The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1883-08-09
IN THE EARLY SPRING.

n P'Io youhS IHIuS, Will Sucn
wealth of wonderful hair pushed off the
low brow. A ray of sunshine struck the
silken waves of red-gold, showing the
lavish abundance and exquisite texture
of Sirene Selwyn's one beauty, as she
bent closely above the sewing in the
little sitting room of her home.
A very plain room, but neat and COM
Portable. A rose-colored hyacinth,
blossoming on the window, filled it with
fragrance.
On the lounge lay an exquisitely beau
tiful child asleep. She was carefully
covered and Sirene glanced at her with
oolioitudo from tinIo to iIne.
So radiant and rosy was little Nan,
it did not seem possible that the pale,
frail creature stitching her life into her
sewing could be her mother, but it was
so, and Sirene lived for her child.
Four years before, when barely six
teen, she had married her first girlish
fancy. Light-natured, vacillat.ng, self
ish, he lived but year, yet in that
short time wore her love out.
But then she had the child, the little
golden-haired thing, her own image.
Sirene had been an orphan at her
marriage. When her young husband
died she felt baby Annette to be '.the
one bright thing to save her yet young
life in the wilds of time.'
Its smiles amused her, its weakness
gave her strength to toll for its support
and her own.
And the little creature throve, though
the toll and close application told fear
fully upon her own health.
Sirene was but shadow of her old
self.
Suddenly the child opened her brown
eyes. threw off the little blanket and
clipped to the floor.
''My darling" said Sirene gently.
Little Nan came directly to her moth
er's knee.
The two looked questioningly into
each others eyes.
Mans hundry," lisped the child.
Sirene shrank over her sewing again.
For one bitter moment she was silent,
then she spoke with forced cheerful
ness:
Mamma IS hurrying to get her work
done. so she can have some money to
buy Mans supper"
The child's rosy lips quivered a little.
Mans hundry now," she said.
Sirene arose and went to the closet.
There was a plate of dry bread there
nothing more.
She gave the child : piece vf the
bread. The pretty eyes looked up un-
satisfied
Nan wants some milk"
II haven't any, my DEAR answered
Sirene, as she returned to her sewing.
All, how hard it wasi Hunger
gnawed at her own stomach but sharper
was her hearts pain as her needle flew,
for the little one, with childhood's un-
reason, stood by with reproachful eyes,
and the unpalatable bread held loosely
in her little fingers.
Little Nan could not understand, and
the tears began to roll down her pink
cheeks.
She had gone to sleep ''hundry,"
been coaxed off to her nap, with prom
ise of "a nice supper" and why was it
not forthcoming? Had not her pretty
mamma always fed her on good bread,
nice fresh milk, and ripe fruit? Why
was she denied this now?
She went silently for her mug, and
came back to her mothers knee. A
tear fell from the mothers eyes upon
her white work. Little Mans brown
eyes widened.
"Oh, my child" said poor Sirene,
leaning back, chat her tears might not
soil the snowy cambria, ''we are starv-
ing"
Hitherto they had lived in comfort.
Srene had been fairly paid for her fine
embroidery and exquisite sewing; but
Mrs: Waldegrave, her chief patron had
lately left town, and on shop-work her
income quickly decreased.
But though she had worked much
harder than ever before lately; and
grown thin with care, she had not been
able to provide for their necessities.
She had given the child her own
breakfast. had herself eaten but a few
crumbs of dry bread; and nowhere
was no denying it-they were starving!
Hurry as she might with her weak,
trembling hands, she could not finish
the fine shirt in time to receive her pay
that night.
Sirene threw down her sewing, and
going to the mirror, faced her own re-
Election.