
full Of her health, making her walk and
drive with me, aud inviting some of the
village children up for tea drinking oc-
casionally. not often, for the child seemed
Indifferent to youthful society.
Four years sped away, and there was no
change at Farmdale. save that Alison was
becoming woman and her mother was
failing in health. Another year passed
and Mrs. Fairfield died of consumption,
afser allowing me legally to adopted her
child. .-..4
TcoNTINUED TOMORROW.