The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1880-09-09

LIZ OASN00o VI HA0yyC1s uOA Vcup1c VI WOr-
ship, the one sunny spot in the lives of
her children, the star that shone through
all the darkness of their lives. Uncon-
sclously, its influence was warming
the hard soil that surrounded the inner
and better life Of Mr.. Woodruff.
The first that came to brighten their
home was little Helen, who in her baby
hood possessed vast amount of surplus
energy that manifested itself in pranks
OF sauciness and self-will. Now, thought
her father, was his opportunity. So he
began to break her, not as he would 2
year-old colt, by first cooking it, but by
abrupt and ll-timed commands to do. and
not to do, whatever would thwart her
girlish purposes, by surprising her in her
moments of inspiration and burning her
bits OF verse or drawing, and sending her
at once to some dull, dry task, to fit her,
he would say, for womanhood's stern
duties. Called in spirit, year after year.
she endured such harsh and uncalled-for
treatment And only one sweet in a
vast desert OF bitterness bound her to
her father; he had found time to hear
her Bible lessons, all that he permitted
her to study; they had committed to
memory, and could repeat together,
number of the psalms. And many time
Helen would wonder how one who could
love and appreciate such beautiful songs
could be Indifferent or dead to the bud
ding hopes and aspirations of girlhood.
"Perheps his father taught him as he
tries to teach me-and he was teachable:
he says that 1 am sperverse and obstin-
ate L think am, from his standpoint.
but he shall never subdue and crush me
as my dear mother has been subdued
and crushed. My gifts are God-given,
trample upon, andI shall use them to the
glory of the Great Oliver; if not under
the roof of home then away under the
bending blue somewhere, I shall find a
place that shall be to me sanctum sane
forum" And the young girl looked de-
termined as ioness as she uttered this
declaration OF independence.
CHAPTER II.
DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER: am assistant
teacher in the High School of this place am en-
gagged for year. A maiden sister of Mrs. Car
roll, your old neighbor, is Principal. l am
boarding with her. I have the use of her
piano I take two lessons each week from a
good music teacher, and find time each day to
keep up my drawing. 1 crave your forgive
ness. You will not forget my struggles to enter
the life for which felt myself born: 1 found
made "way for liberty" and you must feel
what the separation cost me, while you are sorry
for, and doubtless blame, your loving daughter,
HELEN.
Thus read the letter that came to the
half-crazed Mrs. Woodruff in one month
after their daughter was among the
missing. "Driven from home, the an
guished mother would have said, had
she not felt that she must comfort, not
accuse, the sorrowing. Never before
had she known the depth of her hus-
bands love for his children. Baf1ed
and broken as his spirit was now, true
to his nature, he could not forgive and,
for all. his days of grief, his sleepless
nights of suffering, he still protested
that his hayward child must be pun
lshed, and accordingly he wrote
HELEN: You can justly claim nothing from
the home you SO foolshly deserted. If you re-
main away it must be in a silence that will not
be broken by your FATHER.
"Cruel! cruel {" sobbed Helen, as
she read and re-read the words that
seemed to freeze her heart and shut her
out Of the world Her childhood had
known nothing but the yellow leaf, but
the sadness of autumn had not rendered
her cold or misanthropic. The opening
bud of love, watered by the dew Of
faith, was trembling to blossom in her
pure young heart. She sought strength
and consolation in prayer for the loved
ones she had deserted. A sad, sweet
picture she made as she sat in that capa-
cious old arm chair by the little parlor
window, in the cozy home Of the school
mistress. She was simply and neatly
clad in an evening dress Of pink muslin,
with a white bow of lace at her throat;
one ring, plain gold band, that encir-
cled the forefnger of her left hand, was
all the jewelry she wore. It was a gift
from her mothers father, who prayed,
as he placed it upon her finger, that if
she inherited any of her mothers talent
she would also inherit, in an equal de-
gree, her fathers will power. Her CLOS
sy brown curls were fastened carelessly
back with spray of white lilac. It was
sunset, but the lingering beams Of light
that kissed her fair young face revealed
the bitter tears she could not keep back
aS SIG uHIOlueu agalu ana reaO ALOUD
her fathers icy words. The wound was
opened afresh, and in her agony she
cried:
sob, my dear mother, why. did you
not say just one little word to me-? It
would have been kind, and kept my
heart from breaking. But, oh T know
my father would not permit you, sweet,
patient mother, dear little sister and
brother, and with all your faults my
dear, dear father, how can I live without
you What, oh what shall do?"
No audible answer came to the strick-
en- young heart, but rest and love and
home awaited her, for Mark Maynard
had seen, heard and recognized his own,
and had silently withdrawn from the
room he had entered unseen, and said to
himself as he walked awav.
"Dear Helen, thou art the fresh,
sweet spring in the desert of my lone
life. I can scarcely believe in special
providences, but surely Gods own hand
has led her to the heart that has ever
loved her, and when the wave of sorrow
that is now sweeping over her goes by
lover shall claim his own."