Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1877-08-23
ONE MANS HEART.
BY 8. ANNIE FROST.


From Godey's Lady's Book.
Not gentleman, you might have
said, scanning his hands labor har-
dened, his coarse workman's suit, his
SUM- Drowned face. And yet there was
no truer type of natures nobleman
than Nathan Calcroft personated. He
was handsome man, with large brown
eyes, soft as woman's; waving brown
hair that would have made curls, had
he permitted it to grow to the requi-
site length; a tall, well-knit figure,
easily graceful in every movent. A
well read man, although earning his
bread as a paper hanger, but Selling
every leisure hour for self-culture,
reading only solid literature, and
thinking over IN his days work what
he had perused in his evening rest.
His mother, old and feeble. could re-
call, in the twenty years of Nathan's
life, no tears shed for him, no heart
aches caused by him, only tender
care for her widowed life, gentle af-
lection at all times.
He is as strong as an OK and as
gentle as baby the old lady would
say, with happy tears in her eyes.
This was the man who, walking
home from his days work in the gath
ering gloom of a winters evening,
heard first curse in a mans harsh
voice, then blow, and then a weak,
wailing cry, and the words, painfully
sobbed, 4 can't walk any further. II
you beat me to death,I cannot 60 on.
Stay there, then, and freeze = was
the brutal reply, and heavy steps re-
treated on the hard pavement.
Nathan had been approaching rap
idly, and soon stood near a bundle OF
rags crouched upon the hard ground,
from which came weak sobs. He
stopped and touched ragged shawl,
and then little white pinched face
looked up. Il can't, was the shivering
cry,I can't stand up
Nathan lifted her then and strobe
homeward, not knowing that the
dead weight he felt, the cessation of the
quivering sobs, were caused by total
insensi bility in his living burden. In
to the cosy little sitting room, where
Mrs. Calcroft was knitting, he passed
quickly from the keene air, and only
then saw plainly what he carried. A
child, little girl of twelve or thirteen
years of age, emaciated, white, evident
ly almost dying, hugging violin in
her sticks of arms, barefooted, ragged,
utterly forlorn. But her features
were cut as delicately as cameo ;
her tangled mass of eurls was like
FURNISHED gold; her hands and feet OF
fairy-like proportions. Under the
heavy lids were eyes like twin violets;
but Nathan did not see them, as he
put the child upon wide lounge and
gently chaffed he feet and hands.
Mrs. Colcroft lost no time in ques
tons The state of affairs was plain
ly visible, and the little old lady bust
led about bringing brandy, large
shawl, bottle of perfume, as il the
advent of frozen, starved street-waifs
was of daily occurrence. Brandy
forced between the blue lips, an at
mosphere of pleasant warmth and
strong perfume under the nostrils re-
stored animation after time, and the
great blue eyes opened wonderingly.
Are you better, my dear? ? Mrs.
Calcroft asked, gently, taking the lit
tie wasted hand.
But her answer was only quivering
lips, great tears rolling down silently
and piteous shrinking.
No one will hurt you here, Nathan
said, stroking back the tangled curls.
Presently when you are stronger,you
shall have some supper with us, and
tell us where your home is
Don't take me back !! Put me in
tie street but don't take me back
Il will not
a rash promise, but Nathan spoke
resolutely, and the wan little face lost
its expression of terror.
But the supper was barely tasted,
and before morning the child was
rsving in delirious fever. Faithfully
Mrs. Calcroft nursed aud tended her,
and by the time health was coming
slowly back, strang band of affec-
ton united the three. The story the
child told was a strange one. and yet
she believed it firmly. She remem-
bered supurb home, mother, and
=, ol1 nan che callad mana She re.