Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1885-03-05
Baby's Secret.

Niha uear, won't you come and
play with me?" and little Arthu:
gazed up wisfully into the delicate,
dreamy face of his sister.
Nina turned slowly in her big cush-
ioned chair, smile of intense sorrow
breaking over her pallld lips.
care You tired of playing alone,
baby2" she asked softly, laying her
small thin hand tenderly on his gold
On curls
"Oh, SO tiredl when will you be
able to play with me again in the gar
den? You used to be so gay; now you
are always sad, and sitting in here
alone" reproachfully.
A few tears trickled down the little
girls pale cheeks, and she heaved a
deep sigh.
"Poor Artie! l wish l could run
about as used. 1t makes me very
unhappy to think of those bright days,
when we ran so joyfuily amongst the
pretty flowers, chasing the bluewinged
butterfly, or when tired, resting be-
meath some shady tree, watching the
tiny birds fly from branch to branch,
singing so sweetly. Will that time
ever come again, wonder!"
Artie listened in silence to his sis
ter's words, scarcely grasping thei:
meaning, 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.
"Shall you be i'll long?' he asked in
his sweet childish voice, his innocent
blue eyes raised questioningly to hers.
81 do not know. baby dear !
think soon the pain will leave me, ,
earnestly.
"Then we shall be able to play to-
gether in the garden again?' a ray OF
hope filing his mind.
Nina smiled sorrowfully, and her
eyes wandered towards the pleasant
scene stretching before the open win
dow.
"Summer will soon be over, Artie,
and in the autumn there are no flowers
to cut, or butterflies to chase; even the
birds leave US then for SUMMER lands"
Artie's bright look faded, and his
rosy lips took doleful curve.
"Dr. Cliff is very naughty, Nina
not to make you well. Why does he
come here every day if he does not
cure your"
Nina's answer was interrupted by
the entrance OF Mrs. Arrol, to whom
Artie run with outstretched arms.
"What is it, baby-what has hurt
you?" she asked tenderly, 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, bitter pang to her heart.
"Poor Artie! Well he cannot want
you more than l; he must have patti
ence for little while. Soon you will
be as strong and we'll as ever" she
said hopefully, feeling far from be
lieving the words she used to soothe
the boys grief.
Pr She had thrown for some time the
fatal truth; 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 summer
eve, when Nina, after long run with
Artie, had quietly tainted away.
Since then she had grown gradually
weaker; unable to play with her broth
er; too weary for anything but rest,
day after day, in her large chair,
drawn close to the easement from
which she could see the dear old gar
den, where Artie roamed in moody
solitude.
The days passed swiftly by, and still
Nina grew more fragile; and one
morning Artle, suddenly entering the
house, saw Mr. 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 me?" Mrs. Arrol
asked pleadingly.
The doctor shook his head then
pointing through the open door, said
gravely:
"Do you see yonder trees-the once
green foliage yellow, and dropping,
leaf by leaf,to the ground? 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
trembling, hands, deep sobs breaking
from her grief stricken heart; she
scarcely needed the doctors kind con-
soling words. How could she be re-
signed, when one of her loved chill
dren was slowly fading from her2
She did not notice Artia, with white
troubled, and wistful eyes, steal 81
lently out in the garden; and for
long the child walked about, forget
ting, in this new sorrow, the inter
rupted play with Carlo, his big cher
ished dog.
Many times after this, Mrs. Arrol
would look at her little boy in silent
wonder; he was so strangely quiet
thnuphtfnl.