The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1879-12-03
ADELINA.


disconsolstely wended my way to school
wishing that holidays came oftener and
staid longer, and regretting that out of
the tifty-two there was only one week Of
uninterrupted pleasure.
The old red school house stood at the
junction of three roads, and, as I raised
the little hill just before reaching it, l
saw, coming from the opposite direction,
little black-clad figure that looked like
a moving blot on the unbroken white
ness of the snow covered landscape.
Inever could tell what actuated me to
linger on her movements as l did, Lor
why she so strongly attracted me, but
from the first I think must have loved
the child, evln before I was old enough
to rightly understand the meaning of
the word.
We reached the worn old door-stone
together. and, being boy not at all
afraid to speak to any one, much less q
timid little girl. l very coolly asked her
if this was her first day at school.
eyes; and dread it so much"
It was the sweetest voice I had ever
heard, or have ever heard since. The
peculiar rising infection On the last
word was like the short, clear low notes
Of a bird, and Us purely natural.
"Do you come every day?"
Haven't missed day this winter"
80. I'm 80 gladm
"Why are you SO giad?"
Because you are Il good boy. Won't
you please tell me your name?"
Edward Durand."
Il like the name" she said, sweetly,
and boy as | was, / wondered how any
mortal ever came by such an angel
smile. All this time she had been try
ing to unite the round worsted strings
Other hood, but had only succeeded in
drawing them into harder knot.
Wont you please unite it for me,
Eddie?"
She held up her little cold chin, and
without moments hesitation bent
down and did as she requested. 1t was
such tender, confiding little face who
could help loving it?-i patted encour-
agingly the ROSY red cheek turned to-
ward me in. gentle truthfulness, and
bade her not to be afraid, for she had as
good right to come to school as any
one.
"Halloo! where did that little black
bird come FROM" cried kind-hearted
Ben Phillips, as we entered. Come
along, little girl, and get warm, for you
look half frozen"
A general tittering and nudging fol-
lowed Ben's energetic seating of the new
scholar, and one saucy mink, not under
standing its significance, asked, pertly:
"What are you looking so like crow
for? I hate black dress!"
"Hush!" reproved IN older girl, who
overheard the remark. "Hush, Sue !;
don't you see she is in mourning?"
The voice that had SO charmed me in
the entry answered the question in a
strangely quiet way.
"My father is dead"
A hush as of death fell upon the noisy
group gathered around the old cracked
stove. The unwonted silence was broken
by the entrance of the teacher. who in
mediately raped us to order, after
which lie briskly called up the new
scholar.
"What is your name'"
"Adelina."
Mr.. Pike looked wise.
"Adelina Lagrange, / suppose; and
you are the daughter of the lady who
has recently taken the Baldwin cot
tage2"
"Well, you may take this seat," point
inc to a bench not far from where was
sitting; and without further question
ing Adelina had passed through the try
ing ordeal of a first day" and was duly
counted one of us.
Her mother, it was rumored, was a
lady of refinement and culture, but very
proud and reserved in her demeanor for
person who was obliged to teach music
for living. Mrs. Lagrange, at any
rate, was young, handsome. and re-
Gently widowed-at least the length and
newness of her veil indicatedt to observing
feminine eyes that the bereavement was
recent, and that is all the gossips knew
about her.
The summer term brought Adelina
again to the old red school-house, but
so changed outwardly that we hardly
knew her from the somber" black bird :"
of the previous winter. She f1uttered
in one morning dressed in white, with
sash and shoulder-knoCs of cherry rib
bons-the loveliest creature ever saw.
At no6n she came to me, and said, very
gravely:
more"
"Why?"
II am going to the city to live; but
you were kind to me the first day
came, and I tell you for that reason,
and because you didn't mind untying
my hood for me-"
/ felt her going so keenly that I could
not study, try as I would, and in conse-
quence my grammar lesson was de-
cided failure. went home from school
her way that day, taking care that the
other scholars should not suspect my
motives. When l came in sight of her
she was standing motionless by the
roadside, attentively watching yellow
jacket buzzing for sweets in the downy
heart of white Canada thistle.
Years after, when miles and miles
away from that spot, could shut my
eyes of hazy October afternoon, with
five o'clock sun dipping toward the
tree tops. and see little girl, lovely as
he blush of the sunset, gazing pensively
at a bee upon common roadside
flower.
"Did it sting you" l asked, assum
ing very sympathetic air.
mo; bees never sting me; and w
watched them dance on the thistl,
heads all summer"