The Osceola times., 1880-05-29

TO her little four-story room, TO watch
and wait, and wonder if everybody
would find her too young She was not
TO blame for it, anyhow, she said to her.
self, trying TO coax laugh.
No one else came that day, but the
next morning there was an early call
for "the lady who advertised" Martie
was glad she had on the gray dress; per-
haps she looked older in it. But gray
or black was all the same she was again
weighed in the balace and found want
ing-not in years this time, but in Ger
man; and AS one weary hour after
another went by, and no other appli-
cants appeared, Martie grew heavy
| hearted. Her advertisement was to
appear for three days. Two had already
passed, resulting only in disappointment,
Mrs. Allen tried to encourage her, but
when night came, ard the six o'clock
dinner, Martie felt sad and homesick.
al hope no one has made arrange
ments To carry you of just yetP Mr..
Raymond said, as he took a seat beside
her at their end Of the long table.
"No," said Martie. "No one wants
me. Pm too young, and / don't know
German" And big round tear rolled
over into her teacup.
| There's no cause for discouragement
in that, / assure you" said Mr.. Ray
mond. 81 know people who would not
| find fault with you on either score"
Then he went on talking to her in such
pleasant way that she soon became in
terested, forgot her troubles and the
tears in her teacup, and was as merry as
| though she had been older and had
known German.
Mr.. Raymond stayed down stairs until
10 o'clock, read aloud an old-time fire.
side story, and kept the ball of conver-
sation rolling in such pleasant channels
that the evening was gone before Martie
knew it, and in spite of all her disap-
pointment it had somehow been the
pleasanlest one she had spent there.
The next morning lady came to see
Martie in behalf of her mother-in-law,
and Martie engaged to go on the follow
ing day to see the place and people.
There was no poetry about Mrs. My
rick. She was pure, unadulterated
wanted her girls to have a good, strong
education-no jimcracks, no furrin Ian
guage to jabber in. She was willing to
pay good wages-would give a governess
f20 year and her board; but she
/
didn't keep any servants-didnt need
any, pity 'twould be if two hearty girls
| like hers couldn't do their own work.
Poor Martie. She would not say no at
once, because this was, thus far, her
only chance; 80 she promised to give an
answer soon, and went back to her room
praying heaven to send her something
better.
She thought her prayer was answered
when gentleman called that evening,
talked with her about his three little
girls, and seemed well satisfied with the
modest account she gave of herself. lie
was very particular about music, how
ever, and would be very glad to hear
I Miss Woodbridge play. Their interview
had taken place in the kindly shelter of
the quiet little reception room; but the
piano was in the big parlor, and in their
the professor and the Rev. Paul Apollos
were discussing earth and heaven. The
Colonel was stalking about, showing off
his martial figure; the young bride, by
the side of her new lord, was holding
court in the midst of lively circle Of
callers.
Shy, bashful Martie! how could she
play before all these people? Poor, timid
little wren, that had just crept from un-
der the mother-wing and flown out of
her nest Could she show what sweet
music she knew how to make with a
crowd of listeners?
There were none of the airs and graces
of the music-pounding young woman
about Martie, as she dropped down upon
the piano stool and took n moments
grace before entering upon the dreadful
ordeal. Twas no use waiting, but oh,
if the gentleman would but sit down!
Why will he stand beside her and watch
her poor frightened fingers, as they trip
and stumble, give wild jump for dis
tant note miss it, make a dive for one
octave and light on another, and at last
lose their way altogether and go on chas-
ing their way up and down the key
board. Martie knows the piece she is
trying to play as well as she knows her
name, but it all flies out of her head and
slips away from her fingers, and she ends
at last with finale of her own lmpro-
vising, feeling her hair stand up straight
on her head us she does it.
The gentleman was much obliged" +"
left almost Immediately, and Martie, in
a state of grief and modification, was
rushing through the hall, exclaiming.
with sob, as she covered her face with
her hands, "What shall | do?" when she
was suddenly stopped at the foot of the
stairs by Mr.. Raymond.
"My dear child" said he, don't take
it so to heart. Pve heard you play that
piece before, and thought how well you
did it; but of course you couldn't play
with all those people staring and listen
ing. The man was brute to ask you to
do it,"
ooh, no; it's who am such q simple.
ton" said Martie, but you are very
good to me-" and she hurried up stairs.
longing to get where nobody could see
her, but feeling comfbrted little, even
then, by the tender sympathy which
had done its best to console her.
Once in her room the floodgates were
opened, and Marte cried over what she
called her disgraceful failure, until she
had succeeded in getting up raging
headache. Then she went to bed with
the determination of writing in the
morning TO Mrs. Myrick, informing that
lady that she was ready to accept her
offer and enter upon the dedication" Of
her daughters. But before she had time
to carry her resolution INTO effect Mrs.
Myrick herself appeared, having made
up her mind that Marte would not do
for them. She hadn't been brought in
their ways, and was like to be too per-
tickler.
Thus vanished all hopes of success from
advertising. Mrs. Allen next advised
that Martie should try one of the educa.
tional agencies in this city, and an ap-
plication was accordingly made. Then
followed more days of anxious waiting