The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-01-10

Slue all nlRnI, as sne 01Qs m A&Ck, every following night until the last. She was quite cast down for several days after she came, and when not at her Ather's side walked about the camp with bowed head and a pitiful woe-stricken look upon her sweet little gypsy face. But the doctor spoke more hopefully of Wilson's case, and she gradually bnghtepcd up as she became accustomed to his deathly pale ness, and saw that he apparently grew no worse. The captains wife came for her every morning and kept her at the house all the forenoons, that the sorrowing little thing might obtain the sleep she so much needed. She also helped Nixie to pre- pare many tempting dishes for the con- sumptive's weak and failing appetite. She never left her father at night. knew she was afraid he would die alone. Sometimes during our long night watches she would come out and sit by our fire, drinking coffee, or talking with me in her droll, womanly way for half an hour at a time, pausing occasionally to look in at her father. One night she had been sit- ting opposite me by the fire, her head buried in her lap on her folded arms, so long that thought she was asleep as stood gazing steadily at her little form, and wondering what the future of such a child could be, when she raised her head suddenly, her eyes meeting and holding mine as she asked with unhinching di- rectness:
 "Will he die?" holding toward the hospital door.
 "l hope not, Nixie."
 "That's what they all say," she cried irritably, her eyes glistening in the fire light with unshed tears. "They all talk so to me! They hope not, and trust not, and lie to me, as if l was 6a6y! What do they say to you, or to each other when l am not in hearing? What does the doctor say? Tell mep
 l couldn't look the sharp little thing in the eyes and speak the falsehood the others were telling her. told her the truth. She rubbed the tears back 6ercely for few minutes and her breast heaved convulsively, but after awhile she spoke in her usual firm, confident tones, saying: Well, now l know what to expect"
 "I am sincerely sorry for you, Nixie," said.
 "l believe you think you are, Mir. Guard, but you ain't," she replied, re. posing her head again on her arms.
 "Why, Nixie Indeed, amp I as- serted earnestly.
 "Oh, they all say that, too," she said raising her head, and scornfully con- tinuing: "They feel for me SO much, and they pity me, and are 50 awfully sorry, that they pray for me, and one wo- man offered me good home if I'd come and 'nuss for her, the nasty old she-crackerv
 They mean we'll by"
 No, they don't! !" she struck in. "They think am poor, helpless little thing and they'd make a Digger of me. That's it S'pose one ofthose hoodlums who is so sorry for me was to find a bag of gold-dust in papa's pocket after he was dead, would he bring it to me? Would he keep it, or hand it over to the pore,' lonely, destitute, helpless little girl he is so sorry for? Say!"
 He would give it to you, hope, Nixie," replied, but thought it scarcely probable that she would ever behold the money. Her deep, original, unchildlike reasoning was too much for me.
 "I like you, Mir. Guard" she said presently with cheerful directness.
 "I am glad to hear you say that, Nixie, for like you very much"
 "Oh, everybody takes a fancy to me- she replied caielessly. "Every old wo- man on the train from California to New Orleans wanted to take care of me, as if I couldn't travel Aaf far alone," con- 
 "You didn't come SO far all alone ?" I cried in surprise.
 "l just did, Mir. Guard. Who was to come with me?"
 "Your Uncle Louis, perhaps; you were living with him."
 "Oh, he's skipped out l" she replied smiling. "He went through the express, and had to pull out, but it paid 6igp'
 lgazed at her in speechless surprise. In fact was so demoralized by her care less familiarity with crime that forgot the summary manner in wich MT. Wilson had disposed of the other members of his 1 flock beside this little eve lamb, and said: "Your mother"