Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1882-01-14
MY LITTLE SWEETHEART.

When / first knew her she was fifteen
years Old; was twenty-four. She was
"a schOolmaster's daughter; school,
masters son, We first met one Septem-
Der evening. Her father was strug-
Cling pedagOgue, with family OF seven
children to support, and few pupils. L
had it in my head to become his partner,
and went down first to see how things
were looking. | arrived after lengthy
Journey, and the first thing L saw when
ushered into the room was little girl
seated i'm an old armchair, with big
book upon her knee. She shook hands
with me; and as she did so L noticed
her eyeswere blue, her hair was a golden
brown, escaping from its bonds in rip
ping wavelets; and that she had acur-
iously winning smile, smiling not only
with her lips, but with her eyes and
face and all. Later on | was struck by
the way her little head was poised
upon her shoulders. She was upright
as dart; and when she moved, ii was
with an infinite grace, rs some tiny
queen.
Her name was Emily; to her friends
she was always Elm.
She and struck q friendship. She
always did make friends with all male
creatures, whether } years old or fifty.
/ saw q Scribbler even then, and fancy
the pride of authorship, even in so small
a degree, had n certain charm for her,
which set me up in her eyes. She wrote
her name in my birthday-boOk, and
beneath it | wrote: "My little sweet
heart" 1t lies before me Mt this mo-
ment.
She would fly through her work like
bird flinging unwelcome showers from
its wing. She could not see that life was
real.
Yet had she good cause to see that 1t
was so. Ii was the hardest struggle in
the world for her father and mother to
bring two ends together. Very little
money was ever hers. Her wardrobe
was of the scanties. She knew nothing
of pleas ure as some people understand
il: she lad never been ten miles out OF
the town where she was born. Getthere
must have been some fairy present at
her biIth, for she was like summers
day-always bright. Not that shecOu'd
not be grave. That was one or her
raresU Charms-her gift OF sympathy.
Only let some one whom she knew anu
cared for he in sorrow, and En- would
not be far away. Dark indeed would be
that sorrow which did not change to
light when her sun was shining. Her
voice, her eyes, her arms, all joined 10
drive the shadows away and Soothe the
sufferer with the presence OF her love.
Time sped. | had now known her
more than two years. | was going on q
rambling expedition to foreign parts,
and though knew I WAS fool for my
pains, it was bitter parting. And SO
for time | think it was To her; for III
some way links had been joined between
us without our ever knowing that they
were being forged.
"Well,n said to her the day before l
went, we being alone together. blue
Ewes, how long shall be misSed:"
The only answer was to throw herself
upon the hearth-rug, place her hands
upon my knees, and turn her eyes up TO-
ward my face.
"Ah, blue Eyes" said l, trifling with
her sunny hair, you'll have another
sweetheart in a week
'In n week." said she, in that cur
iously clear voice of hers. do you
think so?" She looked up ndwatched
me for moment: then she turned and
got upon her knees, kneeling in front
of me. "PerhapS so, she said: but
Leaning forward go that her breath
mingled with mine-"hen never be a
sweetheart like you"
What could / do? / knew her so well
/ knew that this was just what she woull
say TO anyone by way OF comiort. l
knew that her words Were as triHes, light
rs air.
..AIake no vows" said l, ''Only to be
broken, You and 7 have had happy
times; why should / OegrudSe the same
TO another"
She was silent; she was now nearly
eighteen, but she was SO small that IL
never occurred to me to think of her as
ANYTHING but little girl. She put her
hand out and took mine, still III the
same quite fashion. Would you ike
me TOTO take another"
EN-" said l, "what does II matter
what like? Before the sun has gone
down upon my going, another day VIII
have dawned for YOU looked at her.
1t come To me that this was very bitter,
and however great fool might DE, L
could not entirely hide what was IN my
heart. "I.ittle sweetheart" said 1, "of:
one thing be sure-I never shall forget
YOU =, -,
She came to me and kissed her. She
still kept her face near mine. "Bertie,
said she-it was the first time she had
ever called me BERTHE; 1t had always
been plain Mister, before, and the name
rang in my ears-"Bertie, I'll not forget
you in a week"
almost pushed her from me. I knew
this dalliance was worse than foIy-l
knew her to well-and rose to my feet.
''No,p said /, with bitter mirth; mot in
a week. but i'll eight days. =,
She made no answer, but still kneit
at my feet. And so we parted, for the
farewell on the morrow was but q form
al one. :,
Two years passed by. Occasionally
/ sent her little notes, pictures of noted
places foolish curioSitieS. But l never
gave her my address. / knew letter
writing was not her strong point, and
for some reason 1 did not like to think
she would not write, althoughshe could.
Through it all bore her memor with
me, and wherever i might be, at times
would come the shadow of her sweet
face. would not own 1t myself, Dut
now and again hungered for sight
of her; and because knew it was so,
and that it was such fooliShness, L stop
ped away longer than l had intended.
But at last / came back. One OF my
first visits was to B.; for, try now hard
could, could not deny the longing
for another sight of her. 1 found that
the position of the parents OF En- had
little improved, and her mother toid me
n s,,k "A
goyerness. Such had always been the
intention; but / wondered what sort of
a governess she would make. A stald
pouvernant? with those blue eyes and
that smile, that everlasting spirit OF
mischief which would be bubbling out !?
Fancy her sober preceptress! And
who were her sweethearts now? Was
there pupil old enough to be made the
recipient of her favors? Or was there
some one who was not pupil still more
oanablaS We'll xrhat did il matter to