River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1884-02-28
HELENORE.

She came to our door one dreary No
rember day in a pouring rain, and
begged in broken English that we
would take her into our service.
She belonged to miserable French
Canadian family that had lived in the
ity for many years; but, shiftless and
degraded as they were, it was evident
rom the young girls account, that they
considered her the black sheep among
hem; and her mother, always harsh
With her, for some reason had recently
grown more so, until that morning, af-
ier an unusually cruel beating, Hele
pre- she said her name was Helenore
Baldeau-had fed from under her
aand, and shaking off the dust of her
native alley, wandered, she neither
Knew nor cared whittier, till hunger and
fatigue led her to seek shelter with us.
Her plain and somewhat heavy face
was swollen and red with weeping, and
here was look of pleading in her great
soft black eyes that was difficult to resist.
ooh, if you would but try mel7 she
,aid. II can do good many tings; l care
onlY for some bread to eat and place
70 1eev, and'-with a shudder-''to be
lurt no more.
I held the door open and looked at
aer with compassion stirring my heart,
Poor child she seemed so young and
yet so forlorn, standing there in her
tripping garments She could not have
oeen more than 10 or Is years old, and
she looked into my face with an ex
preston of gentle confidence that | felt
would be cruel to wholly disappoint.
And then she asked so little" only
place to leev and bread to eat, and to be
hurt no more"
The tears came to my eyes as the
simple words REQUIRED to me, and
yielding to sudden impulse / took her
in, fed her, and made her as comfortable
as possible; meanwhile turning it over
and over in my mind as to what | should
10 with her.
At dinner time held a consultation
with Jack, the nominal head of our fam
| ily,; say nominal adyisedly, for he in
sists that / defer to him only as mat
ter of form, after having fully deter
mined in my own mind upon any course
Of action.
Be this as it may, he generally con-
firms my decisions, thus making assur-
ance doubly sure; SO this time, after
looking over my Every latest, as he
called her, he promised to go to her
mother and negotiate, if he could, for
Helenore's services.
As a result of that interview he found
out for a certainty that Madame Bal
leau was a horrible old vixen, but she
readily agreed to let her daughter re-
main in our employ if, after a suitable
trial, we so desired.
When Jack came home at night he
found us all together in the sitting
room. [ was sewing and Helenore was
sitting near me playing with little Ned,
our 3-year-old boy.
''Well, Helenore," said he lightly,
II have seen your mother, and you can
stay with us if you are good girl. "
Sometimes quite an audience would
gather around her while she PLAYED,
and she always received their applause
with much dignity, and as a matter of
course. But there was one thing about
this instrument very remarkable and
mysterious; it responded to Helenore's
| touch and to hers alone. Many others
tIied it, but always with poor success.
| Even Jack who has sort of facility
with a dozen instruments, and can play
the whole opera of Patience" on tin
whistle, after fashion, finally gave it
up in despair, declaring that he believed
that Helenore was witch undoubtedly
it was the popularity of her voice that
gave to her footing such wonderful eff
| feet
She seldom sang, and when she did,
it seemed to be solely for the sake of
giving vent to some powerful emotion
otherwise inexpressible Her voice was
low, but very sweet and flexible; she
had no high tones. | think she consid-
cred them too light and frivolous to
convey the feelings of her soul
I once asked her why she never sang
high.
mime heart is down here" she an
swered, laying her hand ON her heart; and
I was glad to believe that in those low,
deep tones of hers, so tremulous and so
solemnly sweet, the strange, poetic soul
of this poor untaught creature found
full expression and was satisfied.
She sang her own words generally,
and they were without connection-a
| senseless jumble; and yet as she sang
them they often possessed n weird and
startling significance Here is one of
her songs:
"Oh happy, happy mel
SO still, so still, white moon.
| To leev, to love. to die
All still and white, to dicl'
| BY questioning / found ont what these
words meant to her. She was alwaysat
ease with me, and could express herself
more freely to me than anybody lse; so
4 II