The Hartford herald. [volume] (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926, 1877-12-05

world. Both were calico, both we're
mended to the last degree. Her only
pair of shoes we're ON her feet. She
was rs neat and clean, her hair was as
smooth, and her hands as white as
those of any Of her little companions,
and they all loved her dearly, none of
them ever thought of her dress, or if
they did, it was with pity. They
knew she could not help having such
father. But not even her mother or
kind Miss Bixby. her mothers friend,
ever dreamed how often the sensitive
little heart ached and the proud spirit
smarted under the sense of being diff
ferent in her circumstances from the
rest.
As she walked home that day she
decided that she would not go, and
that she would not let her mother i'm
agine that she cared much about it.
Still, when she showed the dainty slip
of paper, and said that she had made
up her mind to stay at home, she could
not quite keep tremble out of her
voice, or a CULVER from her lip.
LET me see it, little woman" said
Mr.. Dean, who was at home that day,
and, what was quite too rare an occur
renee, entirely to himself.
"Why can't you go?" he asked.
"Mattieis father and used to be great
friends when we were boys. What
tramps we've had together over these
hills, and how often We planned what
we would do when we were both men !
He's left me far enough behind but
was the better of the two then, NJ II
gle. You ought to go with Matte, |
think"
Il cannot, papa" was the only an
swer Margie made, as she went up the
narrow stairway to her little room
above. There she threw herself on
her bed and wept. think the angels
were sorroy for her. How bitter are
the tears of childhood, and how dark
sorrow can make the sky look to a
being of ten or twelve years old
Left by themselves, the father and
mother were silent. He sat modify
in his chair, his eyes dropping, and
his hands crossed on his lap. She,
with her usual patience, drew the long
threads of silk through the leaves and
flowers of the pattern she was work.
ing for bride
By and by he spoke:
margaret, if it had not been for
me, you and Margie might have been
as well off rs Dinsmore's wife and
child are to-day"
She looked up. She could not deny
the truth of what he said. Hope had
died out of her heart. And yet there
was something new the ring of truer
manliness in his tones as he talked,
and a faint. sweet something, gentle
as the breath Of Spring, stirred in her
soul for moment.
God helping mo- dear vito, l
mean to try once more" he said. Then
he took his at and went out; not
down the street, but 0, wonder of won
ders, to work in the long neglected
little garden, and prepare the ground
for seeds and flowers.
The angels, who pi,tied Margie were
rejoicing that day over Margie's father.
4 day or two after, Matte Dins-
more, with regretful look, told her
mother and Aunt May that Margie
Dean was not coming to her party.
why not ?" said Aunt May.
"Well ] suppose it is really because
she has nothing fit to be seen in. Her
dresses are all worn out, and the girls
all mean to look so nice, that she Is
ashamed"
II thought Margie was superior to
such things" said Mrs. Dinsmore.
ut would be expecting almost too
much" said Aunt Mary, ito ask a lit
tie girl of twelve to have courage of
which you and | would he incapable.
| have admired her fortitude in attend
ing church, dressed as she is; but party
is another thing, l do wonder, Matte,
if you and | could not contrive sur
prise for her, and put it in her power
TO go?"
you would have to be very care
full how you managed it," observed
Mrs Dinsmore Mrs. Dean is very
independent, and has never taken ia.
vors from any one.
"We'll DO it in a delicate way, to be
sure" said Aunt May.
For the next day or two Matte
Dinsmore went about very happy and
important. She had secret on her
her mind; there was mystery in the
air. and plottings were going on, and
the arch conspirator was Aunt May
but though papa and the boys leased,
not one word of the hidden affair did
they guess.
The day before the party, Matte
put her arm around Margie's neck land
whispered, as she kissed her:
Remember, dear, you must come.
l havn't accepted your No"
But Margie was privately quite I'M
moved. Still, she felt much happier
than she had in long time. Some
thing, she hardly knew what, had
come over her father, and he wa:
changed. He had not gone near the
tavern in a week, and her mother and
, she we're both praying that this state o.
things might last.
; About eight o'clock that evening {
; loud knock was heard Mt Mr.. Dean:
, door. He opened it, but nobody was
; there. So he took candle and peereC
into the darkness. Still he saw M
| one, but on the step was large paste
, board box, which he took in. 1t wa
directed to Margie Dean. She united
( the strings which held it, and first he
: eyes rested on layer of the lovies
fiowers-eye-brights and arbutus anC
. sweet-scented violets. Tenderly lift
! ing these out of the way she came up
on a complete suit of clothing for f,
little girl. There was a crisp whit,