Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1875-06-11

IellOW-lOQgcrS, anu Sne Is HOI tlio hluo VI
girl to meet one on the stairs, accident
ally, for the purpose"
"That was how your mother and got
acquainted"
"I did not know that, father"
Will spoke with an air of regretful
apology that was understood and ac-
cepted, but silently.
Dreamily, in the hush of old memories,
the father walked away to his work.
Will sat down before the window to
finish some drawings, but the thick,
square pencil made idle marks, while the
eyes that should have guided it sought
the only Bit of nature within sight-the
strip Of changing sky between the house
JUps. Many q bold design had come
from those sweeping cloud-kaleido-
scopes. None came now. Will was
muslng. How could man work, with
that sweet, imperious "Willie, Willie
ringing in his ears? 1t was worse dis
traction than his mothers scolding, for
he could not be sure that he really wanted
TO forget this.
"I am glad have never seen her" he
said, with long breath that did not
sound like content. Then he tried to say
"Willie" in her tones, and, as a look OF
patient disgust marked his conscious
ness of failure, he put on his cap and
went out. s~e-
The haunting voice became pres
ence all too soon. As VIII came home
she met him in the passage; little,
swift gliding figure, with soft, dark eyes
set in pale fair face. "Not bit like
mother" he thought, with curious feel
ing of satisfaction; but as she passed he
saw that her eyes were humid with fear
and grief.
."What is the matter?" he asked invol-
UNFAIRLY.
Willie! cholera! the doctor" she
answered, rushing by into the street that
was wet with a stormy rain.
"Stay | can go faster" cried viii, fol
lowing her. You go back to your
brother" She obeyed at once with the
quick docility of a gentle intelligence
and he thought again: Mother would
have talked for an hour"
The doctor came soon, but not soon
enough. Willie was very Ill.
Bravely the little fellow struggled, but
the foe was too strong for him.
"Strange," the doctor muttered I'M
patiently; the last cases are SO often
the worst. thought it was over for this
year"
A week before another lodger in the
same house, gluttonous man, had MADE
himself ill feasting on mussels and plums
and beer; he recovered, but the poison
thus brought into the house fastened on
the weakest there. The child died. There
was nothing more to be done for him
All at once, for the first time in his little
| life, Willie wantc 1-nOthing; not ever
his sister She went about her necessary
work with an oppressive, beWllderec
sense of leisure upon her. And Will
the Joyous voice alone had distracted
him so, how could he work now?-noN
that it recalled the meek, desolate face
of the mourner; now that the cry hao
changed into such pitiful, beseechlng
willie! Willier'
The day after Willie was buried it hap
pened that Will paid his rent, and took
that opportunity TO inquire after his TEL
low-lodger.
"Poor young thing" said the mother
ly landlady, "it makes my heart ache
to see her up there in the little room
where they were so happy, those two
She SAYS the very walls seem writer
with his name, and the things he used te
touch cry Alice, Alice just as he
called for her at the last; it is enough
to craze her; there isn't an empty room
in the house, or she should have it fCl
| bit"
"Ask her to change with me-" sale
Will, eagerly; "tell her l should be 81
| clad if She would not mind; the ligh
there would suit me better"
Alice consented doubtfully. st
seems like deserting WILL" she said
"and vet one has no right to let oneself
get i'll; tell Mr.. Blake accept his offe1
gratefully"
She had grown little stately in hel
solitary grief, and Will stamme-ed ovel
his premeditated speech. My name il
Willie, too; couldn't you take me fol
your brother?"
| "Oh, no." she answered with direc
simplicity, "he was so naughty, the dar
ling; | never could have him out OF my
thoughts for moment"
Alice herself had this kind of naughti
ness for Will, and now, living in he
room, he seemed to be encompassed b.
her presence; his tools and work fel
rough and coarse amidst the little daint,
arrangements that marked womanl
hand.
eff it hadn't been for knowing moth
er," he mused, one evening, Nigh
fall in love, / do believe; as it is, knoV
better"
So, knowing BETTER" he shrank from
an intercourse that might in some shar
answer bring Alice down from he
pedestal on which he still chose to plac
her, justifying his bright dreams to him
self by saying, 'It is pleasant to max
believe as the children say"
Alice, meanwhile, had found cheer
ing employment in putting Willis room
straight, as she called it. "Such pity
i poor man, for him to live in such mud
die, and him so clever, too"
She had found some torn drawings /
the Uttered fireplace, and CAREFUL
smoothed them out as treasures ovel
locked.
I Will, coming for book, found her thu
busy, and said, smiling:
! They are of no use, ] don't wan
them"
"They seem wonderful to me" sh
said, looking up frankly.
"Ah! just as women's work does to u
put button on my cuff this mornin
and it is off already"
"Let me sew it, have needle here.
VIII muttered something about trout
ling her. but she answered: q ougf
to do anything ] can; you don't kno'
! what good the change of rooms has don
me. I suppose it is like rich ladies 81
ing out of town."
| "You have made a grand improve
ment here" said Will, looking arount
t the same room, the same furniture; bu
/ what had been dreary confusion We
j now fair peace.
= /" wish you woull stay here always,
he added.
. Alice was about to answer, g do M
mind, not understanding him; bat som
E thing in Wills ewes male her own drool
D the little fingers trembled over the