Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1882-11-30

a DOMESTIC Fonance as Nara ted sn 1879
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| 0y tie Feter0N JOwrnOhiSf.
Icalled on My-Weed yesterday and foan.
him once more up in the little ibrar,
room down stairs, near the front doc,
where he loves to stay. Hs was lying o.
the lounge, and his faithful daughter wal
sitting near reading to him the morning
news. took the offered band and an
nounced my name to him, fog the venera.
BILE man can no longer see his visitors. He
was very pale and apparently feeble; the
pink had all fed from his cheeks and the
light from his face. l-t
SWELL, I am through another hat sum-
mer," said he, ''but I did think it would
kill me this time"
| Miss Weed said he suffered extremely
during the hottest weather, but was now
gaining fast.
my mind reverts more than ever to the
| old, old times" he said, drawing his hand
over his dim orbs thoughtfuAY.
''Father has been thinking about Mary
good deal for the last few days." said
Miss Weed.
''Her life seemed so strange and beauti-
full, Harriet, as look back at it," said the
old man. st is one of the pleasantest of
my recollections."
Miss Weed began to explain briefly to
me that Mary was his adopted daughter,
who died some years ago, when her father
said if I would like to hear the story he
would tell it. Iassured him, and he be-
gan:
Zone day, in the winter of 1845, while I
was in barber shop in Albany, I heard
that a writing master named Chapman had
been found dead in his room, and that his
daughter, aged two years, had been alone
with her dead father for several hours.
Chapman was dwarf of Incorporate hab-
its, we'll known in Albany. The little
girl was to be taken to the almshouse the
next morning. It was a sad case and
moved my sympathies deeply. men
toned it to my family at the tea table,
without manifesting any feeling, but 1 saw
at once that my wife and children shared
my interest, and when was leaving the
house half an hour later, my daughter
stood at the hall door, and said: Il will 90
with you, father She was right in her
guess. Arriving at Mrs. Wooley's, where
the waif was temporarily lodged, I found
the child, and she came to me readily and
sat on my knee. 1 asked if she would go
home with me, and she spoke up: Yes,
sir'-I remember her sweet voice now.
Well, we took her home, and never think
of her without feeling sure that blessing
went into our house with that child. We
were all made happy by her artless ways
and by the development of her rare and
beautiful qualities. From two years old,
when she came, she grew up very bright
and gOod-at home, at school, with chill
dren and with everywhere she was
a universal favorite. Long before children
generally think of aught but being cared
for she was helpful careful for herself
and thoughtful and painstaking for others.
Before she was five years old she had the
care of her own wardrobe, keeping
everything Systematically in order
and watching for opportunities to assist
her mother and sisters for she was now
one of us). She was always perfect il her
lessons. When she was seven she said she
wanted to make shirt for me; she made
it entirely without assistance of any kind,
and it was so well done that it was sent to
the fair of the American institute in New
York, where silver medal was awarded to
her for the best specimen of plain needle
work. We all became fonder and fonder
of her year after year, anxious only about
her health. In October, 1855, from the eff
fects of cold that settled on her lungs,
she died.
The old man turned over on the lounge
AZ drew long breath, while Miss Weed
went to the drawer and brought forth the
treasured medal of bright silver.
ut was heavy bereavement to u.s. he
continued. Hearing that Mary had a
brother in South Carolina, we went there,
and, oddly enough, the first man 1 met had
adopted the boy whom his mother had
left them some eighteen or nineteen years
before. He had beer adopted by gentle
man there, but VAST, in his third year
in the South Carolina college, having gone
there from the orphan school, where he
won the scholarship for personal merit.
He resembled our lost daughter very
strongly. At our solicitation he visited US
in Albany during the summer, and we took
him to see Niagara. He took cold under
the fall, and being frail like his sister, he
died, and we laid him by her side in No
vember.
During the following summer, while
travelling in France, we became acquainted
with Captain Pageot, of the British
navy, at the table dehote. We had never
met our Mary's mother, but we knew from
others that she was lady of refinement
and education and agreeable manners, and
that her maiden name was Isabella Shore.
Curiously enough, Captain Pageot knew
her we'll and told US her story. She was
one of three daughters of highly respect
able family in England and she formed
stOng attachment for young officer in
the British army. Her family opposed the
marriage. His regiment was ordered to
India, whittier she followed. On her arfiv-
al at Calcutta his regiment had beenscf
dered 300 miles into the interior, whittier
shesalso went, but as they were beyond the
range of civilization no marriage could be
solemnized and before the regiment could
be relieved the young man was killed in
battle. She returned as governess for
Danish merchant, and from Copenhagen
sailed to the Danish West Indies AS house
keeper for Governor Won Schoiten, and
there Captain Pageot heard that she mar
ried and went to the United States. We
have never ceased to mourn for Mary. She
was a child of transcendent qualities, and
of that self-denying and helpful spirit so
often possessed by those not long for
earth.''
Ike old man wiped his eyes snd lay
down upon his pillows to mourn anew over
the old, ever fresh grief.
Rr;ol