The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1879-04-16

1Ou see, ike 1J-my IlJtle SnOp.
There's something so delightful in seeing
the pretty girls of the village, with now
and then fine lady, hanging over my
scarlet and blue and orange with many
a laugh and many glance in the mirror.
| call it my reception when they pour in
of n holiday afternoon. ] love colors; l
love grace and beauty; and perhaps 1
might have been a bit of an artist, in my
way, if I'd ever had the opportunity.
Richard used to say so. But ah he said
many flattering thing and many false
In these old days. And if ever dreamed
of any higher life than contents me now
well, I've given up dreaming.
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 heap on my
doorstep when | went to open the shut
ters. Wherever she came from never
knew. Toddles never explained; she
just stretched up her little fat arms to
me 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 ex-
cellent neighborly advice about putting
the treasure in the foundling hospital.
But one seldom takes good advice, and l
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 that Richard and | should ever
meet again in this world. And that
that is among the things that can never
happen.
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 some
thing of him. She always expected to
get her moneys worth out of her transac-
somehow, though she was n little wiZen-
ed old woman that he could have lifted
with his left hand. But l liked him for
respecting his mother.
One day we two were sitting at twi-
light talking of the future dreamily, as
was our wont.
MY little one, said Richard, putting
his arm about me, it half seems too
bright to ever be-"
"Euer ber' l echoed. "Oh, Richard.
if you talk that way, it will never be-
Richard smiled, but his face grew
overcast. l felt that storm was COM
ing.
"WellP" I queried, seeing that he sat
brooding and silent.
Darling" he said, soothingly, 81
l-,,o ha 20
how can | go against my motherp Her
poor old heart is bound up in me, Jean
nette, and she will never hear toto any
thing that
That seems to lower you," / added,
in steely voice that seemed to cut its
way out of my heart like a keen, cold
knife.
"Oh, am coward-a poltroonr'
cried Richard, wringing his hands. 81
was born to bring trouble on those |
love. Who, who shall | leave to suffer
for me now, Jeannette?"
"The one who will say least about it,n
answered, hardly. Ny heart was
throbbing heavily, like clock that ticks
the hour of execution; but / made no
outcry, and we parted in that final part
ing silently. And | have lived silently
ever since.
One year after that l heard that Rich
ards mother was dead, and then that he
had married: who, l knew nOt-who,
cared not. He 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 vowed to
love and cherish met =
But | did not seem to feel this blow a
i had felt our parting. | just flung him
out of my heart there and then, and my
love and my silence vanished. / looked
into the face of my misery with smile,
and took this little shop in the village,
and worked early and late, and made it'll
thrive. Then, two years later, came my
little Toddles to me, sitting like lily on
my doorstep, as if some angel of peace
had dropped her there. have named
her Theresa, but Toddles has always been
her own pet namr for herself, and l like
it because it is hers.
The child has brought me peace. And
/ feel no vengeance against any one now
Nor do | rejoice that Richards wife is
said to have turned out i'll, and spent the
wealth she brought him.
But had forgotten the shop in all this
reverie and reminiscence.
There was a sharp twang of the little
bell, and l heard heavy step in the
doorway. l set down my coffee-cup
hastily, and hurried in to confront a
great muscular fellow with a big beard
and slouched hat, Whose presence SEEM |
ed fairly to wipe out the little shop.
This was a rather different type from
my usual customers, and l was a little
shy Of him. He hesitated, and seemed
when l spoke to him-men
never do get used to shopping-and it
was some time before l quite made out
what he wanted. 1t was some sort of |
woolen goods-a scarf or a kerchief, l
think. These were not very salable stock
just now, and | had put the box contain
ing them out of sight somewhere. While !
l rummaged about, the stranger stood in
the doorway, watching me in a way / !
something, He looked needy enough, |
and shabby enough