Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1876-05-23

ling in the flushed, lovely sleep OF infancy,
with his dark curls thrown back from the
dimped cheeks and one hand underneath
the head
"Yes; he has been in the garden oil
the afternoon, and fell asleep almost the
minute his nurse brought him in.
Dr.. Tracy stood moment looking
down upon the child.
"How pretty he grows. Alb, Nelly,
we have the most precious treasure
Heaven ever gave to his children in this
boy"
Mrs. Tracy's lips quivered-the dowy
shadow crept into her eyes.
"Oh. Henry, if only had my little
Bertha, tool'
"Still brooding on your los. one,
Helen? My dearest, had hoped that
time was healing up that wound in your
breast. Is it wise, is it discreet, thus to
forget the bounties Heaven has given you
in the one gift He has Withdrawn"
IF | could only be certain that she
was indeed lost, Henry sobbed the lail
haired woman. "If could have planted
daisies above her grave. and counted her
growing years in heaven-but | cannot.
She may be in want-she may be i'll OF
suffering, aud so powerless TO aid her
There can be no doubt that she is
dead, Helon," soothed the husband.
Were it otherwise, your brotherir,aw
would long since have communicated
with you"
1T could only believe It'll | could
only ease this aching at my heart" re.
iterated Helen. "Do not think me uI-
grateful. Henry. but indeed cannot
forget my little lost Bertha"
At this moment Harry sat up on the
sofa. loudly claiming his mother 5 atten
tion; and Dr.. Tracy went away with the
pleasant recollection that Helen was
smiling back to her boys smiles. All
where was there ever magnetism like the
touch of chi!d's hand TO soothe the ache
of heart or head
The flaming crimson belt OF the late
sunset glowed suddenly above the Leaf
less October woods; the tall trees that
skirted the lonely road on either side
seemed to stand like gauut sentinels.
DR.. Tracy bultoBed his overcoat one ol
two buttons higher as he drove along the
solitary highway, and felt the raw, pierc-
my chill of the evening air; and all the
time he was thinking OF uelen'5 words.
She was a widow when he married
her, this tair Saxon beauty widow
whom the death of her handsome foreign
swindler OF husband had set free from
a bondage almost worse than slavery
francesca Petroni died; but Paolo Pet
roni. his brother, lived, dark. designing
man. Bertha, their infant child, had
been consigned. by Francesco's desire, ,lc
his brothers care, during the illness thai
proved fatal to him. All the widow 5
subsequent efforts 10 regain possession
of her little one were futile.
"My dear siSter-n-l law" said the lta!
ian to her one day, when her appeals ant
entreaties had been most persistent
There is one way, aud but one way, iol
YOU to receive back Bertha"
And that is
ITO receive me also--as your hus
band!"
Paolo Petroni never forgot nor lorgav'
the recoiling movement, the look OF hor
ror with " hich the English widow receiv
ed his unwelcome proposal.
You will compel him to give my little
one to me, Henry the poor youns
mother had said, on the day that made
her for a second time wife. But whel
Henry Tracy, armed with all tue force
OF the law. went 10 Milan to deman'
possession of his little step-daug hter, 10
Paolo Petroni had utterly disappeared
and Bertha with him.
Search. inquiry. investigation. proved
equally vain; and from that day to thi
"A period of full six years-neither DR.
Tracy nor his wife had ever heard on
word of the little Italian infant Who's
smile had been the first CLEAN OF ligh
that had fallen across the troubled tide o
poor Helen Petroni's foreign life.
1t was one OF those strange, inexplica
Bile romances of real lie that we some
times encounter amid the most prosai
and commonplace surroundings, ant
supplied DR.. Tracy with ample material
for thought as he drove through the will
and desolate part of the country.
Not a particularly pleasant spot thi
at twilight" soliloquiz ed the doctor
leaning forward to catch glimpse OF
single ray of yellow light that streame'
from tue window of cottage few rod
further on. They've lighted their can
dies, l see, and it's high time they did
too"
He sprung from his phaeton and enter
ed the cottage without knocking.
1t presented no very inviting scene.
ru;nous floor, treacherous and uncertain
to the unwary footsteps walls wher
masses of plaster had fallen away. leav
ing the rough laths exposed; and fire