The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1882-09-29
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VIOLA
Thrice Lost in a Struggle for a Name
CHAPTER U.-CoNTINUED.
BY MRS. X. d. EDISON.

Sh-hI lI-tONIlNDED
81 don't know his name, but know
him. His eyes are so queer-iust the
color of my bronze slippers, with bits of
yellow in them sometimes--there was
when he saw my mamma. | know
twas him on the beach. because he
went in the boat. and wasn't in the YES
sci after it was so dreadful
Ben Anderson remembered the odd
color OF Mr.. DeVries' eyes, and asked
if that was the name; but she did not
know, and the subject was dropped.
In the quiet country burying ground
there was new made grave, and ma
ture, who is the tender mother of us all,
took the fair stranger gently to her
bosom, and her plying hand-maidens,
the birches and walnuts, dropped their
soft train of gold over her pulseless
breast.
There was little definite the child
could tell of her history. They had
lived in France, always. as far as she
could remember, but her mother was
not French. They had boarded with
an old woman whom everybody called
Madame, Once, a long time ago, a
handsome, dark man used to come and
stay days and days with them, and then
they were all so very, very happy! Her
mother used to play on the guitar, and
sing, o, such lovely songs. and some
times he sang with her; and she was so
bright and pretty when he was there!
But one terrible day there came letter
to her mamma, and she just dropped
down on the floor, and she never
opened her eyes or spoke all that day,
but the day after she told her that her
papa. the dark, handsome gentleman,
was dead-drowned in crossing chan
mel; she was sure it was a channel, she
had always remembered that After
that her mother never talked of him
again. but she cried sometimes, and
always when she received a letter,
which she did once in long time. She
had one Just before they came away,
and it made her grow white and scared
looking, and the next day she told her
they were coming to America to live,
and then they came away from Mad
ame's and staid a few DAYS in a
for an old colored man, and then
one dark night they came On board
the lie Bran. This was all she could
tell having any direct bearing on the
story of her life.
Once. twelve years before, little
sunny haired girl had frightened for
ten short, sweet months the home of the
Andersons. But one soft June day,
when the heavens dropped low over the
earth, she slipped softly back to her ma
tive skies Ever since there had been
little vacant niche in Myra Ander-
sons heart. Into this sacred place, be-
fore any of them were aware, Viola
crept. Of course there was no more to
be said about giving her up to the town
authorities, as Mr.. Anderson had at first
proposed. Viola, herself, would doubt
less have made very strenuous opposi-
ton TO any such disposal of herself,
and she had not been in the farmhouse
month before they all learned that
her opposition was generally very de-
cided thing. There was no Disgusting
tie fact, Viola was fiery, passionate
child, imperious as aQueen, and as will
full and as proud. But she had with it
all a warm, generous and unselfish
heart, that despised falsehood, and
meanneSs, and cowardice. Ralph, from
the moment he had sprang into the
boat to come to their rescue, had been
the object of her greatest reverence and
most passionate worship. He was
brave and unseifish, and those two traits
were her passion. Her mother had al
ways been timid and sensitive, and she
had grown to believe that that was why
she was unhappy, and she said to her
self, mo one should ever make her
afraid" and, indeed, there seemed lit
tie fear of it. But perhaps pride was
The trait in her character-it was, at
least, the most ungoyernable one. Not
pride of dress or looks. do mean, but
pride of birth, and name, and respecta-
bility. 1t was something as natural as
her breath, and one day, when she had
been there but week, Ralph found her
living with her face buried in the cold,
rank sedge-grass. in a paroxysm of
rage and tears. He knelt down and
esSayed to lift her face to his bosom.
go awaym she cried, fiercely. II
don't want to see you. / don't want to
see ANYBODY: l want to die. I'm only
a charity child-a little pauper without
any namer,. :,
You are my little darling, Viola"
he said. smoothing away the damp,
raven hair from the hot little face,
s.and it makes me feel bad to hear you
talk So"
..Then I WON'T" she said. strug-
Cling to choke down the great sobs that
Shook her slight frame. "But they
said so. and l know it's true, and 1