Smyrna times., 1879-02-19

little satchel of books and her roll of
music. asked her landlady who she was.
It's Miss Leigh, sir" said the woman.
" a daily governess, and one Of the sweet.
est seif,denying young ladies as ever gave
up her life for the benefit of Others"
Humph?' said the rich gentleman.
There are not many such in the world"
" No. sir indeed there's not" said Mrs.
Moore.
How the rich gentleman on the first
floor became acquainted with the daily
governess-how the children began to run
III and out of his room, and ask him to tell
them marvellous stories of America, whence
he came-and how at last pretty Honora
went back to America with him as his wife,
would make too long a recital in detail
Suffice it is to say that such was the fact.
{" God bless the little ones," Mr.. Bonfeld
said; "there's room and to spare for them
in my home. And, to my thinking, there
is no sweeter sound about a house than
children's voices"
And if anything could have made Ho-
nora love her husband more dearly than
she had done before, it would have been
these words of his.
And the years went by, and the little
children grew up into health and beauty,
and Honora, in her satins, had almost for
gotten the sore straits of her early girl
hood, when one day the past was recalled
to her 10y a most unexpected accident.
If you please, Mrs. Bonfeld,' said the
cook one day, an honest, warm-hearted
Milesian, " Tim says there's poor family
sittlin' down in the old cottage by the
gates as is most starvin'. Sure says to
Tim, why don't you tell the misses? Says
he; What for wud be botherin' her, and
they nothin' to herr Says ]? ? The hand
Of her never was closed against the sick
an the poor, an I'll tell her, Tim,' says l.
if you don't"
You are quite right, Nary" said Mrs
Bontield. | will go this evening and in
| quire into the case"
And with Charley carrying a basket in
which was piled goodly supply of jelly
wine, home,bread and hothouse grapes
! Honora walked to the ruined cottage al
dusk.
Alas! for the squalIor and poverty of the
wretched place. candle burning on the
hearth, Il gaunt form outstretched on
heap of straw, with fever glowing cheeks
and eyes rolling restlessly in their sunkeI
sockets, while by the door sat fade(
woman, rocking a child to and fro in he
lap.
Il hope we're not intruding, ma'am,
said she, with something Of lady's cour
tesy and accent; "but my husband coul,
90 no farther. We are on our way t
Omaha, where he thought he could ge
employment"
"You are quite welcome to stay here,
said Mrs. Bonfeld, gently; "and l wi
send you some things from the house t
make you more comfortable. Your hui
bands name is =
BLACK, ma'am, Bolton Black. View
had bad luck, and we thought perhaps b
might do better here" sighed the woman
" But heartily wish we had stayed in EN-
land"
Honora Bonfeld's heart beat violentl
as she advanced pace or two toward tn
wretched heap of straw were the yello
flicker Of the candle-light family illumine
face which she would scarcely have r
| cognized-the face of Bolton Rlack.
He died the next night, and never kne
that the compassionate eyes Of his o.
sweetheart had rested ptingly on him
Y these last hours.
And the simple headstone that W
reared over his remains in the cemete
!, was placed there through Honora Bo
fields charity World.