The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1879-05-06
1'OddleS..


T'oddles.
l felt like lady that morning. I was
lady, thought, after all; quite as much 80
rs Mrs. Jones, who lived in the great cupola
house on the hill. Quite as much of lady
l 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 globe Of goldfish in it that
sailed about as courteously 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 I
hummed tune as glanced cheeriy out at
little l'oddles fitting about in her scarlet
ribbons under the old willow outside. Bless
her little rosy face why shouldn't be
happy when I've her to look after2
was happy, and l hummed again that
old snatch of tune, and nodded gayly to
Toddles, wondering vaguely to myself what
was going to happen that l felt so uncannily
bright. Nothing simply nothing; things
were done happening mo long since. My
way was straight and narrow, my days
quiet and uncvontful.
AS l slipped my coffee that morning re-
member that held the cup up to the light,
and felt a certain sense of satisfaction in the
translucence Of the rare bit of china, 1t is
SO pleasant to know that ones own election
may keep ono aloof from from the uglincss
and squalor of poverty.
1t doesn't take much to keep one person,
of course, and l don't count Toddlcs for
anything. 1t needs but tho odds and ends
Of things-a bowl of bread and milk; cup
nf pnffnp 1yith oDH thory q 1iualx, h;f IF
ribbon-to keep the little one going famous
ly.
Yes, l always wanted to be lady. And
as I sat in my bright little room half felt
inclined to forgive Richard Gray, the heart
break he gave me long ago. But if he had
married me. perhaps he would have shut
nc up in some gloomy city house, to be a
lady after his fashion, to stifle for want of a
bit Of fresh air, to walk softly under thou
sand pretty conventionalities, and to cease
being my own mistress. All that I never
could endure. 30 it is, perhaps, as we'll
that Richard left mo and went off some
where-God knows where.
You see, I like tiny little shop. There's
something so delightful in seeing the pretty
girls of the village, with now and then a
fine lady, hanging over my dainty wares,
and trying the tints of scarlet and blue and
orange with many a laugh and many a
glance in the mirror. call it my recep-
noon. I love colors; I love grace and
beauty; and perhaps might have been a
bit of an artist, in my way, if I'd ever have
had the opportunity. Richard used to say
so. But ahl he said many fattering
thing and many a false one in those
old days. And if ever dreamed of any
higherlife than contents me now-well, I've
given up dreaming.
For there's Toddles, 80 round and sweet
and soft and real. She leaves melittle time
for building air-castles.
You see, l love the child as if were che
my very own. For she came ONE one day,
about four years ago, a wee little baby
thing; curled up In heap on my door step
when went to open the shutters. Wher-
ever she came from I never knew. Tod
dies never explained; she just stretched up
her little fat arms to me and glrglcd ''Tod-
dle-doddle," and that was here sole intro
duction
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 tho treasure in
the founding hospital. But one seldom
takes good advice, and didn't.
To tell the truth, grow 80 attached to
the child that should even have been wick
ed enough, fear to regret any ones turning
up to claim it. But that's not at all likely
now, after 30 many years--no, not at all
likely no moro likely than that Richard
and should ever meet again in this world.
And that--that Is among the things that
never, can happen.
It was on this wise, our parting.
Richards mother was old and feeble and
miscrly. She'd spent good deal of money
on hinl--sent him to college, and expected,
folks said, to "make something. of him. y
She always expected to get her money g
worth out of her attractions Richard held
her In sort Of awe, somehow, though she
was q little wizened old woman that be
could have lifted with his left hand. But
liked him forrespecting his mother.
Ono day we two were sitting at twilight
ticking Of the future dreamily. as was our
won't. FfN
my little one," said Richard, putting
his arm about me, 'it half seems too bright
to ever be.
''Eue,, be I" I echoed. ooh, Richard,
If you talk that way 1t will never be-"
Richard smiled, but his face grew over.
cast. felt that a storm was coming.
"Well7" queried, seeing that he sal
brooding and silent. Is
Darling, he said, soothingly, sT knew
1t would como hardly to you; but how car
60 against my, mother. Her poor old
heart is bound up to me, Jeanette, and she
will never hear to-to anything that"
"That seems to lower you, added, ir
stecly voice, that seemed to cut It's way
out Of my heart like keen cold knife.
"Oh, am a cOward---a poltroon," criet
Richard, wringing bis hands, "I was borr