The Russellville Democrat., 1880-07-08
MISSION OF A BIT OF LACE.

things go on this way much longerW was the winding up exclamation of Burke Addison's reverie.
 He was sitting by the window in .dressing-gown and slippers, fuming in- wardly over the broken limb which had kept him in doors for weeks. his neg lected business, the state of things in the kitchen and all over the house. He was widower, and slip-shod, laca- daisical girl made an effort to perform the duties of housekeeper for him. He had been a widower over year, and during that time he had sweet taste of the difficulties of getting a good house. keeper. He had changed every few weeks. One indulged too freely in the use of stimulants, and ;n fit of in- toxication came near banning the house ever their heads. Another helped her self to sundry Taluables and then took French leave, A third set before him such outrGgeously cooked dishes that he came near dying with dyspepsia one week and starvation the other, and so on until he had one on sufferance who Inc sometimes thought was worse than any of the rest, who he vowed should be cleaned out as soon as he was about again. He had begun to believe there wasn't capable woman in the whole city, at least none that he could lay his hands on.
 He heard the batter of little feet along the entry, and the door was pushed open by little girl of three summers or thereabouts, who entered holding up her little apron, in which there were some colored candies. ''See what 1 dot from the candy man," she lisped, holding out her apron with her little chubby solid hands and showing them to her father. Then sitting down quietly on the not over well swept carpet, she proceeded to To9ale herself with the sweetIneats.
 He uttered half-dispairing groan as he looked at her thin face, which was very pretty when clean, but was now bedaubea with the colored candies to its utter disfgurement; her tangled cuils looked as if they had not known brush or comb for a week, her stockings were soiled and wrinkled, and the trim ming was torn from her dress in several places.
 "How the child is neglectedp he thought, watching her as, in blissful un- consciousness of dirt and disorder, she smacked her lips alter each dainty morsel. "She is growing up like weed, and her clothes look as badly as any neglected child of the street."
 He had fine, sensitive taste for order and neatness, and the sight of Mabel was positively painful to him. When he married he had made his home in distant city from his own and none of his relatives or those of his wife were near him.
 Something must be done," he solilo- quized, halt savagely. "That girl is wasting more down stars than her head is worth. I'll be bound. l shall have to take oay and look around as soon as I am better. I've sworn 1 won't advertise for them. I should be beseiged by a host of husband hunters. It's plaguey strange that no one of my ac- quaintances knows of good. capable person they can recommend"
 At this juneture girl in a soiled cali co wrapper, that was short behind and long on both sides opened the door. She had dull, mono'onous face, and looking at her one would wonder what could be her mission in the world
 What shall l get for supper, Sir?"
 "I don't care, anything you like" he returned shortly, well knowing the food was invariably spoiled in the cooking, and therefore it was superfluous to or der. The girl looked at him duly and then, without reply, turned and went down staiIs. He grasped his crutches and hobbled around the room awhile to work off his impatience. Mabel began to laugh at his movements, which looked novel to her. and having finished her candy, got up and battered along beside him.
 ''Go down stairs and ask Jane to wash your face and hands" he said in an ir- ritated tone. He loved her, but 1t an moved him beyond measure to see her m such a plight. With suddenly sobered face and quiyering lips, the little one obeyed him, and then his heart smote him for his harshness, T shall become perfect bear before longV' he thought. Poor little motherless thingl must be careful not to visit my annoyance upon her head. She's a good little thing, and it isn't her fault that she is neglected
 He sat down again, and laid aside his crutches. lHe forgot the present for a while, while memory went back and brooded over the past regretfully. Five years before he had been the proud, happy lover of Mary Leonard, bright, sweet, loving, wh0le-hearted girl. It was the old story of love and misunder- standing. He had sent her bouquet of of hot-house flowers and along with it a note telling her of his love, and request Ing her. if she returned it, to wear the moss rose buds in her hair at the party they were both going to attend that evening. The boy, who. arried them caTelcssly, lost the note, and when ques- toned by Burke on his return declared that be had delivered both all right, being too cowardly to tell the truth. His heart sank like lead when in the evening he discovered that she had not worn the flowers. Then pride came to his aid, and mentally calling her a coquette for the wins ome, smiling man. ner in which she had treated him for weeks past, he almost ignored her dur Ing the entire evening, and lavished marked attention upon Kate Denning, who was but too well pleased to receive them. With characteristic rashness, he, alter week or two, asked her to marry him and she accepted him, thinking her lot most blessed, for she had loved hlm all along, and he loving Marion with heart and soul, but too proud 10 even seek nm nyrrlauaYSo,, affar tho clfubf ahe