The Marietta journal. [volume] (Marietta, Ga.) 1866-1909, 1877-02-23
"Trixy.'
"Finished at last |"

him was large steel plate, on
which he had engraved design re
curing the most delicate and cares
full work, and to which he had given
several days of continuous labor.
AS he looked at it, completed, the
expression of proud pleasure invol-
untary upon the face of a man who
had finished piece of work satis>
factorily became cloudy.
That poor child ? he muttered,
and listened to cry of suppressed
sobbing coming from above his half
opened door. With the cloud still
upon his face, he went to the landing
and looked up the narrow staircase
leading to the attic. AS be expect
ed, he saw little figure crouched
upon the upper stair, the head bent
low over folded arms, the bare feet
tucked up under ragged Skirts
The sobbing, though distinctly audi
BILE, was evidently carefully choked
down. .sss.
| "Trixy!" Martin said, in low
tone.
In moment the child was beside
him with quick, darting motion
that suited we'll the slender figure,
thin to painful angularity, the face
that was almost impish in its look
Of want and precocity.
Martin Bruce, tall and strong, with
handsome blonde face, bent low
and met the gaze of her large, in
tensely black eyes, swollen and in>
famed by tears. Silently he lifted
the child, taking her into his own
room, closed the door.
whats the matter now 7" he ask
ed. ~
Il dropped the biggest pitcher of
milk ,
tWhewp
Il couldn't help it!' sobbed the
child, st was SO heavy that my fling
ers got all stiff with ache, and before
knew it my wrists just gave twist
and down it all went
'WhippedY
ooh, didn't she Seen
And the ragged frock was slipped
down to show the sickening welts
upon the thin shoulders. Martin
Bruce gave shudder as he looked,
and going to a washstand brought
some arnica, which be mixed in cool
water and tenderly bathed the
wounds with an old handkerchief.
docs it hurt much p he asked, as
the poor child WINGED under his
touch. aa
ooh, MY mean yes, sir! But
I-don't mind; l know you'll make
it better. Oh!' and again the tears
broke out 4 wish | was dead y
you are too young to wish that,
Tiixy.'
I'm fourteen, if | am little
Fourteen How time flies 1t
seems only yesterday since found
you crying on the stairs, and it is
three years ago!
Trixy nestled close to the hand
extended to caress her gently, as
these words were spoken-the only
hand in the big boarding house that
was ever filled with kindness for
her. She was one OF the New York
waifs from an almshouse, bound out
to a cross taskmistress, who had
been systematically tyrannical from
the first hour she had the child un,
der her rule. Overtasked, half
starved and whipped, Trixy was
stunted, thin and miserable in ap-
pearance, while her ignorance in all
useful knowledge was balanced by a
precocity truly wonderful in lodging
her tasks and evading her punish
ments.
"A hasty, deceitful little baggage,
Mrs. Hays declared her to be, and
it was mournfully true.aa
But Martin Bruce, who occupied
one of the back rooms. Mrs. Hays
provided for boarders, had been
moved with tender compassion for
the child from the first time he found
her sobbing out her misery on the
attic stairs. Many an orange OF
package Of cake had Trixy munched
in Mr.. Braces room, when she was
supposed to be doing penance in hel
wretched closet, only by courtesy 8
room. Many cool lotion had beer
put upon smarting cuts and welts by
Mr.. Bruce's tender hands. Many g
tender caress and kind word hac
passed the bearded lips to comfort
Trixy.
Others had come and gone, and
been kind one day and cross the
next, as the mood seized them bu
MIR. Bruce never varied in kinc
words and acts, though he often
gravely reproved Trixy for her very
conspicuous faults, and tried to cor
rect her vulgarity of word ant
thought.
1t would be impossible to giv'
any adequate idea of the worship
ping affection the child gave in re
turn for this kindly interest. AL
goodness, all manly perfection, wa
to her embodied in the tall, blond
man who came hetween her and he