The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1878-01-25

Il will walk with you, if you will al
low me, Miss Dane,' he said. Il find
your road lies in the same direction as
mine"
~0h, thank you, she returned; thank
you very much. But indeed. am not
at all afraid; there's nothing to hurt me.
He seemed a very pleasant man, this
clergyman, but quiet old compared to
Bertha; thirty four, at least; a rather tall
man, with good, friendly face. They
chatted away on many subjects, chiefly
on music, and Miss Carpenters wonder
ful voice
"Ay, she'll not stay al Crossdale long
he observed. A voice like that must
make its mark
You are fond Of music, are you not?"
asked Bertha.
Very fond of it indeed. But | Meth
er play nor sing"
Goa, what pity"
DO you think So" he returned, smil-
ing at her naive remark. Il can hear
others; that is better than singing my
self It-Oh, is this your home?"
For Bertha had stopped at the gate.
He held his hand out to wish her good
night.
Tell your father that you have been
taken care Of" he said. L
at is my uncle and aunt that 1 live
WITH interrupted Bertha. Papa died
long while ago. He was a clergyman" !"
"a clergyman" echoed the stranger,
some surprise inshis tone, as though he
thought her poor attire was not much in
accordance with what befitted clergy
mans daughter; at least that was the
construction Bertha put upon it. Dane?
-Dane2 He was not the Reverend
Richard Dane, was he, curate of Alling
ham,
"Yes he was, said Bertha.
The strangers answer was to take both
her hands in his. "We are old friends"
he said with enthusiasm. "You don't
remember me, 1 dare say, but was
once staying in your house, reading with
your father. You were a pretty little
child of five or six. and I used TO nurse
you on my knee and call You little
Queen Berthy."
"I-think-I do-remember,7 said
Bertha slowly, But papa always had
young men reading with him. Only
one at time; there was no room for
more: as soon as one left another came"
"And he is dead, you say? Poor Dane,
1 have not heard from him for years.
but thought he might have got better
curacy-or perhaps a living"
He died nearly six years agoat Alling
ham when l was fourteen. Mamma
died just before him."
Dear, dear? And you are living herel
But 1 must not keep you any longer,
Miss Dane. hope you will allow me
to call and see you, and to make &C
quaintance with your aunt and uncle |
shall never forget your fathers kindness
to me-"
"Yes, please come" answered Bertha
in an unsophisticated way. al am so
glad to meet some one who can talk to
me about papa and mamma. Nobody in
all Crossdale knew them except Aunt
Penelope. Have you far to go to-night?"
About three parts of mile-up to
Little Crossdale. Goodnight"
From a romance to reality is not far
and having scared with Handel above al
temporal and earthly YanIties, and just
parted with this delightful new friend,
Bertha was called to earth, by the high
tones of her aunt's voice, evidently in
hot dispute with Uncle Stephen.
ats all nonsense" she was saying as
Bertha entered. If the girl would give
up her nonsensical music and attend to
her sewing and her housework, it would
be better for all of us. Gallivanting out
at night instead of darning the stock
ings, and leaving you at home to look
after things Here l find the lamp in a
black smoke, every spark of fire in the
house gone out, and you buried in your,
Creation and st. Paul. and all the rest
Of the stuff Where's the good of it?"
"You don't like music, Penelope, and
can't understand the good in it. 1t takes
one right out of the world"
where's the use of that" demanded
Aunt Pen. you have to come back to
the world again"
Stephen sighed. Sometimes he did
wish he could get out of the world alto
gether; at any rate, out of the range of
its sharp tongues. Bertha, taking the |
Of a moments lull, tod Gag
erly of the great honor in store for her
that she was to sing duet with Miss
Carpenter at the concert. II aroused !
Aunt PENS wrath
What she cried. "Sing a duet in
public, in the face and eyes Of Crossdale,
No, never. You are my own sisters
child, and I'll never see you on the stage
-disgracing the familyr
'On the stagel Oh, Aunty,'
"It's as bad as the stage" cried Aunt
Pen. Where's the difference?"
"But-this-is-an--oratorio, aunt"
said Bertha lmpressively, the tears start
ng in her eyes. "And you know that
adies in the best families in Caossdale
ire to sing in it."
I'D not give penny to hear all the
in the world" retorted Aun
Pen, slightly diverging from the subject,
ls it is in the habit of talkative ladies to
10. "And pray, where would you get a
lress from, to stand up and sing in? The
clouds would not rain one down. No
rou must just make up your mind TO
luit the society from to night. and stay
II home"
Bertha burst into tears Uncle Steph-
N lighted his pipe meekly, and sat down
o smoke it. Just then Sally was heard
and Aunt Pen stalked forth
% find fault with her in the kitchen.
Don't cry, child" said he. "She al
ways says more than she means, you
Inow, when things go wrong; and l did
orget the fires and the lamp. 1t was
hat made her angry; she thought it
have happened but for my let
ing you go out"
But, Uncle Stephen, I'd not miss the
,ratorio for the world We have been
for it so long
"Oh, she'll let you go when the time
omes. And she and 1 will go too-at
east, / will, You will get two tickets
iven you as a member"
As Bertha dried her eyes, she began
cling of the strange clergyman who had