, 1881-04-22

vi Tue OlJSCuIt
l slept but little that night. thinking
of IT. Something told me it would al
most break the girls heart. Should /
accept it pay for it myself, and then con-
sign it to the waste basket? No, that
would not do. for she would he anxiously
watching for its appearance in print, and
bringing more stories meanwhile for my
consideration. What could 1 do? Morn
ing found me undecided.
When | took my place at my desk, |
was still undecided. And I had reached
no decision when, in answer to that gen
tie knock, for which l had waited as
believe no editor ever waited for would
be contributors knock before, | again
called Come" She came IN, and sink
ing into the visitors chair. raised her
eyes III mute inquiry to my face. L
searched my brain for some harmless
falserOod with which to soften the blow,
bnt those eyes compelled the truth. Il
have carefully read your story, L said,
"and am sorry to say 1t would not suit
our paper"
The little hands went up to the face;
the veil dropped over them. heard a
stilled sob and my heart began to ache.
But there is no reason, Miss Silver,
/ continued, with assumed cheerfulness,
THAT with few alterations, 1t should
not suit some other. If you will leave
leave it with me, L Will take it home to-
night, revise it, and you can try again"
The veil was tossed aside, ana down
came the hands. "Oh, am so ridicu-
lously afraid of strangers and strange
placesr' she said, wan little smile shin
ing through her tears. 81 should never
have dared to come here had l not heard
| that you were one of the kindest of men.
Is there nothing you can give me to do,
Mr.. Gray? l can read the most illegible
of writing readily talent / inherit
from my dear father-and L can copy
rapidly and plainly"
Now / had nothing on hand which was
/ absolutely necessary that l should have
! copied, but vision of the poor child
/ tOiling up dark stairs into cheerless of.
/ fees, cold and frightened with that, in
its present form, unsaleable story, rose
! before me, and l determined to make
work for her until could find some easy
and permanent employment elsewhere.
| So L said, quickly, as though it were the
very assistance of all others of which l
I stood in need.
eff you are willing to accept work of
that kind, can employ you two or three
hours day for a month or two, and you
]
may begin at once
! Her eyes sparkled the thanks she did
not speak. 1 bade her lay aside her hat
and shawl, seat herself at the chiefs
! desk, and prepare to copy the Chinese
/ like characters of the famous author
over which 1 had been puzzling the day
| before.
She obeyed me with the simplicity of
a child, and soon was bending over her
task. flush of pleasure on her checks,
transcribing quickly and faithfully.
As for me, the sight of that tiny hand
| travelling over the paper with wonderful
/ grace and ease, and the clear-cut profile
dropping above it, caused some ludi-
| crous mistakes in the article | was writ
/ ing, about which mistakes l received no
less than seventeen communications
during the week following its publica-
| ton.
! The two or three hours passed away
! She showed me what she had accom-
plished, with pride, accepted payment for
| it with a blush, donned the summer shawl
and hat, and tripped away, promising to
come again on the morrow. The NOR
row found her punctually at her post,
and so did many morrows, and ut last
| the Ms. was almost copied, and 1 had
been unable to find any other employ
ment for my faithful little amanuensis.
Meanwhile the child had told me her
sad story. Her mother died at her
birth. She had never had any home,
but had always lived in boarding houses
with her father. a schOol-teacher, who,
| dying year ago, left her to the mercy
of an only relative, q wealthy aunt.
! That aunt-heaven forgive her re
| fused to receive her, saying she had
children of her own to look after, and
she saw no reason why the girl should
not follow her fathers profession"
| 81 tried to-" said Winona, "but the
| children would not mind me. Minnie
| MInceitt minds me because she loves
| me. L board with Mrs. Minciett, and
| teach Minnie in part payment for my
| board. Mrs. Minciett is not unkind to
me; but she is not as kind as she was
before papa died. And papa used to
say l wrote excellent comp sitions, and
SO l thought, perhaps, 1 could write
stories for the papers. And 1 was in
duced to come to you first by hearing a
! gentleman, a writer, praise you very
highly one day. He is one of the
kindest-hearted fellows in America he
said. But, for all that, came to your
door three days in succession before l
could get courage enough to knock.
And when l did knock on the fourth
day, you called Come in such an aw-
fully cross voice that l came near run
ming away again. And on one of these
three days, when l was standing out
side, you were laughing and talking
with a handsome young lady. heard
you, and saw her. She had the lowell
est ostrich feather in her hat"
And what has become of the story,
Winona 2" asked 1. She had rebelled
against Miss Silver" or even Miss
Winona, at an early period Of our ac-
quaintance, on account of my being so
much older than she. l was eight
and-twenty, and she ten years younger.
My stOry'-with a musical laugh
(Which you altered until it was almost
your own story? l sent it to the Weekly
Romance Portfolio, and they accepted if
and we'll they might, for thanks to YOU il
was very good indeed. And they sent
me check for it-a very short check for
such n long story-and there il is -
pointing to a cloak jacket that hung be-
sides my overcoat. And now that YOU
have mentioned the story" she eontin-
ued, all her old shyness coming back
again, II should like to show you0but I
am afraid
Nonsense, Winona, you are no, afraid.
What is it:'
"a poem of mine, if it deserves that
titla - nd oh Shol