The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1874-05-28


that he had no use for the gentle gift
1t was brutal speech TO make, AND
no girl alive would ever have forgiven
him for il, especially when he went 50
far as 20 suggest the transfer OF heT
maiden affections to somebody else
4 But Edward Wallace didn't know any
better. He had no idea in his blessed
iinnoeeace of the storm he was rails
ing. Thee. stopped tapping with her
foot, and sat like stone woman.
why don't you say something
Theo -
she sprang up with a white face,
and her eyes blazing. She stamped
on the heor passiOnately.
''Ned Wallace, don't you ever speak
to me again a. long as you livei"
he started in dlsmay.
} "Do you mean that, Theo ,"
u mean every word of 1t. IL l live
till am hundred years ole, I'll new
er forget nor forgive what you said to
me just now. To tell me TO my face
that you know / am in love with you,
and II lts just as convenient, you wish
I'd make it somebody else. Oh, good
God, it's too much 2"
She covered her face with her hands,
her cheeks flaming with anger and
bitter humiliation. Edward Wallace
made the sudden and uncomfortable
discovery that he had hopelessly put
his foot in it. He knew OF old some
thing or the temper he had aroused
and he stood appalled,.
"Theodora, p said he, with a faint
sound OF emotion in his voice, "you
and have been good ehums all our
lives. Once, when you were a little
girl, / rem ember you had pet kitten
which you liked very much. One day
Won canght that kitten killing some
Young birds. You had liked her bet
ter than anything else in the world.
vet you took the pretty kitten and
stran9led her with your own hands,
and from that day to this you have
never allowed another cat in the
house. Are you going to turn away
from me tonight for good and all ?''
| "Yes," answered TheO., speaking
very slowly, "for good and all. /
/ can't get over things like other peo-
pie. I don't want to. After tonight
| / shall never speak to you again until
1 forgive you, and that will never be
on earth"
f'Then good-by, TheOdora," }" answer
ed he, speaking, unlike himself, very
rapidly. "pm more sorry than can
tell, that I've offended you. Always
remember that when you think Of me,
il you ever do. II you don't find me
here in the morning, you will know
why.n
So he turned and went away. Theo-
dora covered her face with her hands,
and burst into passionate teaIs-the
woman's weak refuge of tears.
Next morning at breakfast TheO.
came into the dining-rOom, and Dad
dy Dinkle handed her a note, and
said:
''Read this to me, Theo. / found it
on my plate just now"
1t was from Edward, and it said:
tDEAR FATHER DINKLEBACH:-
pye started to Brazil. 1 could not do
as you wanted. / know how migrate
full it seems, too, and 1 wish / could
please you, but cannot. Forgive and
forget me, if you can, and may God
bless you and Theo.
EDWARD WALLACE
Daddy Dinkle leaned his head on
his hands and groaned, 1t was a
cruel below, and it stunned him. A
dim mist came over his eyes for q
moment. When he looked up Theo,
was crying Ia the corner. Poor girl
She had learned to conjugate dBlo far
too well. Daddy Dinkle looked at
her. Perhaps il was ''liberal learn-
ingu which made his intuition so fine
and quick. In that moment he
looked down through the past like a
vision, and his own blighted youth
rose before him Ike sorrowful ghost.
He went over 70 Theo. and laid his
hand gently on her head.
'Theo., my girl, don'tcry," he said.
'I have no patience with crying wo-
men. Leave crying to babies, where it
properly belongs. Please God, you and
have many brave days work before
US, my child. Together we will tread
the glorious paths Of learning. We will
climb yet higher heights, my daugh-
tel, and you shall lead and / Twill follow.
We will wait for the promised time
together. In the pursuit Of liberal
learnins there iS perpetual triumph,
unalloyed BY single Pang, the spIen-
did triumph of knowing and under
standing. knowledge places man on
a level with the angels. There are
joy, consolation, and repose. turn
ed there for comfort, long time ago,
and it has never failed me. TheO-
dora, daughter, gift of God to a lonely
old man, come !"
81 will, father"
So two went out to work where it
was to have been three. They never
mentioned the wanderer, never
heard from him. The old man and
the girl shared their studies together.
at length an attack of sickness came
upon Daddy Dinkle, and weakened
him so that he was never quite the
same again. After that TheO. heard
part OF the boys lessons. "Liberal
learning brought her joy and con-
ISOLATION indeed. She seemed quite
happy, sitter q little time. Her eye
was bright as birds and her voice as
sweet, hopeful, and CHEEKY. Year after
year she studied with the old man,
and year after year she took more and
more of the boys lessons in her own
hands. They called her the "girl-
professor" and she laughed, and
went on in her own sunny, spirited,
ambitious way, a steady Inspiration
TO her bows and the old man, now
beginning to be a childish, and losing
his eyesight a little. But her hair
turned gray when she was nineteen
years old.
A lover or two crossed her quiet life,
as the years went on. That was the
only time her bright, sunny spirit
ever seemed disturbed. Her soft pink
cheeks had turned very pale, and she
seemed faint and breathless for a mo-
ment, and then she said mildly and
firmly that her life was devoted to
the old Professor and the boys. She
never looked for, or indeed never
wished for any other life than her
present one. So the flying years still
went on, Theodore lived as much shut
out Of the word as If she and the old
Professor and the boys had been cast
away on 8 green island In mid-ocean.
At last there came a sorrowful day,
when Daddy Dinkle found himself
in total darkness. His wornout eyes
had failed him completely, except for
tears, dear, stricken old man. Those
rained down from his poor old eyes
freely enough, but tears could not
bring back the lost light Of day. And
now Theodore took the old Professors
tasks all on her brave two shoul-
ders, and the academy, for the
cultivation of his liberal learn
ing, fiourished as hardly ever be-
fore. IL was still carried on in
Daddy Dinkle's name, but almost the
only thing he did was to be led to his
old-time chair in the morning, where
he spread out his trembling hands
softly and repeated the opening pray
er, which he had not missed for
twenty years, except during his ILL
ness. The academy boys looked up
70 Theodore with perfect alteration.
She was 80 wise, they thought, and
learned, and yet so young and merry
in her heart, and she could actually
understand boys games. The. most
unruly pupil she ever had surrendered
Internationally when TbeOdora beat
him playing checkers.
"She can play checkers" he said,
in amazement. "She's the first wo-
man l ever saw in my life who could
play checkers"
Daddy Dinkle rubbed his bands with
glee, and said: