Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-07-28
CAMILLA.

harmless and unnoticed as fly, down to
the cornor of the dingy street, to the little
music shop of Carl Bermann, a music set
tier somewhere in Soho.
There he tinkered all day on broken vio-
lins and other instruments, save on Satur-
day afternoons when he went to the house
Ola small tradesman, to teach the piano
to three or four very stupid girls. Sun
days, he curled up in his den and amused
himself--nobody knew now until Mon
day morning.
There are a few certainties; he never
went to church but he picked ragged
children from the pavement when they
fell near him, and gave them half pennies
when he had any; shared his dinner often
with a NANCY, dirty cur, who acted as
sort Of escape valve for the ill-tempe' of
half the men and women in the street;
and he reused Pat Ryan from his md
night snooze in the gutter, and literally
carried him home to Norah and the chill
dren.
AS for honesty, as neighbor remarked,
''lf ne found five shillings in the streets.
he'd wear out ten shillings worth of
strength and shoe leather to find the own
err"
One cold, d'rk night, Paul was return
ing from his work, with loaf of bread
under one arm and violin under the
other. and nearly fell over small object
crouched on the STEP
"Bless US! what's this?" cried Paul,
striving to regain his equilibrium.
"Only me, STRIP and the small object
stood up,and became very pale, thin and
ragged child.
Are you hurt, little girl?'
mo, sir"
what are you doing here in the cold2"
Nothing"
Why don't you go homer
II amt got any"
"Dear mel Where's your mother"
"In heaventn
At this Paul was dumfounded, and see
ing that great tears were stealing down the
the child's wan face, he thrust the violin
under the arm which had held the bread
and, putting the other around the tiny
figure, he said, ooh, I've got a home, a
real jolly placed Come up and see"
And this is the way old Paul came to
have neat little housckeeper, and to be
buying calico gowns and shoes out of his
poor salary.
People wondered at the sight of this
bent old man, hitherto alone and uncared
Tor, now walking laily to his work with
his hand upon the shoulder of the odd
yet pretty faced girl, looking at her with
honest pride frightening his eyes, and
laughing as loud as she whenever the
Joke came in. But old Pail looked un-
concerned, evaded the questions Of the
curious, and learned to love nothing in
this world better than the little waif.
Camilla.
There were many, many days when
rheumatism drew Paul up by the fire in
the old back attic, and drew the very last
penny out of the dilapidated purse; but
brave little Camilla, never forgetting how
near death she had been on that bitter
night Of their meeting, always found a
word to ward off hunger, and courage to
keep them both bright until help came
The winter Of 1856 come in like lion,
many a poor wretch well remembers,
and with the blast come Paul's enemy.
He turned, one night, sad face from
his warm corner in Bertman's shop among
the violins, and hobbled up the cold
street, feeling the approach of the old
rheumatic pains, and wondering what
would become of his poor little Camilla.
His excitement carried him up to the
last flight Of stairs, and, hearing Camillas
voice, be paused to rest and to listen.
She was singing in that sweet and OK
pressive manner that made her voice
seemed to him the sweetest and and purest
he had ever heard. At the end of another
stauzar he took breath, and another voice
said:
Child, you astonish me. Either I
am poor judge of music, or else your
voice is the finest ever heard. You are
right Ill preterring its cultivation to any,
thing else
An electrict thrill shot through old
Paul's frame, and quickened his blood
to rapidity that quite carried away his
rheumatic pains, and ia twinkling he
was up stairs and in his little attic.
He was terrified at the the sound of a
voice; but the sight Of handsome and
polished gentleman, with diamonds in
his snowy linen, a heavy ring upon his
dainty white hand, unquestionable
broadcloth upon his back, in close con-
versation with Camilla, whose wondrous
beauty had of late startled even his dull
perception, was more than Paul could
bear
He was very small man-had been in
his you.n-and now that Times wither-
ing tingeis i", touched him, he was
shriveled and dried. like withered fruit,
but in MS virtuous indignation he pulled
out to its fullest extent, and in falsetto
voice piped,Y Camilla, how dare you iu-
vlte anyone to come here?'
ooh, Uncle PAUL." This is Mr.. Claver-
ing the gentleman whose-whose-
:Whose mother she saved from death.
Your niece, sir, a few days since was
passing through our crowded thorough
fare, when my mothers carriage drew up
to the pavement. The horses were FESTIVE,
and bidding the driver attend to them,
she began to descend unassisted. Her
foot was on the step, when the animals
sprang forward and flung her violently
from her foothold. But for the sudden
act of your niece, who received my moth
er in her strong, young arms, the fall
might have proved fatal one. I came
to day at my mothers earnest request,
to express heartfelt gratitude, and to
offer"
"You needn't offer Camilla penny, sir.
She'll nava1 c,,f flor xubilo Two MOI, sc