The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1877-12-26

little girls and their governess had done
it all.
While my friend and his wife were
embracing and thanking the children, /
I had time to notice the governess. She
was very young, almost a child herself.
A mass of bright hair was gathered up
in great waves at each side of her head,
and fastened in a loose thick loop be-
hind. The bright curls were so arranged
MS to reveal the ear. The ear and cheek
we're, should rather say they are like
those painted by Leighton in his
Painters Honeymoon" Need / say
more of their ravishing loveliness But
the pretty blue eyes looked as if they
had cried a great deal, and there had
been recent tears, for the eyelids were
somewhat swollen. She was not sad,
however, for she played on the piano for
the children and for me, their old god
father, to dance to, and she joined with
MS in game of blind mans buff. When
the children retired, she retired also.
"What charming person, 1 said.
"She is most excellent" said. my
friend.
Although she is so young, Miss
is the bread provider of her family. Her
father and mother have, according to
the cant phrase, seen better days in
fact, they are people Of good birth, and
once had good fortune. They have-a
son and daughter /; the son is fine fell
low also. Both the son and daughter
give the greater part Of their earnings
to their parents but the son has not
been very fortunate. My little COVER
ness, she is only seventeen, (my chill.
dren are so young they do not require
prim regular governess,) docs more
with her salary, mediocre as it is, than
her brother can do with his hard work.
Heis a clerk in bank"
"And she helps him also, suppose 2"
! &C dare say she does, but | have new
er inquired, for she is full OF reticence
and reserve en- these points, l only know
she would set up all night, and work
like horse all day, to help both her
parents and her brother. She is going
home tomorrow and he, / fear, cannot
afford the expense of the journey. The
parents live now in Scotland.
"Could we not help him ?" said,
bashfully.
My friend smiled. Both brother and
sister spent Christmas at home.
My good fortune threw me good
deal after this with my friends COVER
ness. Must say from that Christmas
Eve was never heart whole?
The following Easter we were en-
gagged, and before the Christmas Eve
which followed we were married. What
tn aim and hope my life has now ac-
quired
We have little suburban home, and
leave my wife every morning to pursue
my editorial labors, and return every
evening, forgetting my work and my
worries, knowing that the sweetest heart
and the fairest face have ever known
await me in my modest but happy home.
1 never heard again from the author of
the manuscript which had so much in
terested me and, truth to tell, had
never thought of her since that Christ
mas Eve. Two or three years have
passed since then, and we have two
babies.
Their mother is always playing with
them She often puts her delicate,
slender white hands under my baby
girls foot, and the baby makes believe
to stand on it. What picture it is it
is like a rosebud laid on white
camelia.
As walked up and down the room
reading scratchy, scrawly manuscript,
and fumbling over it in desperation, for
the tiresome person who had sent it had
by some ingenious carelessness mulcted
it of its last page, my thoughts flew far
and wide, and, by some association l
cannot attempt to explain, the pretty
manuscript from the youthful writer
who had sent me no more was recalled
10 me
UnconsciOusly the manuscript held
faded from my mind, and the other was
present with me. wondered what had
become of her-had she written any
more ?--where and how was she?
Every moment became more and
more possessed with the memory. l
was so happy myself that felt for all
who seemed to have care and struggle
in their lives, looked out the address to
which had written before, and wrote
to the unknown few lines. said that
time had passed, that the youthful in
experience which had prevented d the
paper she had sent from being accepted
must now be corrected, and that should
be glad and willing to see anything else
she had written, if she had written any
thing since then.
Within few days I had an answer,
The writing was in feigned hand, quite
unlike the round, hesitating, girlish
hand / remembered. The words were,
however, as sweet and innocent as the
first had been. The note ran as follows:
at is so good of you to remember
me, but 1 do not write any more. am
so happy. l have a dear, good, noble
husband. [Oh, these womanly exaggera-
items, thought, as sat in my editorial
chair] And such darling babies ! /
wrote, for 1 wanted to help my dear
ones, bat they have been better helped
by others than l could ever have hoped
to help them. God has given them a
better friend than could be. If you