The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1883-01-13
Come" says Beth shortly looking

falling and it grows late. Why, Gius
eppe, how bright your eyes are, ant
your cheeks glow like roscs For shame
to talk of WEAKNESS, when"
The lad Strengthened his bent should
ers proudly.
YES, it is not meet for man." h
responds with sudden flash Of the eye
and with his head still erect, he goes by
her side up the Green lane at whose
| further end stands the low, white farm
house; but ere he has traversed a rod
her footsteps grow slow and almost
faltering.
WAIT" she cries, pretending to be
breathlcSs, II cannot keep pace with
you. See what pretty shadows yon
trees make. Do you remember you
promised to repeat to me the story of
yaur life again? Why not now when
the birds are asleep, and the gloom is
round about us everywhere"
.But YOU know it already" he afirms,
looking down at her.
II have forgotten" she stammers.
How can he know, unsuspecting lad,
that il is but an innocent subterfuge on
her part 20 gam time.
We'll, It's the old story" he says
quietly. "Nly mother was the daughter
of wealthy Englishman, and while
summcring at Rome she loved and mar
ried IN Italian musician, against her
parents will She lived but year.
and | was left to the care of my father.
who instructed me thoroughly in the
rudimont, Of his profession.
AT bis death my grandfather claimed
me. and taking me TO England, placed
me nj school, Great care was taken
with my education, which had been
neglected; but was not allowed to
touch m Instrument or practice note,
for he hated my fathers profession.
He was very cold and stern with
me. Perhap, il was because inherited
NV fathers features as well M his
tastes.
TO satisfy the cravings of my nature
| was forced to disobcy. We quarrelled.
and, taking my only earthly posses
sion, my violin, worked my way
across the seas.
That winter | spent in New York
doing what could. but when summer
came. | wandered forth again into the
country.
Stopping at the door Of Your dwell
ng for draught Of cold water, l
learned that your good father was in
want of hands, so offered to stop and
work. 1t was better than hunger. "
He says nothing Of the fever and
the weary weeks in the hospital thinks
Beth sadly, land the wretchcd winter. "
As if in answer to the thought the boy
goes on:
In the summer weather was not
unhappy, but when the chilling winds
came again. and the snow Tell, and all
the earth was wrapped in ice, | suffer
ed, for in my own balmy cline ~
Beth
The girl starts hastily at the sound OF
The familiar tones.
You shall not 20 to the meadow-lot
tomorrow she cries passionately.
you shall not kill yourself so, You
are not used to toll Ii is well enough
for the rest, but your soul is finer than
theirs, rs gold is finer than clay They
are blind or they would see it."
The next momcu; the lad stand,
alone.
He goes into the low-eavcd kitchen
and tries to swallow his frugal supper
but the food seems to choke him, so he
climbs slowly to his narrow garnet, and
takes from its case the loved companion
of his wanderings, touching its strings
softly with long. delicate fingers, hard
eucd and roughcncd by toll
a few notes, the introduction to II
wild minor fuguc, falls on the air-then
he lays the instrument down.
"Not tonight" he says wistfully in
his own musical tongue. Not to-
night. am strangely weary and my
veins seem on fire. How cool would be
the touch of her fingers on my head.
All! | SILVER, too. 1t must be that the
cruel winter has come again with its
bitter, bitter cold, and its ice and snow
i -and--snow."
In the cool kecping-room below, John
Manscn talks to Beth, while the mother
plies her busy knitting-ncedles, and
Farmer Lawson mods over the news
paper.
She makes reply to her sutton rs Il
sensible maiden should, and he cannot
! know that She is looking far beyond
him, out to where in the early dusk, the
tall. boyish form had stood, and in
place OF his rugged countcnancc. she
see, only the thin, flushed face and the
dark tevcr-bright eyes OF the Italian
lad, Giuseppe.
The next day there WAS no one to
" ork in the mcadow-lot, and the pallet
in the narrow garnet is empty; but in
Bcth's vinc-shaded chamber. where the
brcczes creep softly through the case.
meuts. the snowy pillows are pressed
by 4 darker head than her own, and the
weak voice filling the air with incohc-
rent rawlings is other than hers.
lie shall not die in this miserable
garrett" Beth had declared vehemently,
and in spite of all opposition he has
been carried down, and Beth installed
a. nurse, clad in soft stuff gown, with
a muslin kcrchicf tied quantity over he,
sunny hair.
SHE is q good child" says Mother
Lawson. 1T is kind heart that vii
care for one not of its own kin"
She will make YOU n famous wife
john quotes the farmer proudly
| Int son ,ykn, ., fnpl,y bopI,- lttl.