Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1879-01-01
THE UNEXPECTED RETURN.

involuntarily, by girl ten or twelve
years old, who stood opposite a
fruit stand. The low, plaintive, yet
earnest manner in which they were
uttered, attracted my attention. !
stopped, and looking round saw the
little girl, who stood looking visit
fully at the fruit. Her face was
thin and pale, and had look Of so
much care and sorrow as to blot
out all the sunshine which ought
always to illumine the face of child
hood.
"And if you had two cents, what
would you do with them, my little
girl" l inquired.
81 would buy one of those large,
red apples for my sister," she re-
piled.
"And wouldn't you take one for
yourself, too?" / asked.
"Oh, yes, indeed" and the bare
thought of such a luxury for her
self, thus brought home to her i'm
agiDation, frightened with tran
silent beam of gladness her large,
mountaineering eyes. "But then,"
she added, "Annie is sick, and has
been wishing for an apple so much.
! can do without"
Selecting six of the largest and
fairest apples, and several heavy
punches of grapes, which looked
the more delicious from having
been so carefully handled that their
azure bloom had remained undis-
turbed, / paid the price demanded.
] shall never forget her look of joy
full surprise, when telling her to
hold her apron as a receptacle-al-
most too scanty for the required
purpose placed in the fruit.
Gam l to have all theseF" she
said.
ayes, ALL"
"Thank you"
There was but little in those two
commonplace words Of courtesy,
but in her manner Of speaking them
there was more than would be easy
to tell. There was deep-felt graf
itude, / knew. / knew, also, that
chords of feeling had been touched
by this simple act of kindness,
which, for single instant, thrilled
to notes Of glad music, only to min
gle and lose themselves in the secret
and wailing cry of the heart, caus-
ed by some present sorrow. She
turned to go.
will you not tell me your name"
said I.
"Catharine Williams"
Williams being my own name,
though it is very common one, for
certain reasons the coincidence in
.erested me.
swell, Catharine," said /, "now
hat you have told me your name,
4 You will tell me where you live,
| should like to call and see you to-
morrow"
She told me the name of the street
she lived in, and, as the first part
Of the way was in the direction of
my own home, ! continued to walk
by her side.
any sister," she said, after a mo-
ment's silence, "does not live at the
same place / do" She seemed to
the look of inquiry
which this information elected
"Mrs. Bray" she resumed, "tbat
Annie is with, is poor woman, and
can't afford to keep only one Of us
with her. Annie is older than /
Am, and when she is well, earns her
own living by helping Mrs. Bray
sew" rtu
Haven't you motherl~
"No; she died long time ago
almost as long ago as / can remem-
ber.'
"And your father r.
HE was lost at sea more than a
rear ago. Annie gave such cry,
Ind turned so white when she heard
he news Of the shipwreck. And |
hen, when night came we couldn't
20 to sleep, we felt SO badly when
70 thought we should never see ,
i'm again"
"You and your sister lived to-
ether at the time your father went .
} sea
eyes he left money with Mrs.
ray, who was to take care Of us I,
4 be returned. Oh, IL he bad on ,
>>o~>> hsck-be Ioved ma so much-