The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1886-08-18
INTERESTING STORY.
A JULY ROMANCE.

a book he was illustrating, and 1 had been
doing some very amateurish groups of cattle
and trees.
Poor Arnold i All through the long, hot
morning, as we worked steadily with our
pencils, had tried to cheer him, to lift
some of the heavy veil of gloom that for
three long years had clouded his handsome
face, true index of his sorrowing heart He
was my brother-in-law, Arnold Harrington
who ten years before, when was mite Of
eight years old, had married my sister Hat
tie, and taken her to New York. For sever
years life seemed to be all sunshine with
them. Then came the tragedy that had left
Arnold heart-broken, and had called my
parents and myself hurriedly home from
Europe, where was in German school,
while they travelled.
| Our home was within three miles of Tarry-
town, lovely country seat, and Arnold
came often in the intervals of business tc
make us long or short visits, as time permit
ed. He was not poor man, but he loved
dis art, and was only contented when hii
pencil was busy.
He had left me, on that hot July day, still
touching up my cows, and gone forward for
glimpse of the Hudson, half mile further
on; and l, looking up, saw coming toward
me a child. I was just at that time an
enthusiast over the picturesque, and the
child fascinated me. Dirty, ragged, bare
footed, and carrying basket of wild rasp.
berries, was sure she was one of colony
Of poor people whose miserable houses were
blot on the beauty of the neighborhood.
But she was beautiful; her dirty face was
delicate in feature, and lighted by large,
soft, brown eyes, and the tangle of curling
hair was purest gold in tint Daintily
moulded arms and legs ended in small, most
exqnisitely fashioned hands and feet, and
the little figure was perfect in every out
line.
As earnestly as looked at her she
returned my gaze, her eyes drinking in
every detail of my sketching apparatus, and
scanning the picture on the easel.
Little girl" said, "if you will stand
still, just as you are, few minutes, will
give you fifty cents"
She nodded assent and, as arranged q
fresh board upon the easel, fell into a
pose" all ghcs and beauty, her tiny
hands crossed over the shabby basket, and
her ragged straw hat pushed back on hes
tangled curls. As motionless as if carved
in stone, she stood while 1 rapidly sketched
her, wishing Arnold would return and do
Justice to such charming model.
But looking up, while still working
busily, saw large tears falling down the
child's face, and fall of self-reproach, l
said:
Il have tired you too much, and you are
so patient"
:" am not very tired" she answered !;
"but l feel bad oh, 30 very bad |"
see what is left in my luncheon basket"
She came quite eagerly, and took sand.
witch and piece of cake with evident pleas.
| ure.
" am hungry" she said. Z" l have beer
all the morning gathering wild raspberries
Tor Grannie to sell. But it is not that was
crying about. II her lips quivered again
-" used TO stand so for papa to make
| pictures, and mamma dressed me in oil
kinds of pretty things for him to paint"
g Your father is an artist, thenp Where
does he live ?" asked.
" don't know, ma'am."
i" Is he dead 2"
/" don't know. Oh, papa mamma |"
she cried. Oh what shall dop ! feel
| so lost"
took her in my arms, dirt and all, and
tried to comfort her. My own heart seemed
had sobbed herself quiet
How is it you do not know whether
your papa is dead Or not, dear ~
He went away" she answered; but
he was coming back again. We were board
ing, but it was summer time, and everybody
else had gone to the country; but mamma
was sick and could not go. We always went
with papa everywhere when she was we'll,
but she was too sick, and he had TO go.
Then mamma got sicker and sicker and
one day she would not speak to me, nor
open her eyes, and Mrs. Rogers said she had
gone to Heaven. was hitler than I am
now, but knew she was dead. Some mel
came and took her away in coffin and
then Mrs. Rogers packed up all her clothes
and all the pretty shining things she used
to wear, and everything in the house was
put on some carts, and she said we were oil
going to the country. / cried and cried,
because was afraid papa would not find
me when he came back, but Mrs. Rogers
promised to write letter. Then we came
On the cars, and she got out with me and
walked long time, and was tired and
went to sleep. When I woke up IL WAS darl
and was on the ground, and Mrs. Rogers
had gone away. / was so frightened l
ran and cried, and nobody came. When
the light came / had ON an old patched
dress, and all my own pretty clothes were
gone My feet were all bloody too, and
hurt me, because Mrs. Rogers had taken my
shoes and stockings. But Grannie found
me-"
My heart sank.
Who is Grannie 7" / asked.
"She is the old woman that found me
She says her name is Grannie, and she i
awful good to me. She hasn't got an,
money, like my own papa and mamma, ant
she don't give me pretty clothes, but sh
kisses me and loves me, and takes care O
me. And sew and knit and help her, ant
In summer I get berries--and" Here tn
child started from my arms, her face whit,
as death, her large eyes dilated, fixed upor
something behind me, her lips parted il
quick, gasping breaths, till with cry of
Papa Papa !" she sprang from me for
ward, and turned to see her flying to meet
Arnold.
I had been almost sure, before, that the
terrible mystery we had vainly tried to pene-
srate was solved at last, but there could be
10 doubt any longer. My brother-in-law
vas on his knees on the ground, holding the
child close to his heart, kissing her dirty
little face, and fairly sobbings
daisy Daisy! My own little daugh
ter ~