The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1882-07-13

uctO,
She took the little head, with it
blonde silk curls, between her whit
hands and fondled and caressed it
''Is it not so, little one P-you will b,
loved ?"
But the somewhat sickly and delicat,
little face showed no sign of understand
ing, except that out of the heart-shapet
| little mouth came one of those sighs tha
sound so strangely from children.
l at once gave up all serious objec
ton. Had we not been accustomed fol
years to act independently of eacl
other? Our marriage was not happy
one, although we had not married fol
love. During the noise and hustle O.
the crowded exchange, our fathers haG
contracted this union. She had to teal
her heart from q beloved one, and il
mine glowed passion not yet outspoken
But parental wishes conquered. We
chose to be obedient children; and sc
it happened.
AT the commencement we were tc
each other silent reproach; after
which followed declared war, until
finally we came to polite but gloomy
peace.
To be sure she was beautiful, she was
good and bright and sparkling. Others
called her an ngel. And 1? Well,
believe that was no monster either.
The analysis showed the brightes eel
ors, still the sun was missing. We were
six years married and had no children.
Perhaps had heaven sent us them-well,
ic 20 H..
heard later that she had given the
mother thousand dollars, the price of
a set of jewels which she sold secretly.
"Why did you not tell me of it ?'
said l, half angrily.
Because it would have been too
late if 1 had waited for your return to
the city and besides 1 wanted to have
it entirely for myself ; I want to call it
my own," said she, poutingly.
My horses, my dogs her canaries,
her gold fshes-that 1 could endure
but that she wanted to have her child
for herself alone, that was too much for
me. The thought of it tortured me
one, two days long. On the third day,
my wife having gone out in her carriage,
thcro came yelled woman and de-
manded entrance. 1t was the mother.
Like shadow she glided into the room,
and, with half-suppressed sob, begged
to see her child once more. She could not
part from him forever without imprint
ing one more kiss upon his cheeks.
opened my safe quickly: "Here, my
cod woman" said |, "take that, they
have not given you enough" Hot tears
fell down her wan cheeks; she begged
me not to Judge her too harshly; she
had another child, cripple and help.
less; she herself was sick and would not
live much longer, and what was to be-
como of the children? Then she
hought-I myself had to finish the
'entence, which violent fit of cough
ing had interrupted. eyes," she had
thought, ST will sell the healthy one,
in order that the money may help the
cripple when am dead and gone"
No, she must not be judged harshly;
We rich ores know but little of the trials
and temptations of the poor.
When my wife returned I save her
an account of the call l had had, adding
That had given to the unfortunate one
exactly the same amount as she had
"And now," said I, "you see the child
belongs to both of u.s." She bit her lip
with her little white teeth.
1T is all the same to me- said she
after q moments reflection, and with
that she pressed tender kiss on the
little boys mouth. 1t sounded almost
like challenge.
"Our child !" I scarcely ever sawit.
And the changes that were made in our
household for his sake were made entire
ly without me. Sometimes, after the
most important things were decided,
my consent was then asked, ave are
obliged to have a nurse, hired one,
Anselm"-I nodded silently" We
must fit up nursery F; that room is too
warm for the child" nodded silently,
but I heard the sound of the work men,
who were already busy in the hall
What could I do better? Was it not all
done for cur child ?
My wife and 1 did not talk much
about the child, and when we did men
tion it we used only the name "It."
But this I" It" could be heard through
the house at almost any time of the
day.
Hush not so much noise 1t sleeps!
1t must have its dinner. 1t should be
taken out for a drive. 1t has hurt it.
self!' And so the whole house began
to turn round our cit" This nameless
neuter vexed me.
at must have its own name" said l,
one day.
A" entirely forgot to ask the mother
i mean the woman-what its name
is, answered my wife. "She intended
to come again. But she does not
come, she is certainly sick. Now, I call
it Max. Max is pretty, short name; is
it not ?" "Him," returned 1, between
two draughts of my cigar; "Fritz would
also De quite pretty name" "One
cannot change the name now on ac-
count of the domestics," answered she,
shortly; and then called out loudly:
I" Is Max up already?n Never mind,
was it not our child
Once, though, played my iustifable
part toward our child. At dinner it was
always served at little table in an ad-
joining room. At such times we could
hear, between the scantily-dropping
phrases of our conversation its merry
prattling, accompanied by the clatter-
ing of its spoon. My wife had no rest;
there was continual going and coming
between us and him; tho soup might be
too hot and he might eat too much I!
"Wife," said 1, very quietly but very
decidedly, "from tomorrow it shall eat
with us at our table. 1t is old enough
now with its two years"
From that time on f" 1t" ate with us.
He sat there in his high chair like q
prince, close to my wife; both opposite