The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-03-07
ger the faithful, attentive little hand

window as if she heard her own name
called. II she were sent down town on
IN errand, she was unaccountably long
in returning and. finally, one afternoon
when she took little Ned for his accus-
toned airing she was gone for hours,
wandering away across the fields, and
bringing him home at dusk lying back
last asleep In hin carriage, with o wreath
OF violets like a halo round his golden
head, and more clutched tightly in his
chubby hands.
She received my surprised ,reproof in
sullen silence. and l waited in vain for
some account of her absence.
She grew more and more strange and
restless every day, f~retting and chatting
over her light tasks like some Gagged
animal, until finally, I questioned her.
"Helenore,' saidI kindly, what is
it that ais you? Tell me, and I will
try to help You"
At first she frowned darkly and would
not answer. but when [ laid my hand
gently and coaxingly upon her head
] had noticed she loved to. have me do
so-she yielded and her tongue was
loosed.
"Oh. madam, do not be ar,gry!o she
cried. "We have gypsy blood in us,
mine moder do say--and oh, 7 would be
Notwithstanding outher arms toward
the distant fields with a swift and elo-
quent gesture Of longing. "Oh, let me
go! Imust gow
/ was both shocked and disappointed,
and I told her so, and tried to reason
with her.
Where would you go?" l. asked.
NThere are no gypsies near that you
could join, and you would soon starye
and die alone; and, besides, how can
you leave poor baby and me? Do you
not love us. Helenorew
aOh,I do, / dor she cried, passion
ately, throwing herself down upon the
floor; "and I do not try to hear the
call, | put mine fingers on my ears,
but I hear them just the same!"
"Who calls you, Helenore?" I asked.
tsAH things out-o'-doors; the birds
and lboes and winds. They call me-, al
ways, always: they say, 'Helenore, Hell
enore. GOMEZ and I must gow she
cried, springing to her feet and looking
wildly around. .s
l feared she was losing her mind, and
was much alarmed about her; we tried
to divert and amuse her in every pos
sible way, and for a few days she really
seemed tobe more quiet,
But one morning we missed her. The
afternoon previous, a hand organ-grind-
er and a woman, evidently his wife, en-
tered our grounds. Helenore went out
to hear them play; and we noticed that
she stood ~conyersing with them some
time afterward.
They had been hanging about the.
neighborllood for seyeraldays and some
how We felt sure that she had gone with
them, Our suspicians were confirmed
by a farmer living a mile or SO above lis
who said he met them just at dusk, as
he was returning home from the city-a
man and woman and our Hei,enore. He
said he's Recognized Helenore at once,
and spokesto her, bnt she made ITO an
5swer.
We learned furthermore from her
mother that an organ-grinder and his
wife-old acquaintance of the family
had been in the vicinity for u week
past, and had put mp o night or two at
her house; and she donbted not that
they were the same persons we had in
mind. Shemade light of her daughters
disappearance, saying with q shrug of
her fat shoulders, that ssshe would be
back soon enongh," and seeming to think
that in any case we were well rid Of her.
But we missed her and we mourned
her, and did not try to fill her place.
My very latest as Jack still called
her, seemed to have proved a sad fail
ure.
y '
l was lingering in my rose garden in
the twilight Of o warm September day,
hanging fondly over a bed Of pet hy-
brids-latest and sweetest Of roses
when / suddenly missed little Ned from
my side, and looking around for him, I
spied him swinging on the front gate. Il
started to go toward him, and ut that
moment the figure of a woman sprang
up, as it were out of the ground near
him, and at the same moment I heard q
glad cry from Ned: "Helenore! Hell
%enorei"
II was our Helenore! She caught
himwto1er breast and flew, swift as the
wind across the lawn to meet me, and,
dropping on her knees, with onearm
still around the bewildered child, she
chung to me desperately, sobbing and
grooming; but not Il word did she
speak.
l begged her to rise, but she would
not; so I sat down there on the damp
grass, and, taking her head in my lap,
soothed her with the old touch OF the
hand she loved so well.
At last she heaved y long tremulous
sigh and lifted her face to mine.
II can not ask You to forgive" she
murmured humbly; "that would be too
good for Helenore; but I come to see
You once more, and to. tell you what is
so heavy ere"-pressing her hand on
her heart-'and then to die"
He'd her into the house and drew
from her the history of her experience
since she left us in the spring.
"Were the people with whom YOU
went away kind to you?s T asked.
"Kind!s she cried tierceiy. sob, they
We're indeed most cruel! True, they
didnever hurt me like nine moder, but
they have made me SO to suffer that 1
wish not now to live any more
But you liked it at first, did you
not-the fields and woods and the mu-
sic?p
Eyes; / like well to wander and to be
free; but | learned o 0 that only chill
dren and birds and squirrels are truly
frce-not woman with a heart here and
here-touching her forehead and lay
ing her hand on her heart.
! wondered at her words, but I I'M
derstood them later.
For a few days we had ahappy time,
and they We're good to me, but then
troable came. could not dance when
L uaa triad md an,,ll .A l..u -