The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1877-08-02
BRED UPON THE W4TERS.

Behind Squire Hilton's house was a
patch of cleared and well-kept wood
land, known to all the neighborhood as
"The Grove" Whenever the Sunday
school desired a picnic, the Squire was
waited upon, and, as a matter of course,
consented to its being used. At other
times, anyone had the privilege of
walking there, and the children came in
the spring to gather wild flowers, or in
the autumn to gather nuts. Therefore
the boy who sat upon the rough wooden
bench fitted between two trees, with
his head upon his hands, was not tres
passing.
He was a tall, gaunt boy, with his 10th
birthday close before him. His clothes
were threadbare, but he had decent
look. He was past the age at which
boys generally indulge in tears, but he
was crying. Indeed, he had come to
that place for the express purpose of in
dulging his feelings unobserved. His
hope of solitude proved a vain one,
however, Engrossed in his grief, he
al not heard the sound of foots teps
when, looking up, he saw standing be-
fore him a girl of Is, Squire Hilton's
only daughter, born when his days were
on the very verge of winter-herself the
perfect embodiment of spring.
She was a happy creature. who had
never known care, who never thought it
II 81, a i,
she might not have one who, knowing
herself rich and beautiful, but without
pride or vanity, loved her father and
mother intensely, and with good will for
a world in which she as yet knew not
that there was any harm. A girl who,
in virtue of aristocratic position in that
New England village, was as much un-
der espionage as any French girl ever
was. Yet, with this advantage, she had
no idea that she was guarded, or that
there was anything not to be known by
her, or anyone she might not know.
Therefore, knowing no reason why she
should not address anyone, and knowing
the boy by name, she stood looking at
him moment, and then said. softly
"Why, Edward Burr what is the
matter2 Oh, I know; heard of it !;
your father is dead I am very sorry" :"
Its not very manly to cry, Miss Hill
ton, !" said the boy, standing up, and COM
posing his features as well as he could !;
but [ could not help it; he was all I
had, aud it was SO sudden. I didn't t
mean anyone should see me, though y
Boys and men must have feelings
rs well as girls and women" said Phe-
ME Hilton. So I should break my heart
if dear papa should die; and you
haven't any mother, have you?"
Ct have nobody" said the boy, "and
I hate the place. 1 couldn't work here
now, since I've seen father cut down by
that horrible machine. 1 am going to
the city-to New York, Miss Hilton
I'm going to walk there Do you know
how long it win take ?''
s'H How longl" cried Phemie; "why
you could never'walk there it takes
days by the cars and boat; and why do
you go to New York 2"
81 must" said the boy. "Ic can make
my fortune there; father always said
| so.'
Z" Yes, my father says New York is
the place to make money" said Phe-
mie; "but you must have some money
to begin with. Have you any?"
twenty-five cents, said the boy.
"Then you'd starve TO death where
YOU had no friends" said the young
girl. with an air of great wisdom and
experience. But. papa knows every
thing. Come home with me and ash
his advice; he'll tell you what to do
If anybody can tell you what to do, il
is my papa"
''But haven't any business TO bother
him about myself" said the boy. ''l
don't think he'll like it. He'll think M,
forward" :"
'TD tell him [ made you come. 1oJ
needn't be afraid of papa; he's as kim
as kind can be. Come, now"
Much against his will, Edward Bu
followed Miss Hilton through the woods
and across the lawn that encircled th'
SGuire's mansion. More against hi
viii, he entered the broad hall and tn