The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1880-07-15
NY LITTLE SWEETHEART.

Wnen ufSG knew ner Sne was u1toen
years old; 1 was twenty-four. She was
a schoolmaster' daughter; I school
masters son. We first met one Sep
struggling pedagogue, with q family of
seven children to support, and few
pupils. 1 had it in my head to become
his partner, and went down first to see
how things were looking. arrived.
after lengthy journey; and the first
thing I saw when ushered into the
room was a little girl seated in an old
armchair, with big book upon her
knees. She shook hands with me; and
as she did so 1 noticed her eyes were
blue, her hair was a golden brown, es-
Gaping from its bonds in rippling wave-
lets; and that she had q curiously-win-
ming smile, smiling not only with her
lips, but with her ewes and face and all.
Later on, was struck by the way her
little head was poised upon her shoul-
ders. She was upright as dart; and
when she moved, It was with an infinite
grace, as some tiny Queen -
Her name was Emily; to her friends
she was always EN-.
She and I struck a friendship. She
always did make friends with all male
creatures, whether five years old or
fifty. was scribbler even then; and
/ fancy the pride of authorship, even in
50 small degree, had certain charm
for her which set me up in her eyes.
She wrote her name in my birthday
book; and beneath it / wrote, "My
Little Sweetheart" 1t lies before me
at this moment.
She would fly through her work like
q bird finging unwelcome showers from
its wing. She could not see that life
was real. 2ta
Yet had she good cause to see that it
was so. 1t was the hardest struggle in
to bring two ends together. Very lit
tie money was ever hers. Her ward
robe was of the scantiest. She knew
nothing of pleasure, as some people
understand it; she had never been ten
miles out Of the town where she was
born. Yet there must have been some
fairy present at her birth, for she was
like . summers day, always bright.
Not,fhat she could not be grave. That
was one of her rarest charms gift
of sympathy. Only let some one whom
she knew and cared for be in sorrow,
and .Em would not be far AWAY Dark
indeed would be that sorrow which did
did not change to light when her sun
was shining. Her voice, her eyes, her
arms, all Joined to drive the shadows
away, and soothe the sufferer with the
presence of her love.
Time sped. had now known her
more than two years. was going on
rambling expedition to foreign parts,
and though 1 knew 7 was q fool for
my pains, to me it was q bitter part
ing. And SO for the time, think it
was to her; for, in some way. links had
been joined between us without our ever
knowing they were being forged.
Well" said / to her. the day before
| went, we being alone together, blue
Eyes, how long shall be missed?"
The only answer was to throw herself
upon the hearth-rug, place her hands
p upon my knees, and turn her eyes up
toward my face.
..Ah, Blue Eyes," said i, trifiing with
her sunny. hair. you'll have another
sweetheart in week. Ga
I'm q week?" said she, in that curl
ously clear voice of hers. "Do you
think so?" She looked up and watched
me for q moment. Then she turned
and got upon her knees, kneeling in
front of me. "rerhaps so," she said.
: =. But''-leaning forward. SO that her
breath mingled with mine-"he'n nev-
er be q sweetheart like you"
What could do? i knew her SO
well! Iknew that this was Just what
she would say to any one by way of
comfort. knew that her words were
as tribes. light as air. ~
make no vows said i, ''.only to
be broken. You and have had happy
times; why should begrudge the same
to anotherr'
She was silent; she was now nearly
eighteen; but she was SO small, that it
never occurred to me to think of her as
anything but little girl. She put her
hands out and took mine, still in the
same quiet fashion. "would you like