The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1885-03-13
SELECT STORY.
JOHNS DAUGHTER.

VIII not let the llltle one suHSf
Ny old friend and college chnm,
John Harmon said this rs he wrung
my hand hard repeated my promise
that in my own homenest, when there
was a nursery full of little ones, Susie
Harmon should hold n daughters
place.
We were standing upon the wharf
waiting for the signal that it was time
for my friend to wcp aboard an outgo-
ing California steamer He had lost
his wife within the year, and soon af-
ter was beggaied by fire that totally
destroyed the cotton mills in which he
had held the position of superintend-
ent for ten years. With his home dcs-
oate, his purse empty, he resolved, as
many man had done before him, to
seek his fortune in the modern Ell Do
RADIO, and dig for gold in her mines.
The only drawback to this scheme
was the difficulty of taking his three
year.old daughter, who had been in the
care of hired nurses since her mother
died /, who shared every thought of
Johns mind, talked with my wife, and
found her eagerly willing to take care
| of the little one.
II am sure | loved Mary as well rs
YOU loved john" she said, "and there
is no one can have stronger claim upon
| the child than we have.
So, sure of her cordial welcome in
our nursery, made John the offer of
home for his little one, aud it was ac-
cepted as lovingly as it was offered.
This care removed, my friend hasteued
his preparations for departure, and |
accompanied him to New York and
raw him off.
The next morning | returned home
10 find Susie almost inconsolable. cry
ing perpetually for papa to come TO
Susie"
NY wife was distracted at the fail
ure to comfort this childish sorrow,
and our own three children looked on
wouderingly at -
Naughty Susie, who cried and cried
after mamma told her to be quiet
Fortunately, Susie was accustomed
to see me, to siSuggle in my arms when
l talked with John, TO associate me
with her father, and she allowed me t.
comfort her. In this time violent griei
wore away, and the child became very
happy in our care. Nv business, that
of hardware merchant, being very
prosperous, we did not feel the addi
tional expense Of the child's support q
burden and as the years wore by, sbt
was as dear to us as our own little
ones.
But she understood always that sht
was not our child, but had dear faith
er who loved her fondly, and was away
from her only to make fortune fol
her. As soon as she was old enough
she had her fathers letters read to her
and her first efforts at penmanshil
were letters to ''Papa."
Johu wrote often for ten years, re
counting his varying success, some
times sending money to buy presents
for Susie. He was winning fortune
slowly, not at the mines, where hi'
health broke down, but in the employ
of San Francisco merchant, and som,
speculations in real estate.
He was not a rich man, he wrote, af
ter an absence of ten years, but pros
pering when he purposed paying us {
visit. He wrote hopefully of seeing
his child, perhaps of taking her homt
with him, setting no definite time, hut
leading us to expect soon to see him
Then his letters ceased, and he did moi
come. wrote again and again, Snsit
wrote. No answers came to either ont
or the other. We did not know the
name of his employer, and after nearly
two years more passed wesadly thought
he must be dead.
1t might have seemed to many un
natural for Susie to grieve 80 deeply
as she did for father almost unknown
to her in reality, but she was a girl OF
most sensitive feelings, with tender
loving heart, and we had algays kept
her fathers name before her, striving
to win him place in her fondest atfec'
tion. That we succeeded only toe
well was shown by her sorrow, when
week after week passed, and there was
no good news from California.
| When we had really lost all hope, il
became Susie's great pleasure to sit be-
side me and ask me again and again
for the stories | remembered of her
fathers boyhood and youth, his college
life, our many excursions, and, above
all, Of his marriage and the gentle wife
aud mother 80 early called to heaven.
She dearly loved those talks, aud no
memories were more prec-
ious than my description of her fathers
pain in parting from her, and his desire
to win money in California only for
| her.
Time softened Susie's grief, and at
eighteen she was one of the sweetest,
most winning girls / ever saw. With.
out being a wonder of erudition, she
was we'll educated, had fair musical
talent and a sweet, well-cultivated
voice. She was tall and graceful, and
when introduced to society with Joan
ma, my handsome, brunette daughter,
both became popular,
Albert and Win, my boys, were old
er than the girls; Albert in business
with me, and Will at college, the win
ter when Joanna and Susie made their
| debut.
1t would take me quite too long to
tell of the pleasures OF the young folks
during this Writer, but Joanna was
won from us by Cuban gentleman,
and Susie became, if possible, dearer
than ever.
Spring had come, when one evening
Albert came into my library, where
was ploddiug over book, having
worked busily all day. He fused
about the books in nervous way
quite unlike his usual quiet manner and
finally said :
"Father, you have often said Susie is
as dear to you as enc of yonr own chill
dren."
| | looked up amazed at this opening
speech.
"Well T. | asked
"Will You make her your daughter
in fact by giving her to me for {
wife p
\ nanr Jaa, ~, tbink I had haar