The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1879-04-11
lAisccll anruus.
TOddles.

| 2tAl5lCttdIlCul
| TOddles.
| felt like lady that morning. | was q
| lady, thought, after all quite as much so as
Mrs. Jones, who lived in the great cupola
| house on the hill. Quite rs much of q lady
| said to myself briskly, as I busted up my
little shop and arranged the sheeny ribbons
and gay striped goods in the window. The
window was hung with pretty lace curtains
and there was a globe of gold fish in it that
sailed about as courteously and as busily as
though they were getting their living as head
clerks.
| 1t was a sweet soft autumn morning the
village street was grassy and quiet, and
hummcd tune as / glanced cheerly out at
little Toddles, fitting about in her scarlet rib
bons under the old willow outside. Bless her
little rosy face! why shouldn't be happy
| when I've her to look after
was happy and l hummed again that old
snatch of tune and nodded gayly at Toddles,
wondering vaguely what was going to hap
pen that felt SO uncannily bright. Nothing
simply nothing; things were done happen
| ing me long since My way was straight and
narrow, my days quiet and uneventful
As | slipped my coffee that morning re-
membered that held the cup up to the light
and felt certain sense of satisfaction in the
| translucence of the rare bit of china. 1t is SO
pleasant to know that ones own selection
may keep one aloof from the ugliness and
| squalor of poverty.
1t doesn't take much to keep one person,
| of course and | don't count Toddles for any
thing. 1t needs but the odds and the ends of
| things-a bowl of bread and milk, cup of
coffee, with now and then lively bit of rib
| bon-to keep the little one going famously.
Yes, always wanted to be a lady. And as
| sat in my bright little room | half felt in
clined to forgive Richard Gray the heart
break he gave me long ago. And, o God 1t
was q heart-break But if he had married
some gloomy city house, to be a lady after his
fashion, to stifie for want of bit of fresh air,
| to walk softly under thousand petty con-
ventionalities, and to cease being my own
mistress. All! that never could endure So
it is, perhaps, as well that Richard left me and
| went off somewhere-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 try
| ing the tints of scarlet and blue and orange
| with many a laugh and many glance in the
mirror. | call it my reception when they
pour in of holiday afternoon. Hove colors;
| | love grace and beauty and perhaps might
| have been bit of an artist, in my way, if I'd
ever had the opportunity. Richard used to
say SO. But ali he said many tiattering
| thing and many u false in those old days.
And if ever dreamed of any higher life than
contents me now-well, I've given up dream
ing.
For there's Toddles, so round and sweet and
soft and real She leaves me little time for
| building air-castles.
You see, love the child as if she were my
very own. For she came to me one day,
about four years ago. a wee little baby thing,
curled up in a heap on my doorstep when
| went to open the shutters. Wherever she
came from | never knew. Toddles never eX-
| planned; she just stretched up her little fat
| arms and gurgled "Tod-od-doddle," and that
was her sole Introduction.
1t was surmised that the child had been
dropped by some travelling circus passing
through the town. and had excellent neigh
| borly 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 to the
child that | should even have been wicked
enough fear, to regret any ones turning up
| to claim it. But that's not ut all likely now,
| after so many years-no, not at all likely; no
more likely than Richard and should ever
meet again in this world. And that-that
| is among the few things that never can hap
| pen.
| 1t was on this wise, our parting:
Richards mother was old and feeble and
miserly She'd spent good deal of money
on him-sent him to college, and expected,
folks said, to make something of him." She
always expected to get her moneys worth
out of her transactions. Richard held her in
a sort of awe, somehow, though she was u lit
tie wizened old woman that he could have
lifted with his left hand. But | liked him for
respecting his mother
| One day we two were sitting at twilight
talking of the future dreamily, as was our
wont.
my little one" said Richard, putting his
arm about me, lit half seems too bright to
ever be-"
Ever be |" echoed. Oh, Richard if you
talk that way, it will never be-"
Richard smiled, but his face grew overcast
| felt that n storm was coming.
| "Well ?" queried, seeing that he sat brood
ing and silent.
Darling" he said, soothingly, 81 knew it
would come hardly to you; but how can
| go against my mother? Her poor old heart
is bound up in me, Jeanette, and she will
| ncfCl Hcail bO-to any tnihS tnut
"That seems to lower you" | added, in a
steely voice that seemed to cut its way out OF
my heart like a keen cold knife.
"Oh, am a coward-a poltroon" cried
Richard, wringing his hands Il was born to
bring trouble on those | love. Who, who
shall leave to suffer for me now, jeanette "
"The one that will say the least about it, "
l answered, hardly. My heart was throbbing
heavily, like clock that ticks the hour Of
execution, but / made no cutlery, and We
parted in that final parting silently. And
have lived silently ever since.
One year after that heard that Richards
mother was dead, and then that he had mar
ried; who, l knew not-who, cared not. HI
had married another woman while my last
words were yet ringing in his ears-right
there, before the face of the living heaven
married another woman and swore to love
and cherish her, as he had often to love ant
cherish me
But did not seem to feel this blow as
had felt our parting. l just flung him out o
my heart there and then, and my love and my
silence vanished. | looked into the face o
my misery with smile, and took this littl'
shop in the village, and worked early and lat,
, and mazda IL thriyp Then two years later