The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1879-08-05
May Queen.

1t was warm sultry day in July, when
every one who can, leaves the over crowded
city and seek shelter among the cool hills,
or at the many watering places, that Har
old st. Clair sought the cool shade and
home enjoyments of a farmhouse. Tired
Of the dusty roads, he crossed meadow af-
ter meadow until he came to little hut
where he saw an old cronc quite alone, sing
ing some old, wildwood song. Thinking
from her costume that she belonged to a
gypsy tribe, and would know the surround
ing country pretty well, he accostcd her
thus:
''Madam, can you direct me to any
quiet house where / might have board and
quietness for few wccks2"
Raising herself she looked at him long and
earnestly, then seating herself, she an
swcred:
'Ycs, yes, years of trouble, sunshine
when gray; yes, you can cross through this
strip of woods, then, turning to your left,
you will come to a house where you can
have all the quiet and home comfort YOU
wish, but you will have years and years of
SORROW"
Thanking her and giving her small coin
he proceeded in the direction pointed out by
her. In little while he emerged from the
woods and took the path on the left Of the
road. A few minutes later he came in sight
OF house covered with ivy. When he ar
rived at the house beautiful sight met his
eyes. There, in the warm bright sun, lean
ing her lovely head Oh large, shaggy dog.
laid little girl of eight or ten summers, her
hand under her cheek and her long golden
hair falling over the dog. A wreath of wild
flowers was twincd through her curls and
touched the ground. The littlo creature
seemed to DO in great trouble, for her checks
showed traces of recent tears, and the hard
dry sobs told him the child knew trouble.
Hc took his pencil and drew rough sketch
of the child, and was about to proceed to
the house when the low growl of the dog
told him it would not be safe. lie dared
not move. The next moment the child
opened her eyes and with Joyous laugh
ran to him, crying:
"Oh, Uncle Willie, you did come back. :"
lie knew then she took him for some one
else and dreaded she would find out the
truth. Tightening her arms around his
neck, she said:.
"Oh, May Queen is 80 lonesome when
you 60 away. Grandma is cross There
is no one for May Queen but Rover"
The dog seeing May 30 contcntcd with
him thought it was all right, and fixed HIM
self in the sun to sleep. Picking up his
satchcl he again started for the house, May
Queen showing him where to 90. He was
about to rap when the door was opened by
al elderly lady, who seeing May Queen so
comfortable in his arms half smiled.
Is this MIR. Raymond's2" he asked.
"Ycs, sir, step into the library" said the
lady.
As hc entered he saw an old gentleman
sitting by the window, who arose and bowed
with the grace of the cavaliers Of old.
"You are Mr.. G. G.. Raymond, I pre-
sume," said Harold.
~ am, SIR" he replied.
wish to procure lodging for few
weeks, and was informed hv an old lady,
whom met short distance away. that
would find place with YOU"
"Yes, sir, you can, but we are very quiet
and have no boardcrs at present but May
Queen, who, see, will be Il good friend to
you," he said.
ooh, SO May Queen is boardcr."
Ono, Sir, she is my granddaughter. Her
father and mother are both dead, and so she
lives with us. Iperceive she calls you Un-
Gle Willie He just left for home this morn
ing, and she mic3cs him very much, so now
I think she will be happy again"
"How pleasant were the weeks that fol-
lowed. I rambled in the woods with none
but May Queen and Rover for my COM
panions. How much had learned to love
the child: surely love begcts love. She
still persisted in calling me Uncle Willie"
1t was dark dreary morning and for the
last two hours Harold has been thinking
about returning to the city, when the
cries of a child made him hasten to the ve-
randa, where he beheld Mrs. Raymond with
both hands full of curls, and May Queen
weeping bitterly.
."Oh, how could you be 80 cruel, Mrs.
Raymond" he said
.'They are too much trouble to take care
Of, she replied.
90, how gladly I would have relieved
you, if,
But with a4 invitation to mind his own
business, Mrs. Raymond gathered up the
curls and scissors and walked into the house
leaving him to comfort May by telling her
she would have hair a great deal nicer when
1t grew out again.
The weeks passed rapidly and 1t was now
time for Harold to return to the city. So
the next morning he made known his inten-
tlon Of leaving in the afternoon train. Mrs.
Raymond was very Indifferent when she
heard 1t, while Mr. Raymond seemed to be
sorry and gave him kind invitation to-
come again the following summer. Then
came May, the parting from her was very
touching. How she clung to him, clasping
her little hands around his neck, the tears
rolling down her checks, as she cried:
80, Uncle Willie, you will como back
again soon. won't have anybody to play
with now but Rover" -
He longed to take her with him but he
could not, 80 he bade her good-by, promis-
ing to come soon again. lat sst.I III
He never imagined how many summers
would pass by before he would meet little
May again. His business led him to Chicago,
where he remained for some years, and then
he had to 60 South. So twelve years had
passed, with oil their changes before he was
again In New York. He was somewhat
changed; he was thirty now, and looked
grave and troubled. ~
~" wonder if May Queen remembers
me, !" he thought. ''I have heard nothing
from Sunny Bower in all these years May
must be grown up by this time" It52i't