The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1883-11-07
INTERESTING SKETCH.
A DOCTORS DAUGHTER.

cd porch, with his Weil-mended mohalr
buster, and the snow-white linen which
Madeline herself had washed and ironed
with such loving hands. book was open,
as usual, On his lap, the tortoise-shell cat
lay purring at his feet, and the spectacles
were pushed up on his mild forehead as he
looked at Madeline
The cir, her fathers only factotum and
housekeeper,-h been very bnsy that
morning. She had fed her chickens, weed
ed the beds of onions, radishes, and early
lettuce, for vegetables cost SO much il
you buy them at the stores" reasoned this
wise little economist. She had done her
ironing in the cool back porch, where the
old blackbird whistled in his cage like O
miniature flute, -she had swept the house,
put fresh roses in the old India china mugs,
and prepared beef-stew and the plainess
of rice-puddings for dinner, and had been
planning to cut out two new shirts for her
father when old Mr.. Rouse came by.
How's the doctor ?" he had asked, as he
stopped to quaff draught of water from the
old we'll.
Quite well, thank you," Madeline had
unsuspiciously answered.
"S'pose he feels quite lost without the
Library to look arter," said MIR. Rouse, wip-
ing his mouth with the back of his hand.
Eh3 Hain't you heard ?" as the surpris-
cd expression of her countenance penetrated
his slow senses. "Well, I declare
They've appointed a new librarian. /
sposed you knew IT, as matter of course"
Madeline dropped her scissors and jumped
up. She did not stay to see whether old
Mr.. Rouse emptied the gourd shell q second
time or not, but ran out to the front porch
at once, to tax her father with this strange.
new thing.
DR.. Maxillian smiled sadly at her out.
burst.
Madeline" said he, I'm getting to be
an old man. It's possible, my dear, Il can
recognizetha fact myself, that have out
lived my usefulness"
But, papa" gasped poor Madeline,
show are we to live?" We only Just man.
age to pay the bills, with the librarians
salary"
We must not forget, my daughter"
mildly answered the old man, "Who II ia
that feedeth the rayens!"
"0h, papa, papa" cried Madeline fling
ing her arms around his neck with curl
Gus mixture Of impotence and alteration,
you are too good for this crowding, selfish
world We are not ravens We nre hu
man creatures who wear out their boots and
are obliged to eat butchers meat at least
once week And there's the rent and the
dshmonger's bill and the carpenters &C.
count for mending the leaky roof, and-oh,
talk about ravens ~
And pretty Madeline clasped her hands in
despair.
Papa" she exclaimed, :" how dared they
dismiss you, like a menial2 And after all
The years in which you have patiently served
thema Why, there never would have been
a Library at all, if it hadn't been for yom
getting that bequest from old Major Mata
dore It was yea that founded it, and
catalogued it, and did everything for it |"
'And in SO far as that goes" calmly re-
sponded DIR. Maxillian, 81 rejoice that /
have been able to serve my fellow creatures.
But I am not so young as once was, Mad
cline. can myself perceive the slow and
gradual failing of my faculties. And the
new President of the College has under.
taken to assume all the duties of Librarian,
in addition to his own, for mere trife. !
can't ask them, can I, my dear, to pay an
extra five hundred year, merely to retain
the services of worn-out old hack like my
self ?"
Papa" said Madeline, nth emphasis,
/ hate the new President"
my dearln f.. ff. ;.
Well, do" affirmed the girl. "What
business has he TO come here and oyerturn
our pitiful little household with his hypo-
critical offers to save money for the Col
iegea Money isn't everything, is It ?"
" It is good deal, my daughter" said
the old gentleman, soberly.
swell, papa" said Madeline, after
minute or two of no very agreeable medita-
ton, it's very nice to be philosopher
like you. But don't know what is to be-
come of us!"
And she ran back into the kitchen to cry
out her grief, where no eye but that--that
of the silver-throated blackbird could wit
ness her tribulation. r Z
Nor should we be strictly truthful chroni.
clers II we omitted TO mention the one or
Two slow, hard-wrung tears of old age that
coursed their way down DIR. Maxillian's
cheek as he turned once more to his book.
=" 1t is q dreary lookout" he thought.
= My Madeline is right there. But trust
am too much of Christian ever to de
spair. The Lord hath been with me in sir
roubles-shall He. not be. with me in
seven ?"
Meanwhile Madeline, after the custom Of
oil maidens, felt decidedly better after she
had washed the mists of her heart away
with that good "cry."
Mrs. Hensaw WINS talking about a gov
erness for her little girls last week." she
,neditated. "rll go and see her. It's just
possible that, inexperienced as I am, ]
might suit the needs of very little girls. OF
COurbc, W Dc u VIEWING koNoihSoos oAOuio
have to be away from papa good deal
but that il one Of the things that can't be
helped.
So Madeline brushed back her glossy
chestnut bands of hair, and put on her one
shabby black silk gown and the faded
+" Stella shawl which had once been her
mothers, and sailed bravely out toward'the
village.
She stopped q minute at the Widow Pout
ley's to get some of the superb white snow.
balls that dropped, an avalanche Of pearly
bloom, over the garden gate. Mrs. Poutley
had score Of questions to ask, and gossip
items to communicate--but all of q sudden
she stopped, and held up her finger.
Hush, Miss Madeline" she said. "D<
you see that gentleman On the other side
81 the road 7"
That tall man, with the PanaIna hat
Yes," said Madeline, with spark Of natural
curiosity. . Hes rather handsome, land
he has distinguished figure. Who Is it,
NJ, pr,x<1ox sftfz