The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1886-11-04

kneelS beside her. JeSsamlne bends her
head and the child puts a hot hand on
her cheek, gravely announcing, you're
pretty" Then, as if recognizing the
mother touch of the arms about her,
nest.es closer, throws back her head
and with a long, tired sigh closes the
blue eyes. heavy with fever and tears,
and while they silently watch falls into
q quiet sleep.
IDS this dear little girl yoursP" Mrz.
Eliot whispers. ..My child, not my
daughter. Besides me she has only one
friend in tie world"
s.Poor, little darling" Jessamine
murmurs softly. Mamma, isn't she
the sweetest little thing you ever saw?'
IAN o~rphanP" Mrs. Farnham asks.
''Yes-her father was drowned the day
before she was born-she and her
mother have lived on my canal-boat ever
since. More than two months ago her
mother asked me if I would take care
of Hedeyetta-she called herself that,
she couldn't say Henrietta-if any thing
happened to her. l said I would, aud
she went right to work and fixed up the
child's clothes all neat and tidy, and the
first dark night she wrapped herself in
a shawl and jumped overheard. She
couldn't help it, ma'am," he apollo
gizes,, answering the look of contempt
on Mrs. Farnham's face, .'she fought it
for years-she got old, and hard and
haggard-looking when she should have
still been fresh and pretty-justl longing
for her husband-and at last it got too
much for her to stand, and she went to
him. If you could have seen how young
and happy she looked when we found
her" Sudden tears of comprehension
and sympathy I'LL Mrs. Eliot's eyes,
and Jessamine's hand seeks hers low
ingly:
no, she didn't grieve, but she sort of
missed the care, l expect. I tried, and
SO did the woman. who did the work for
Kathleen, to look after her, but she sat
up late nights and ran about every
where; and even before we laid up she
was this way, sc at last I got worried
and brought her down here to see if
you could cure her up-but no, she
won't stay
Nonsense" Mrs. Farnham says
briskly, ..you 60 and leave her here
that is if there is a vacancy for her
and she will be all rightin a few.days,"
but, as if she had heard, the child means
in her sleep. and the man shakes his
head.
Mamma" the kneeling girl inter-
poses softly, ''mayI have her for a little
sister? Think of our big, empty house
and how delighted Susan will be to see
the crib slept in again and the nursery
open. If this gentleman will trust her
to us won't you take her?"
"Why,. Semany, you must be crazy"
Emma Farnham eXclaims; ''think what
a care and nuisance she would be"
and, '.Nonsense, my dear child, you
must be crazy" Mrs. Farnham adds de-
cisively, but the mother hesitates and
looks down into the beautiful, soft, up
turned brown eyes. Very little that
Mamma" can give has this sweet one
daughter been refused. Jessamine
stoops lower and lays her cheek against
the hot little head. The child stirs in
her sleep, throws out her arm and then
clasps it drowsily about the pretty white
neck. "May VIC take care of her for
you; she shall be like our ownp" Mrs.
Eliot asks, and the faithful friend of all
Hedeyetta's little life takes a long, keen
look into both faces. draws a deep
breath of pain and huskily answers
Eyes"
n \ y =
1t is Thursday of the Artists Exhibi-
ton week in Philadelphia, and quite a
futter of excitement runs through the
gay world at something new to do and
see. The academy wear a holiday air
and small groups of pretty girls and at
tendant squires are constantly disap-
pearing behind its doors. Inside, even
the stairs are crowded, for the music is
more than ordinarily good, and Jessa-
mine Eliot is wandering slowly through
an inner room, stopping before one
picture after another, listening dreamily
to the soft strains of music, thoroughly
happy, as her lovely face shows. Her
mother follows at a little distance talk
ing quietly to an old friend, and in
another part of the room Emma Farm
ham is making the moments fly swiftly
for three much amused men. A group
of people are just turning from a picture
with EXPLANATIONS of delight, sex
quisite! the gem of the collection!' and
Jessamine hears and stops.
1t is not a large canvass, but every
detail is perfect and so exquisitely
painted that it is instinct with life. You
can feel the hot sun pouring down
upon a light graceful bridge spanning
adark, muddy canal, upon a dingy
boat that seems to slowly move upon
the two sun-kissed children on the
bridge, tossing flowers, daisies and but
tercups, arms full of them-to a little
b~lue-eyed, gold-haired, barefoot
maid below, who stands with dangling
sun-bonnet, outheld skirts and eager,
up-turned face, glad recipient of their
bounty. The old, wide-spleading trees
lend their welcome shade, the mules lag
unrebuked, their lolling driver turning
to look back. A look of amazed WON
der chases the admiration from Jessa-
mines face, her lips part-at that mo-
ment the rest of the party come up,
and from Mrs. Eliot and Emma burst
simultaneously the one word sHede-
yetta!"
"How very, very strange, and a
canal-boat, too-it must be-where is
the catalogueP who painted it?" Emma
demands, eagerly; but Jessamine needs
no catalogue. In a corner she has seen,
not for the first time, a sketchy name,
and
''Mrs. Eliot, will you permit me to
present to you an eminent artist, who is
also the son of an old friendp You have
not forgotten Mary Wood? This is her
son, Egbert Viele, the creator of the
charming scene before you" Before
Jessamine can turn or Mrs. Eliot speak
a sudden diversion occurs. Across the
Don like a streak of lightning, from
her old nurses side, where she had been
in raptures over ''some darling little
dogs" flashes a little white figure and
precipitates itself upon Egbert. "Mr.
BERTHE! Mr.. BERTHE! my own Mr.. BERTHE!
Oh, where have you been so long?"
Egbert Viele is quite forgiven bythose
about him that, ignoring all else, he
stoops and clasps the excited, half-sob-
bling child with equal warmth to his
heart. The little rings of hair are soft
curls; the round, dimpled arms and legs
are slender and covered; the sun flush