River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1879-05-08
TOODLES.


-Biaci7coocTs Naqayjac.
TOODLES.
felt like lady that morning. was
a lady, thought after all; quite as much
so as Mrs. Jones, who lived in the great
cupols house on the hill. Quite as much
of lady, said to myself, briskly, as ]
busted up my little shop, and arranged
the sheeny ribbons and striped goods in
the window. The window was hung with
pretty lace curtains, and there was
globe of gold fish in it that sailed about
as courteouslv and busily as though they
were getting their living as head clerks
1t was sweet soft autumn morning,
the village street was grassy and quiet
and hummed tune as glanced cheer
ily out at little Toddles, fitting about in
her scarlet ribbons under the old willow
outside Bless her little rosy face! why
shouldn't be happy when have her to
look after2
| was happy, and hummed again that
old snatch of tune, and nodded gayly
to Toddles, wondering vaguely TO myself
what was going to happen that | felt so
uncannilY bright. Nothing simply
nothing: things were done happening to
me long since. My way was straight
and narrow, my days quiet and unevent-
full.
As slipped my coffee that morning
remembered that | held the cup up to
the hight, and l felt certain sense of
satisfaction i'll the transluceDce of the
rare bit of china. 1t is so pleasant TO
know that ones own election may keep
one aloof from the ugliness and squalor
OF poverty.
it doesn't take much TO keep one per-
son, OF course, and don't count Toddles
for anything. 1t needs but the odds aud
ends Of things-a bowl of bread and
milk, cup OF coffee, with now and then
lively bit of ribbon--to keep the little
one going famously.
Yes, | always wanted to be lady.
And as I sat in nv bright little room
half felt inclined to forgive Richard
Gray for the heart break he gave me long
ago. And, Oh God it aods heart-break.
But il he had married me, perhaps he
would have shut me up in some gloomy
city house, to be lady after his fashion,
to slife for want of bit of fresh air, to
walk softly under a thousand petty con-
ventionalities, and to cease being nv own
mistress. All! that never could endure.
So ii is, perhaps, as well that Richard
left me and went off somewhvre-God
knows where.
You see, like Tiny little shop
There's something so delightful in seeing
the pretty girls of the village, with now
and then fine lady, hanging over my
dainty wares and trying the tints of scar
let and blue and orange with many
laugh and many glance in the mirror.
call it my reception when they pour in
of holiday afternoon. | love colors; /
love grace and beauty; and perhaps |
might have been bit of an artist, in my
way, il I'd ever had an opportunity.
Richard used to say so. But ali he said
many fattering thing and many q
false thing in those old days And if ever
dreamed of any higher life than contents
me now-well, I've given up dreaming.
For there's Toddles, so round and sweet
and soft and real She leaves Bie little
time for building sir castles.
You see, I love the child as if she were
my own. For she caTe to me one day
about tours years ago a wee little baby
thing. curled up in a heap on my door
step when went to open the shutters.
Wherever she came from never knew.
never explaine / she just stretch
ed up her little fat arms to me and gurg
led Tod cd doodle" and that was her
sole introduction.
1t was suImised that the child had
betn droRped py some travelling circus
passing through the town, and had ex-
cellent neighborly advice about putting
the treasure in the founding hospital.
But one seldom takes good advice, and
didn't.
To tell the truth. / grew So attached
10 the child that l shocld even have been
wicked enough, fear, to regret any ones
turning up to claim it. But that's not
at all likely; no more likely now, after so
many years no, not at all likely; no |
more likely than that Richard and |
should ever meet again in this world. |
And that that is among the things that
can never happen.
It was on this wise our parting:
Richards mother was cid and feeble |
and miserely. She'd spent good deal
IF money on him-sent him to college, |
and expected, folks said, to make some |
hing of him. She always expected to /
get her moneys worth out of her tran |
factions. Richard held her in a sort Of /
awe somehow, though she was little |
wizened old woman that he could have |
lifted with his left hand. But liked /
aim for respecting his mother.
One day we two were sitting nj twi-
ight talking of the future dreamily, as
Vas our wont.
MY little ole, said Richard, putting
lis arms about me; sit half seemed too
,richt 70 ever be-
Ever be- l echoed. "Oh, Richard,
I you talk that way it will never be-
Richard smiled, but his face grew over
east. felt that a storm vas coming.
"WelR" queried, seeing that nc sat
)roodiDg and silent.
'.Darling' he said. soathingly, Il knew
I would como hardly to you, but how can
20 against my mothers Her poor old
leart Is bound up in me. Jeanette, and
he wiil~Dever hear too anything
hat
~T'hat seems TO lover you | added,
4 steely voice that seemed to cut jig
say out Of my heart like q keen, cold
Inife Il
20, am coward poluo0n !. cried
Richard, wrlnging his hands. II was
,orn to bring trouble on those love.
Who. who shall leave to suffer for me
low. Jeannette2n
zine one who will say least about it,"
answered, hardly. by heart was throb-
ing hesviiy, like the clock that ticks the
lour of execution; but 1 made no outcry,
nd we parted IL that final parting 81
entity. Aud hav' lived silently ever
ince.
One year after that heard that Rich
rd's mother was dead, and then thaf be
sd married: who, knew not-who, !
AIRED not. He had married another
v0nan while my last words were jet
laying In his ears right there, bespfe L