Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1881-10-14


sewing wasn't NICE" rs she herself
informed me. While was puzzling
my brains with vain effort to think OF
some pretty little useless thing, which
Angie might value as keepsake,
the lotter of darling Aunt Lizzie" came
suddenly into my mind and suggested
an idea. Tho list OF books which Angie
could read was necessarily short. Why
couldn't Stella add one to the collection
by pricking of nice little story for her
upon good, stiff paperP
The more thought of my plan the
more it grew in favor with me. even
stopped in at Lee & Moore's, on my
way homo to dinner, to look at nice
wrapping paper--that seeming to me
the most suitable, MS well rs the least
expensive. Finding just what l want
ed, wended my way again to the Dib-
ley tenement and briefly made known
my project.
1 was 10 cut the leaves and write the
story, which Stella would select, in as
plain o hand as | possibly could. She
was to prick every letter through, very
carefully. This, l explained, would
not be an easy task, MS all the pricking
must be done from the under side of tho
paper; but difficulties only made Stella
more anxious to begin.
"But the story! the story ~ she cried.
"What shall l chooseP"
| suggested one or two, which were
vetoed at once.
"She's heard those. She's heard
everything. Her mother reads to her
every day." (And here Stella's face
clouded.) awe could never hit upon
ANYTHING that she had not heard"
Here was dilemma, for we were
both anxious that Angie should have
something new. Stella sat thoughtful
for moment. Then she said, eagerly:
Couldn't you write her story, Mr..
Kellerp Something entirely out ofyour
own headP"
The idea of my writinga story seemed
so very absurd that couldn't help
but Stella persisted.
"You could write about something
that happened to you when you were a
boy. Things did happen to you, didn' t
theyp Oh! a real, true story would be
just splendd!'
Aud so all at once found myself
transformed into an author Remem-
bering sundry amusing escapades of
my youthful days, l decided to put
them to paper, making of them four
thrilling tales, to each of which gave
an appropriate name. These | submit
ted to Stella's approval, which she gra-
ciously gave. She also christened the
book for me. 1t was to appear under
this imposing title: "True Tales of a
Postman's Boyhood."
Well, the leaves were cut and the
stories written. Then came Stella 8
work of pricking them in. This was no
small undertaking, and the difficulty
was increased by the frequent visits OF
the blind girl herself, who seemed TO
"count each day LOST of which she did
not spend some portion with her poor
little friend.
"And wouldn't for the world take
it out when she is here" said Stella,
despairngly. "She will see every.
thing, if she is blind"
But the evenin IS remained and Stella
was diligent. Two days before the
birthday the stories were ready. The
little girl closed her eyes and passed
her hand complacently over her work.
'If fingers can see anything, I'm
sure they can see this" said she; and
thought so, too.
Out of pretty pasteboard box we
made the covers, into one of which
pricked the title with shoemaker
awl. When our work was finished
there was nothing about the book
which Angles fingers could not see
but the different colOrs of the leaves
Nd AZ hYi.r .rht lstt1a r,
ribbon which tied them together.
"And now'' cried Stella, "let's dc
it up; but first you must write her name
upon the wrapper, and I'll prick thai
in, too"
So the wrapper was carefully directed
to "Miss Angie Trowbridge.'' Then
wrote in corner these words: "A
birthday gift from her friend, Stella
When all this was pricked in the pack.
age was ready.
Another whole night before to
morrowr' exclaimed Stella. "Deal
me! / can't watt
And | was scarcely less impatient
OF course, it will seem very foolish tt
any sensible person, but must confes:
that / slept very little that night; bu
morning came at last. As | turned into
Beverly street | saw Angie at her gate
and gave an extra emphasis to the
"clicE" of my stout boot-heels, whicl
she had learned to know so we'll
She came at once to meet me. IAN,
letter for me to-dayP"
81 believe not" said /, trying tt
speak calmly, "but here is q mysteriou
package which has come into my hands
1t is as funny as that letter you one,
showed me. See if you can make i
OUT
She took it eagerly Qhe unravelipg O
mysteries seemed always keen pleas
ure to herr and passed her fingers owe
the wrapper. L watched her earnest
changing face, at first simply curious
then eager, then delighted.
Something from Stella!" she cried
"a birthday gift. Isn't she goodP Oh
Mr.. Keller. could you stop just mo
ment, to unite it for meP"
cut the string. With hands almos
trembling with eagerness, she removed
the wrapper. Her fingers saw the book
saw the leaves; scanned them as peO
ple's eyes are wont to do before read
ing; then they read for her the It'll
upon that cover.
New stories for me. Stories tina
even mamma doesn't know. / can rea
to her now. Can't 1? Oh! j than
Stella so much! l can never tell he
half" And the enthusiastic littl
maiden put the book to her lips an
kissed IT.
Her childish gratitude so touched m
that l could not speak for moment
Before i could recover my voice tn
busy fingers had read the rest of tn
title.
"'True Stories of Postman's Boy
hood Oh! [ hope you wrote then
Mr.. Keller"
pleaded guilty.
"And they are really, truly trueP"
"Really, truly true"
She drew long breath. as if til
prospect OF the coming enjoyment wei
too much for her. Then she took m
hand and squeezed it tight.
Al can think what make you all {
good to me-" she said, simply.