Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1880-06-24

nap, the flies droned in the sunshine
and in the quiet noon hush he would
| have turned away without discovering
us, but that a low girlish giggle, oi
which / instantly felt ashamed, revealed
our retreat.
He looked up, laughing. "Oh, there
you are, safe enough; but where is my
small boy?"
Here, too, / said, in a very low
tone, and he vaulted upon the hay, and
saw the pretty sleeping boy; and his
face softened into the mingled sadness
and brightness which / often noticed
upon it as he looked at her child.
81 met Miss Scudamore Just now
with horrible tale of danger and mis-.
behavior. 1t is all right, / see. But
what does possess the child to behave SC
badly to herP He is perfect lamb with
YOU"
"He has it by inheritance, l said,
with smile that ended in a sigh. "He
never looks SO like his mother as when
the irresistible naughtiness comes over
him, which Aunt Urania has the unfor-
tunate talent for evoking."
The same smile was reflected in his
face, the same sigh in his voice.
"True,n he said, "you see, as do,
the wonderful likeness in everything"
Why do you never talk to him OF
Susie P" said, with &C desperate plunge
into the difficult subject, for had never
before mentioned her name to him since
the baby was left motherless. 60 1t is
not right, Harry, to let him grow up in
ignorance of that sweetest of creatures.
He Is, as you say, her living image; he
ought to know and love her, yet he
hardly knew what the word mother
meant until he came here to me"
s.I could not, / could not" he an
swered, much moved. am glad you
do. / knew you would do him good
this summer. ( cannot tell you the
comfort it is to me to have him in the
country, and with you. | knew you
must love the little fellow, for you loved
his mother we'll"
Loved her, yes." I said, my tears
suddenly bursting forth. g | can't get
used to doing without her, Harry; /
can't get over it,
II see," he said. "We are fellow
mourners, Nora
The little head stirred; one or two of
my tears had fallen on the sweet baby
face and wakened him. He sat up and
rubbed his eyes, amazed.
"What funny place! what long cob
webs!n he said. "Oh. l remember
now, the COW. Is she all right again
Why, papa. where did you come from?p
: s. came from the city, Bardie. When
I reached there this morning found
the man | wanted TO see was i'll, and
wouldn't come to town for three days,
and so posted back to you"
"That was right" said Bardie. "To
me and Nora.
-" Yes. to you and Nora" said Harry,
with kind smile at me. But. Bardie,
the first person met was Miss Scuda-
more, who told me very sad tale. /
am afraid my little boy was very saucy
and disrespectful.
"Oh, papa, it was too funny to see
her run with her red stockings. I told
her not to come. l told her the COW
might kill her. But Miss Scudamore,
why, she scudded more than ever,n and
he went into fit of mirth at bis first
attempt at pun.
| responded to the sal ly with weak
minded laugh, but his father looked
awful.
mo more of this, sir.'' he said, in
voice of strong displeasure. $ If you
can not behave properly to the ladies in
this house, will send you away with
your nurse, and not let you come here
again. | will not expose them to the
pertness of a naughty little boy"
Bardie covered under the severe
glance, and clung to me. l looked
piteous
"Do not encourage him, EIlinor."
said Harry, in softer tone. 1t is
great misfortune to a motherless child
to grow up among strangers and ser
wants, who spoil him, and then dislike
him because he is spoiled But he
stroked the little penitent head. and
then suggested that hay-rick was not
the coolest place on summer noon,
and that dinner must be nearly ready.
Eyes, papa; but first 1 want to ask
you something. Will you take US, me
and Nora. to drive this afternoon? The
horses aren't haying to-day, and we
want to go so much. Please do"
Harry laughed, and stole glance at
my face which l dare say revealed an
noyance as well as amusement.
mot to-day, Bardie. am going to
take you over to the hotel to play GRO
quet with the little Temples"
!" Will you come, too, Nora?" asked
Bardie.
No, dear; I called there last night"
/ said, and / drew long breath ut the
idea of a quiet afternoon. Bardie safe
and Harry away-away for the long
evening, my heart whispered. Sophy
Temple and tea at the hotel, and a long
evening walk, and who ca tell what
elsep And with jealous pang for
Susie, / thought, " If only l might have
Bardie, wouldn't care"
So, after Aunt Urania had settled her.
self for her afternoon nap, changed my
dress and rested awhile, watching from
nv window until saw Harry and Bar
die walking across the fields; Coralie
followed, and | said to myself: .
thought so; he will be untrammeled! r
and / carried my water color box and
sketching stool out to beautiful spot
at the end of rambling old garden,
where a low stone wall divided the
struggling flower borders from the pas
ture beyond There were shady trees
and soft overgrown clumps of bushes
and underground, so that the retreat,
though not very far from the house, was
entirely secluaed. and it commanded a
lovely little glimpse of wood and river,
with soft blue hills beyond, and in the
foreground the white spire of the vii
lage church shooting up through the
greenery.
Such quiet afternoon to sketch and
paint! No little tormenting fingers to
i Il l. -