The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1882-09-20
THE TWO DAWNS.

I was completely worn out, over
worked, the doctor said, and decided
TO take a much needed vacation. /
glanced around with dissatisfied air
ut the articles oil virtu / had priced Sc
highly, many Of which had cost me
more than one meal, thinking how
stupid ! had been working and starv
ing myself merely to crafty an absurG
fancy for rare bits of china and must
old books Every piece OF work / be
gan with so much enthusiasm ha
ceive beautiful ideas, but had neve
succeeded in placing them on canvas
So far had eked out miserable e,
istence; dresminR vain dreams abou
my uncreated works; feeding my to-
vivid imaQination and starving my CO,
poreal self until NV miserable BODY VII
30 thin that it could scarcely refiec
a shadow cursed fac after the or
thodox fashion, declaring / voul
abandon my art. give mp all foolish as
pirations and turn bootblack.
An hour later was standing in the
Erie depot, without any definite ide,
as to where should 90, when pen
tleman, holding a little girl by the
hand, came along and purchased tickets
for station about eighty miles distant
am unable to say why concluded t.
go to the same place, but suppose the
destiny that shapes our ends" sent me
there.
took a seat in the car, and soon fell
into one of my old reveries, from which
did not awaken until reached my
destination. Hastily picking up my
traps, quilted the car, and saw the
gentleman and child standing on the
platform. There was not a vehicle OF
any kind in sight; nothing but long
stretch OF dusty roads and perhaps hal
a dozen farmhouses scattered widely
apart. approached the stranger to in
quire If there was hotel within walk
ing distance, and was informed that the
nearest place where could obtain
lodgings was about ten miles away.
! stated that my stopping at the sta
tion was due to an idiotic habit OF
mine-trusting to chance "The habit
has frequently led me into unpleasant
predicaments, and this is only one more
instance, However, am glad to find a
companion in misery" concluded,
with q lugubrious smile.
81 expected some one to meet us,
but suppose they did not receive my
letter." he observed, 81 could easily
walk to the farm, but it is too far for
the child and do not like to leave her
alone while 60 in search of a wagon"
"You can appoint me her guardian
pro tenn, and perhaps your Jehu will
drive me to the village"
He followed my suggestion, and a
few moments later was plodding along
the dusty road, VIZ lie the child and /
were seated contentedly under q tree
looking at an illustrated paper 1 had
stuck in my pocket.
/ have knack of making friends
with children and dogs, and in a short
time we we're chatting as familially as
if we were old acquaintances. The
little damsel informed me that her
name was Lida Allyne, and the gentle
man was her papa. She had been al
school in the city, and was going to
spend the summer with grandma and
Aunt Matte. She hadn't any mamma;
at least papa always said so when she
asked about her. Perhaps she was
dead, but she didn't know, because
they would never let her talk about heI
mamma.
Nearly two hours elapsed before Mr.
Allyne came back in a farm wagon
then he explained that when he
reached the farm he found his sister had
gone to the village for the mail, and lac
was obliged to await her return.
"Now, Mr.. Conway, since fate hal
thrown us together. and you have rem
dered me real service, l beg you viii
60 with us and spend the. night al my
mothers Tomorrow l will drive yoT
TO the village"
The invitation was rendered will
hearty earnestness, and beng botl
hFpd and hungry, ! gladly availed my