The Pickens sentinel. [volume] (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, 1885-04-16
BABN'S SiICISIGT.

'Nina dear, won't you come and
play with meP" and little Arthur gazed
up wistful!y into the delicate. drcumv
face of his sister
Nina turned slowly in her big cush-
ioned chair a s nile of intense sorrow
breaking over her paliid lips.
Are you tired Of playing alone,
h2hT9" she asked softly, laying her
small thin hand tcnderly on his golden
curls.
"Oh, so tired! When will YOU be
able TO play with me again in the gar
don? You used to hc so gay; now you
are always sod. and sitting in here
alonc,' reproachtullv.
A few tears tricklci down the little
girls pale checks, and she heavcd
deep sigh.
Poor Artie! l wish / could run
about as used. 1t makes me very I'M
happy to think of those bright davs,
when we ran SO joyfully amongst the
pretty flowers, chasing the bluewingcd
butterfly, or when tired, resting be-
meath some shady tree, Watching the
tiny birds fly from branch to branch,
singing so swcctiy. Will that time ever
come again, l W Nndcr''
Artic listened IN silence to his sisters
words, scarcely grasping their mean
ing, only knowing that she had
changed since those days; the once
bright merry child had become pale
and languid, never leaving, without
aid, her chair by the window
''Sh"l y"" b" i'll lnn~pn hn "oltod in
his sweet childish voice, his innocent
blue eyes raised questioningly to hers.
II do not know, baby dear. L think
soon the pain will leave me, earnestly.
''Then we shall be able to play to-
gethcr in the garden again?" a ray of
hope filing his mind.
Nina smiled sOrrowfully. and her
eyes wandered towards the plcasarfH
scene stretching before the open win
dow.
Summer will soon be over Artie,
and in the autumn there arc no flowers
to cut, Or butterflies to chase; even the
birds leave us then for SUMMER lands"
Artie5 bright look faded, and his
rosy lips took dolclul curve.
DIR. Cl.N j.; very naughty, Nina. not
to make Yea well. Why does he como
here every day if he does not cure
youP'
Nina'S answer was interrupted by
the entrance of Mrs. Arrol, to whom
Artc ran with outstrctchrd arms.
'Nhat Is j.. baby-what has hurt
your she asked tcndcrly, lifting her
little son on to her knee, as she sank
into chair beside Nina.
Nina rapidly explained, her words
bringing troubled light to Mrs. Ar
rolls eyes, a bitter pang to her heart.
Poor Artie! Well, he cannot want
you more than l; he must have patience
for little while. Soon you will be rs
strong and well as ever" she said
hopefully, feeling far from believing
the words she used to soothe the boys
grief
She had knowa for some time the
fatal trath: that her gentle little girl,
in spite Of all their nursing, would
soon leave them in sorrow; the doctor
had broken the news to her one sum-
mcr eve, when Nina, after a long run
with Artic, had quietly tainted away.
Since then she had grown gradually
weaker; unable to play with her
brother; too weary for anything but
rest, day after day, in her large chair,
drawn close to the easement from
which she could sec tho dear old gar
den, where Artic roamcd in moody
solitude.
The days passed swiftly by, and still
Nina grew more fragile; and one
morning Artic, suddenly entering the
house, saw DR.. Cliff and his mother,
the latter with fearful face, talking
earnestly in the hall.
"You say the end is near? Can you
not tell me how long it will be before
my darling leaves n.e?" Mrs. Arrol
asked plcadingly
The doctor shook his head, then
pointing through the open door, said
gravely:
''Do yon see yonder trecs-tho once
green foliage yellow, and dropping.
leaf by leaf, to the groundP When they
have all fallen, and the trees are bare
your dear child will droop and die
Also"
Mrs. Arrol hid her face in her tremb.
ling hands, deep sobs breaking from
her grief stricken heart; she scarcely
needed the doctors kind consolinS
words. How could she be resigned,
when one of her loved children was
slowly fading from her?
She did not notice Artie, with white
troubled face, and wistful eyes, steal
silently out in the garden; and for long
the child walked about, forgetting, in
this new sorrow, the interrupted play
with Carlo, his big cherished dog.
Many times after this, Mrs. Arrol
would look at her little boy in silent
wonder; he was so strangely quiet-so
thoughtful
Slowly, ono by one, the withered
leaves fell to tho ground, each taking