The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1881-03-12
transcribing quickly and

y
Tor me, the sight of that tiny
travelling over the paper with
aqerful grace and ease, and the
cut profile dropping above 1t,
<zeq some ludicr0us mistakes in the
4 @e was writing. about which
I akes / received no less than
nteen communications during
Is week following its publication.
ie two or three hours passed
Wy She showed me what she had
ase1mplishad with pride, accepted
pHEment for 1t with bulsh, donned
''f WINNER shawl and hat, and trip
away. promising to come again
a't pc marrow. The morrow found
ileE pun nctnally at her post. and SC
4 any rlorrnWs. and At last the
NJ. ;, was almost copied. and I had
been unable to find any other EN-
ployment for my faithful little aman.
uensis. 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 a year
ago. left her to the mercy of an only
relatiye, a wealthy aunt. That aunt
Heaven forgive her !-refused to
receive her, saying she had "children
of her own 10 lsok after. and she saw
no reason why the girl should not
follow her fathers profession"
II tried to-" said Win0na, "but the
children would not mind me. Minnie
Minceitt minds me, because she loves
me. board with Mrs. Minceitt, and
teach Minnie in part payment of my
board. Mrs. Minceitt is not unkind
to me; but she is not as kind as she
was before papa died. And papa used
to say wrote excellent compositions.
and so l though, perhaps, / could
write stories for the papers. And |
was induced to come to you first by
hearing gentleman, 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 I did
knock on the fourth day, you called
Come in such an awfulIy cross voice
that came near running away again.
And on one of those three days,
-ssistu was standing outside. you
We're laughing ana talking with a
handsome young lady. 1 heard you,
and saw her. She had the loveliest
ostrich feather in her hat"
"And what has become of the story,
Winona ?" asked /. She had rebelled
against "Miss Silver" or even Miss
Winona," at an early period of our
acquaintance, on account of my being
so much elder than she. I was eight.
and-twenty, and she was ten years
younger.
"My story"-with musical laugh
(which you altered until it was al.
most your story? l sent it to the
Weekly Romance Portfolio. and they
accepted it; and well they might. for.
thanks to you, it was very good in
deed. And they sent me back for it
"a very short check for such "A long
story-and there it is" pointing to a
cloth jacket that hung beside my
overcoat. "And now that you've
mentioned the story" "she continued.
all her old shyness coming back
again, II should like to show you
but l am afraid"
"Nonsense. Winona, you are not
afraid. What is it?"
IA poem of mine, if it deserves
that title :" and she pushed a paper
across the desk to me.
/ unfolded it, and a really pretty
little poem, which, however. in spite
of its prettiness, 1 found as insult.
able for our paper as the story had
been. After reading it, I sat appar-
entity buried in thought, conscious
that Winona was glancing at me
every now and then from under her
long lashes, hut in reality puzzling
my brain, as 1 had hundred times
before, as to what was to become Of
the peor,' pretty, frank. innocent
girl. left alone to battle with the
world.
"By Jove! !" I exclaimed aloud,
ITS too bad"
"Is it so very bad ?" she asked. in
altering tones.
II wasent't referring to your
verses. Winona. They are very good
Indeed, my-I should say Winona."
And you will accept them ?"
parried the question with an.
other. In fash, my heart had been
revealed to me.
"Winena, will you write valen.
Fi1o far oox,o. nA.,lI 10 aax,