The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1885-04-02
body else, 20 abe tried to explain th;.

verse.
She said she WAS aOh, 20 happy"
She loved her little chamber where she
could be all stills; she loved 70 have
the white moon look in 20 kindly up.
ON her ct night, and she felt it would be
good to die there all still and white. {"
III the spring, however. z change
came over our HclonOre. Her deep
content gave place gradually 20 . strange
festlessness; She was no longer the
faithful, attentive little handmade 1
had learned to 1o1s ind trust: She
seemed to be irresistibiy d1swn away
from all her indoor occupstion.
If bird sang. near the house,
che would drop her work and
run eagerly to the window, as
il she heard her own name called; if
khe ~efs sent down town on IN GRAND,
she was utnsceountably long in return
ing; and finally, One afternoon when
she took little Ned out for his accus-
toned airing, she was gone for hours,
wandering across the fields, and bring
ing him home at dusk lying back fast
asleep in his carriage, with wreath OF
violets like q halo round his golden
head; aha MORE elutched tightly in his
chubby hand.
She received my surprised reproof in
sullen silence, and I waited in vain 1e1
some account of her absence.
She grew more and more strange and
restless every day, fretting and chatting
over her light tasks like some Gagged
animal, until finally I questioned her.
"Helenorc, said I, kindly, what is
il that ails you? Tell me, and I will
try to help you"
At first she frowned darkly and would
hot answer; but when I laid my hand
gently and eoaxingly upon her head
had noticed she loved to have me do 80
she yielded and her tongue was
lbosed.:
"6h, redam, do not be angryw she
cried. ave have gypsy blood in us,
mine moder do say-and oh, would be
goin'!"- stretching out her arms toward
the distant fields with swift and elo-
quent gesture of longing: "Oh, let me
60! I must got"
was botff checked and disappointed,
and told her so ard tried to reason
with her.
"Where would you gol" I asked.
"There are no gypsies near that you
could join, and you would soon starve
and die alone; and besides, how can you
leave poor baby and me? Do you not
love us, Helenore?"
"Oh, I do! Idol" she cried, passion
ately, throwing herself down upon the
floor; land I do try not to hear them
call. 1 put mine fingers in mine ears,
but I hear them just the same!"
"Who calls you, Helenore?" asked.
"AH Things out O -door-the birds and
bees and the winds: They call me al
ways, always. They say 'Helenore,
Helenore, come? And I must gop she
cried, sprireing to her feet and looking
wildly around.
feared she was losing her mind, 6nd
was much alarmed about her. We tried
to divert and amuse her in every way
possible, and for few days she really
seemed to be more quiet.
But one morning we missed her: The
afternoon previous, a hand-organ grind.
or and a woman, evidently his wife, en-
tered our grounds, and Helenore went
out to hear them play; and we noticed
that she stood conversing with them in
her own language for some time after
ward.
They had been hanging about the
neighborhood for several days, and
somehow we felt sure that she had gone
with them. Our suspicious were con-
6rmed by farmer living mile or so
above us, who said he met them just at
dusk, as he was returning home from
Helenore. He said he recognized Hell
enore at once and spoke to her, but she
made no answer.
We learned, furthermore, from her
mother that an organ grinder and his
wife-old acquaintances of the family
had been in the vicinity for a week past
and had put up night or two at her
own house, and she doubted not that
they were the same persons we had in
mind. She made light Of her daughters
disappearance, saving, with q shrug of
her fat shoulders, that, "she would be
back soon enough" and seeming to
think that in any case we were well rid
of her.
But we missed her and We mourned
her, and I did not try to fill her place.
Ny "very latest" as Jack still called
her, seemed to have proved sad fail
ure.
Twas lingering in my rose garden in
the twilight OF warm September day,
hanging fondly over led of pet n.y.
brids-latest and sweetest of roses
when I suddenly missed little Ned from
my side, and, looking around for him, I
spied him swinging on the front gate.
Istarted to go toward him, and at that
moment the figure of woman sprang
up, as it were, out of the ground near
him, and at the same time I heard q
cry from Ned:
"Helenore! Helenore!"
It Is our Helenore. She caught him
to her breast and flew swift as the wind
across the lawn to meet me, and, drop
ping on her knees, with one arm still
around the bewildered child, she chung
to mo desperately, sobbing and groan :
ing, but not one word did she speak.
I begged her to rise, but she would
not; 80 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 we'll.
At last she heaved long, tremulous
sigh and lifted her face to mine.
II cannot ask You to forgery" sh<