Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1882-01-05
NELLY'S STORY.


tired or sick, or sorry? Does he ever
stop ?"
So / used to ask my sister Alice, day
after day, as we took our drive to the
park or SAT at our window in the hotel,
where, in Truth, I spent the greater
part Of my time, idly watching the
busy, restless, ever-increasing, ever
changing crowd that surges through
the great city like mighty wave, seem
ing to ingulf and hurry all before it.
They tire me 50, these people.
Where do they come from, and where
can they all be going? And don't you
suppose that, among them all, there
must be few we should like to know"
Very probably" replied Alice,
laughing, but how are we to impress
those few with wish TO know US? Are
we to send an advertisement to the
daily papers stating that Two, ladies,
possessing many agreeable qualities,
but very few acquaintance, would like
to enlarge their circle, and will receive
applicants (who must bring undoubted
references as to character and position
at such and such a time No, Nelly,
that would hardly do. How shall we
accomplish it? [ am quite ready; to
tell the honest truth, this hermit life of
our begins to weary me just a little. 1
have yielded to your wish to be in per-
feet seclusion; but | can see that the
inspiring atmosphere of New York has
done you good, Nelly, dear, IN spite of
yourself, and now, the sooner we come
out of our shell the better. Let us
look around the hotel, though we
should never have the courage to make
any advances to strangers, even if at
tracted by their appearance; and on
the whole, think the matter will
regulate itself. We have been alone
in 4 crowd long enough, now, and [
want to see my little Nellie in her
proper sphere once more"
And then we wandered off into dis
cussion, or rather long rambling chat,
about the kind of people we should
really like to have.
The daylight died away and we
looked out at the beautiful city ''under
the gaslight," and speculated afresh on
the probable destinies Of the crowd still
tramping under our windows, and with
the evening papers and our many be-
Ours was strange position. We
were both comparatively young. Alice
was now %, and | two years younger.
Without being, by any means, regular
beauties, we were sufficiently good
looking to have been known in our ma
tive town, away down among the Hamp-
shire hills, rs ''the pretty LongdOn girls. y
We were thoroughly we'll educated, had
more money than we knew what to do
with, and were absolutely alone in the
world. Our parents and only brother
had died some years before the time OF
which | am writing, and Alice was a
widow. Poor child! Her story is brief
and sad enough. The man she loved
and married at Is, proved in every way
unworthy, and for three miserable years
her young life was burden to herself,
and cause of ceaseless sorrow to me,
who watched her lovingly, but was
powerless to help or comfort in such
grief as this. At the end of three years
she was released. A fall from his horse
while riding home in state of intoxi-
cation caused the almost instant death
of her husband.
After this Alice was anxious to leave
the old house where there were so
many sad associations; where we had
been happy children and desolate or
phans, and where my darling Alice
had tasted u bitterness worse than or
phanage. But where should we go? 1t
was at the close of our short New Eng
land summer that we held many a con-
sultatiOn as to where we should pitch
our tent. To me it was a matter of
utter indifference, for at that time all
places were alike to me. We knew
something of Boston, and my chief
pleasure during the memorable winter
| spent there was the recollection of
that first day IN the Music Hall. 1t
was, III more senses than one, n marked
day, for from 1t dated my intimate
friendship with Henry West. We had
met at several parties; each had recog-
nized in the other kindred spirit; and,
as he was an habitue of the house in
which was visiting, it became a mat
ter of course that he should escort me
to the various places of amusement and
show me 1.-The lions" | loved music,
but had enjoyed few opportunities of
hearing it; no stars ever wandered so
III Oul,Ol b4AGh dSSOSbOIilSu OIDIGS ITS Jul
little country town; and there was very
little native talent there. When there,
Mr.. West invited me, soon after my
arrival in Boston, to attend one Of the
Wednesday organ concerts. l con-
scented, little knowing what awaited
me.
When the first piece was over Ct re-
member it was the "Tannhauser'
overturel l sat quite still, the tears
rained down my face, but no words
would come. Then it was I knew in
an instant how perfectly sympathetic
were my companion and myself; if he
had st that moment uttered one of the
commonplace of conventional crit
cisms one hears SO often, l should have
hated him forever. But he did not;
he only said very quietly after 1 had
recovered myself little, 81 am so
thankful you heard it first with me, y
and | replied, eff only it might last
forever"
From that day our friendship ripen-
ed fast, and during the remainder OF
that memorable winter the world was
very bright to me. Every week we
went to the Music Hall, and then
studied out with his advice and assist