The Newberry herald. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, 1881-09-14
Family Companion Literature Miscellany News Agriculture Markets
NEWBERRY s. c. WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER IA, 1881.

stamped her pretty leeL, Hes my
little Pappoose, pale and thin and
sad. She is sleeping now, her
loose hair, like shadowy covering,
hides the fringed eyelids, and one
fair arm is thrown over her head.
Outside 1t is showing, cold and
bitter. Her mother has left me
to watch her a moment. She has
been very low, Dan having
thrown her on a rock and aim ost
crushed her tender skull. Con-
cussion Of the brain, the doctors
said. Five days we have watch
ed and waited, and she is still un-
conscious.
Yhe weary hours we watch over
our loved ones, i'll or dying, are
the most miserable of our lives.
/ How we tremble at the senseless
glance Of the eye, the glow or
pallor of the cheek, the wild NUT
teriDgs of discontented dreams of
! delirium
But to-day the WEAKNESS passed
away as heard Pappoose turn on
ber couch and say:
'Mr. Walterr
Quick as thought l am by her
side, and her hand is in mine.
Where is mammal
She is down stairs, little Pap
poose.'
Why are you watching me?'
Because | love you, Pappoose.'
Wont mamma do it?'
Yes, she has just left you. You
don't care for me staying with you,
do you ?
How long have you been
here p
Only few minutes
You had better 60 way. l am
we'll
90 out in the cold. l can't
understand it. | believe Pap.
poose loves me, but she is so art
less and childish in her manner,
that | cannot tell. For some rea-
son I dare not ask her. | feel
hurt, aud yet ! know not why.
Her mother asked me to remain
in the room few minutes while
she was sleeping. Was it maiden
modesty, or does she dislike me? ?
walked up the street with the
snow drifting in my face, north
wind twisting my hair into curls
with it's cold ferceness. Two men
in front of me, mufied up in warm
ulsters, are talking rapidly as they
hurry through the cold. One of
them says:
She's good one. That young
fellow Bascom thinks be has got
it all his own way but wait till
be goes and she'll come back to
me quickly. Laura loves me bet-
ter than anybody else in the
world
My name is Walter Bascom,
and Pappoose's name is Laura.
My jealous fancy makes the ap:
plication Immediately. | follow
them up, and stop the first &C.
quaintance l meet TO ask the
names Of the two men. One is
gambler, the other, who spoke Of
Laura: is the keeper Of variety
theatre in the town his name is
Joyce.
Maddened with pain and an
guish, l retrace my steps. I find
Laura sitting up in bed, much
better. She is not unkind, but
says:
Mr.. Walter, l beg your par
don; am very grateful for your
kindness to me-
I am feeling mean, and l say ::
4 would be glad to see you
looking so we'll, but it seems Mr..
Joyce would be better pleased
How the dear, tender face, the
piteo1s wall come back to me at
ter the lapse of years. She droops
over like a flower cut down. Her
breathing is faint, and we can see
the pnlsations through the recent
wound.
Poor little Pappoosel She never
spoke again. She is dead now
and | never knew and never shall
know whether my unkinduess
killed her or not.
1t seems like 3 dream from
hich | have awakened. The viii
lage is but memory, the ch urch-
yard where Laura lies a myth
and Lulie, who is my wife now,
kiaaas the sadness from nv brow