Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1880-04-17

But all that was past and gone. Poor
papa was in his grave, hundreds of
miles away; and the pretty home, with
all its luxuries and attractions, had
passed into other hands. How the
change came about, matters little, for
this life is full of changes; but that an-
tumn day, when Lutte and l went out
to gather pine-cones, We had only the
latticed window shut in from the road
by its rude stone wall, and what our
hands could earn; and poor mamma
was helpless invalid. h7.. ~ .....-.
We had not lived in the cottage q
great while. Immediately after papa's
death, we had moved to pretty, rural
town; and mamma and had rooms in
the dwelling of a widow lady, while
Lutte sought situation as goyerness.
But, alas, there were more governesses
than situations, and finally, Lutte, who
had always had great taste in dress, was
employed by the fashionable milliner of
the place. 1t was descent, so to
speak; "but we must Gve,'' said Lutte,
bravely. Her wages kept mamma and
me quite comfortably, and with what
little l could do in the way of sewing,
we were getting on SO nicely, when a
sudden and mysterious trouble fell up
on us. IL
One day, Lutte came home, in a
drenching rain, with a bonnet that she
had been sent out with, but had not
delivered. She had face like a ghost.
was sure she was ill-dying, perhaps
she looked so ghastly.
! flew to her side.
Hush, hush,'' she whispered, in .
stifled voice, putting her hand to her
heart. "if you love me, Bess, don't ask
me question; and on your life don't
give mamma a hint of this. shall be
myself again in very little while, if
you'll leave me. Go out and make the
tea, dear"
/ always obeyed Lutte. While I was
making the tea, boy came with let
ter. 1t was for Lutte, and l took it in
to her. Her soft eyes seemed to blaze
as she looked at the address.
stake it back, Bess," she said, with
the voice and air of a queen, Sand tell
the bearer never to bring another"
Then she went up to her room.
/ did as / was hidden. An hour later,
Lutte came down, with her old face and
smile. 'nt
"Bess," she said, and put her arms
round me, and kissed me, "you've al
ways been good sister to me +; be better
than good now: never speak to me of
is-this-trouble, Bess.''
81 never will, Lutte" said.
The very next day, we left the town,
and found refuge in the brown cottage,
a days journey by rail away. Here we
made our home. Mamma fretted little,
but she had such confidence in Lutie's
wisdom, that she let her have her way.
And Lutte never once alluded to her
trouble, nor did dare to press for her
confidence.
s'It's so lucky we've the baskets and
frames TO make, Bess," said Lutte, as
we sat down under the pine-ridge, to
rest, and shell off the pretty, brown
cones, "we're sadly in need of little
money. Nobody, hardly, seems to want
a new bonnet, this fall, or even to have
an old one trimmed; the times are too
hard, they say. We can't sell the brown
pullet's brood, we must keep them for
mamma; and the eggs count up dread
fully slow; and mamma must have a
warm double-wrapper, and the money
we get for these viii just do"
She Kept her pretty, slim fingers busy,
while she talked, Smelling off the cones.
The afternoon sunshine, falling on her
uncovered head, made its waving brown
hair CLEAN like gold. Lutte was
so pretty, so gentle, SO lady-like!
Yet the shadow of that old, mysteri-
Gus trouble still saddened her soft eyes.
I often wondered what the trouble could
have been, feo
" I think we can crowd in at least
two more baskets, Bess," she went on;
/" and I'll tell you what intend to do.
shall cut up that spotted shawl of