Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1883-03-21
POOR LOUISE.

with large blue eyes and wealth ofgolden
hair, which was almost entirely covered up
with gay cotton handkerchief.
Outside the door, on the rough-hoOred
gallery, sat the father, contentedly smok-
ing his pipe.
Beside window, in large homemade
armchair, sat man reading, OF pretend
ing IN read newspaper. who differed in
every particular from those around him. A
glance showed him to be city-bred. He was
fully IS years of age, with dark hair and
whiskers a~d his face though not strik-
ingly handsome, was very pleasant to look
upon. His hands were white and shapely,
and his dress was elegant and scrupuiously
neat He was cotton agent and had come
out into the pinery woods to secure, at a
low valuation, the cotton crops of the plant
ers in that almost sterile region. He drove
his own team, light, handsome buggy and
dark chestnut bay, whose glossy coat
shone like satin.
He seemed to have finished his business
in the neighborhood, and only fingered
about the home of Louise enjoying sort of
elegant leisure. For a long time silence
reigned in that little room before Louise
broke it by making the remark about Emf
ly Stanhope. No answer had been re-
turned, and the girl continued to rock her
self back and forth for the next ten min.
utes in perfect idleness, with a wistful,
longing look in her big blue eyes, as
though she had wish, but feared to form
it into words. She ventured, at last,
another remark.
Emily was Just as old as l am now
when she went away to school, and that
was two years ago. Last night at the par
tv all the young men were waiting on her,
and hardly wanted to notice anybody else.
She was dressed so beautifully, and didn't
look like any of u.s."
"Well, child" sighed the mother, "fath-
er is not so rich as Mr.. Stanhope, and, be-
sides, he always said that he loved you
too we'll to let you go away from him so
far and for so long time"
"But, mother, I would so like to go to
bearding-school, just year, and as father
has only me to spend his money on, why
not let me go?"
"Ask him; if he does not object won't
say a word against your going; but take
the pitcher to the well for some fresh water;
this is Just as warm ss it can be-"
"Why not send Amy for the water?
don't want to do the servants work. I
want to go to school. Emily says she
lever intends to work about the house any
more No ladies ever do"
"Why! Louise; what has come over you?
You had better not let your father hear you
talk SO; if he does hear you, good-by to all
your school notions; go get the water"
Louise took up the pitcher wit sullen
air and started for the we'll. As she passed
out through the door where her father sat,
he reached out and caught her arm, and,
irawing her to his side spoke lovingly but
decidedly.
81 have heard your conversation with
your mother bout going off to boarding
school, and it grieves me to see you so anx-
ious to leave your home, but you need not
hope to do so while you are under my charge;
you are fine enough for my daughter now,
so don't let me hear another word about
boarding schools. Now kiss me and be
good girl"
She kissed him, but it was not the inno-
cent kiss of heart free from guile.
When she reached the we'll she was sur
prised to find the strange gentlemen sitting
quietly on the curb as if waiting for her to
come.
Advancing to meet her, he took the pitch
er from her hands and said, in his softest,
blandest tones: Il came to help you with
this heavy bucket. You are too little and
light for such heavy work; sit down here
while fill your pitcher"
He seated himself beside her saying:
"And so the little wild bird would like to
fly away from this rough nest to more
beautiful home would she? Now, if she
were my little sister, she could go to home
in the city more lovely than Emily Stan
hope has ever dreamed Of"
The girl listened with rapt attention.
eff father would only send me there; he
is able to do it, but he won't, just because
want to co." she burst out with at last
struggling hard to suppress her tears of DIS
appointed vanity.
In the suburbs of city reposing on the
high bluffs overlooking the broad Mississip-
pi, stood noble mansion, its rooms decked
off with costly furniture and surrounded by
a garden SC tastefully laid out as to attract
and charm every eye. Srolling up and
down its broad walks could be seen at times
many forms of rare loneliness, and Louise
was one of them. Dressed out in costly
robes, she was the most beautiful OF them
all. They were fallen angels; her wings
were yet unsoiled, save by contact with
them. The girl had never heard an impu, e
word in all her life. But few days
residence in that house could not fail to
open her eyes to the surroundings, and she
began to realize that instead of attending
school, she was condemned to life of in
amy. Rushing into the presence of her de-
stroyer, she sought to overwhelm him with
reproaches, but instead of words, her life
came ebbing out in crimson stream. Cast
ing one hurried glance at her as she lay
upon the floor, the mar took his hat and
departed. A little later a passing steamer
bore him away from the scene of his fear
full crime, and he was heard of no more
The next morning a negro going to
serve the house with milk, on her way to
the kitchen had to pass little clubhouse
and hearing piteous means and the plead
ing tones of childish voice, peeped
through window and saw sight that
froze her blood. Hurrying away the wom-
an had the good fortune to meet clergymen
whose heart was always open to the cry of
the distressed, and to him she told her feariGl
story. Thinking that murder had been
done, he obtained the services of a consta-
ble and made visit to the house. The
sufferer was Louise. A physician was SUM-
moned, and every effort made to render
her more comfortable and calm, but all
without avail. Christian ladies came and
ministered to her, and from her wild raw
ings they gathered the story of her abduc-
ton, but no clue could be obtained to
lead to the finding of her parents. The
mistress of the house only knew that she