Daily Republican., 1883-09-24
(oRIGINAL.
MY COUSIN DAISY.
BY RYE ROSSE.

l was just twenty-four when / fri
came to Glen Ingle, IA picturesque oil
stone farm house among the mountain
of New Hampshire.
All my previous life had bee
spent,as the son Of a wealthy merchant
in the busy, fashionable city of Ne,
York. Supplied with abundant mean
for enjoyment / had bestowed yer
little thought upon future course afte
leaving college. Very few people Il
days Of prosperity spend much tim
In thinking OF cloudy days to come, an
| was most assuredly not one of tn
few.
But one morning the great firm will
which my father was connected pre-
santed closed doors to the eager, wait
ing public, and before night half tn
city knew the old house Of Thornton &
G. mpany had failed.
No longer was life" pleasan
dream" Stern reality stalked continu
ally beside me and pointed with threat
ening finger to the coming future
Fair ladies no longer greeted me witt
winning smiles and bewildering CLAN
ces. Gay, jovial fellows had hitherto
called friends were now unusually hur
ried whenever l Glanced to NEE
them. Mammas who had always giver
me iDdulgent smiles and called m'
p" dear boy" now passed by me will
averted head. In sh)rt,I was shown IL
many ways thatI was no longer o rich
mans soH.
Fortunately 1t did not take long to
teach me that fact. Within month
after my fathers failure had secured
a position as bookkeeper in thriving
tewn in New Hampshire.
City life no longer held a charm fol
me, an,i having learned that some dis.
tant relatives of my mother lived
not many miles from the town, l wrote
and engaged board with them.
10 was on the IN orning of my first ap-
pearan e at Glen Ingle that met my
cousin Daisy Thornton.
She was altogether new to me, for
had never before that evening known OF
her existence.
But when I stepped upon the wide
porch of the old farm bouse with the
heavy sweetness of roses and honey
suckles floating around and the sky one
blaze OF glory from The setting summer
sun, a slim, graceful figure came up to
me, and putting one warm little hand
in mine said in the sweetest of voices
and in the most charming manner: II
am your cousin, Daisy Thornton. And
am so sorry for you-we are all sor-
ry," then,I say Il felt as If | had known
ler all my life.
That she really did sympa hize with me
know not altogether from her words.
gracious as they were, but from the
touch of her hand, the tender,
,itiful affection of her voice, and the
,arnest look in her dark eyes.
And this sweet sympathy from total
tranger in contrast with the cOldness
# former friends so touched me that
ears rose to my eyes.
I do not remember what answer re-
urned, but l thanked her so warmly
hat she blushed and drew away the
land was holding closely in mine.
Life passed very pleasantly ut Glen
ngle. After long, busy day in the
the quiet evening spent
t the quaint tarm houe e seemed a
lessed relief.
Often, when wearied with the unac-
uStomed toll of the day, would stretch
lyself upon the grassy carpet, under
ride spreading tree in the old garden,
nd Daisy would come and sit beside
ne, and with her musical voice and the
magical touch of her slim fingers upon
ny brow, would charm away the aching
ain. Atsuch times she seemed min.
,tering angel, AID | reyered her more
han ever
How shall I describe to you this
harming cousin of mine No pen por
rait can do her Justice. She had the
most beautiful golden hair in the world;
he red,lest and ripest of pauting lips
perfect contour of face and form, and
be wine-brown eyes, hidden under her
urling laShes, could melt in tenderest
ity or sparkle with roguish merriment.
he was the prettiest and most popular
irl for miles around Glen Ingle. There
Dre IL was not strange she was eagerly
ought after. But at all evening
was her constant attend
mt. 1t was to me she always turned
Or aid or looked for advice, and | was
yer ready and willing to obey her
lightest wish.
| had been her constant companion
)r many weeks before it ever entered
~ head that loved my cousin Daisy.
t happened on this wise:
1t was our usual custom to spend our
at home' evenings upon the wile
over scented porch. Here Daisy would
ring her embroidery or sewing and |
'onld lie on the steps at her feet and
sad aloud from some f,lvorite author,
r talk, and watch the change of her
xpressive face.
On this particular evening she was
ngaged in mendinga pair Of gloves for
he, and suddenly she looked up from
er task and said with mischievous
lance: "My, what will you do when
go to B., and you no longer have
le to sew on buttons and make my
slf generally useful. Poor boy, l pity
ou when the sunlight of my presence
lall have departed.
Nonsense, exclaimed impatient
:, "you are not going away p
"Yes, but am, nodding her golden
cad cmphatically. &C. intend visiting
,me friends who have been urging me
do so for long while.
" How long do you purpose aying?"
inquired indifferently.
"Oh, carelessly, "three or four
ceks.
"Confess now, that you will miss me
hen Pm goner' setting her pretty |
cad to one side and throwing me a
ok of mock sentiment.
CIV would be impolite to say any
ling TO the contrary, but what enjoy
ent you can possibly fiEd in that
,ky little town puzzles me-" and a
ok of supreme disgust crossed my
ce. was angry at the thought that
10 was going away, for even short
at.
Daisy opened her brown eyes a trihe
id-r at my petulant tone. Then
eing my vexation answered mali
ously:
81 do not see how you can call 1t a
,oky town. when you have never
zen there. And | remember on the