Orange County observer. [volume] (Hillsborough, N.C.) 1880-1918, 1884-05-24

rt I.ita Cohen's service, had the child
permitted il.
In spite of his afG;ction Joe Minion
was genial old man, with a kind word
and helping hand fer everybody yet
! nalf the miners in that little camp could
have told Of Il time when there was not
a more Incorporate man or harder char
act'r as.cng them all than he That v.as
before. the death Of his wife, t.dings of
which had been terrible blow. Like
thnnderbolt, it had sJlndered the barriers
OF pride and selishness and penetrated
his iron heart.
Lita was comforter then. It was she
| who took him in hand, and petted and
talked with him until his companions
began to notice with, wonder that he was
growing into very different man for
solrow had made the child sympathetic,
and her strong H. ltiueDce over Joe was in
great measure due to this fact.
When John Cohen was killed by the
falling of bowldcr, Lita, little more
i,lan babe then, had become an adopted
| child Of the camp. Later, when en- ac-
cidcnt shut out forever the light from
| her beautiful eyes, she seemed suddenly
TO have grown nearer and dearcr to each
one and to become the object of especial
care; yet, ia spite of their kindness,
there were times when she grew sad and
lonesome. She used then to fly for con-
ISOLATION to her dear friend, the little
organ, and draw from its bosom q melo-
dious response to her mood.
In strong contrast with the gray and
| faded Old woman who was her attendant,
or the bronzed, weather-beaten men
about her, was this child of seven years.
Like a rare, sweet blossom she was
growing up in that wild place with
halo of beauty and purity about her
Young life that commanded almost
alteration from the few rough, yet kind
hearted people.
Nature was kindly, too. The sun
never kissed her soft little cheeks too
roughly, and it's most scorching ray only
added brighter tinteto the long, fair
hair which hung i'll waves below he,
waist, the pride and admiration of her
friends.
Yet it was hard, even for stranger,
to look unmoved upon the great blue
eyes so pathetic in their blindness, and
again.
/ think Lita herself minded it most
after Warren, the poet Of the camp, bad
been telling her of the rugged grandeur
Of the country about them, and de-
scribel the singular beauty of the flowers
which he brought her day after day, or
when one of her big, burly friends laid
in her hand the pictures of the children
tile children whom she had learned to
love as brothers and sisters. She had
known about them all long time, ever
since she could remember, and they
often sent her friendly messages and
little presents, which she used to sit
holding in her hands, a strange wistful-
ness i'll the big blue eyes, great ache
il The little tender heart, at thought that
she must always feel but could never
see
The little girl cared great deal about
all her friends; but lame Joe was her
prime favorite, perhaps because he was
lame. He had grown lamer than ever
OF late, aud was failing very fast; yet
nobody had told I4ita of it; nobody
could bear TO break the news to her.
She used to sit at his side by tie hour,
listening to him or repeating the childish
stories which Warren had read to her.
One day while she was sitting thus, pat
ting his wrinkled checks with her soft
hands, she stopped suddenly, with puz
zlcd look in her face, rs though new
thought had struck her.
"The men say that the mines Of this
district don't pay well enough, and they
will shortly break up and go into an
other country. What will you and l dc
then, Uncle Joe? 2
4 tear trickled down the old man
wan cheek. He, too, was thinking of .
journey into another country, and i
wrenched his heart t-strings to think O
leaving Li,a behind, but he wiped ava,
the bright drops with the ragged sleev'
Of his coat, aud choking down the sol
in his throat made answer:
You will go with them, Lita, N,
child
"And you, too, Uncle Joe. Wha
would you do here without me ?" sh
asked, laughingly, as she clung tighte
TO bis hand.
"No. much, to be cure, little one
not much" he stroked her long, slkel
hair tenderly, wishing that be might b
able TO tell her what no one else wan.es
10: bu. he had not the courage. an,
presently the little girl said
1T is getting chilly, Uncle Joe; let
so in
Bu. the old man went away and di,
not see her again until evening. II