The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1886-02-04

voice. "Why, you have no gloves on!
How cold your hands are! A small
bunch of icicles. Here, run away and
hay yourself pair of mittens if you
have none," and she slips coin into
the child's hand, and continues on her
| way.
The little homeless one stops under
| the first lamp-post to examine her treas
ure "a half dollarr' she exclaims,
and the weary little heart gives great
| bound of Joy. She again runs, and this
time her speed is checked in grocery
| store, where she invests all but cents
| of the so in tea, bread, and sugar. On
| regaining the street she halls a car. and
| curling herself up on the corner on a
bench looks with wide, waking, thought
full eyes on the frozen window opposite.
This is as far as we CO." announces
| the conductor, after long, tedious
ride, and the little figure again struggles
in the snow, hugging the small parcels
| close to her breast.
Nothing but snow! Great white
fields of snow, though the city behind
| and the heavens above are cleaning
| with thousands of lights.
Stiller and colder the night grows,
l
through the white, vast stiffness of the
night.
The large, dark eyes at length spy an
apparently long-sought for light ahead.
| She soon reaches the structure from
which it CLEANS, and opening the door
without a key, she enters and seeks her
way up dark flight of stairs. The
great bright eyes of rats peeping out of
their holes do not frighten her. go
away you," she says, chidingly, as if
surprised at their boldness in confront
ing her. Rapping lightly at door at
/ the head of the stairs, or more properly
speaking. ladder, she gains admittance.
.1've got something to eat, papa"
she says cheerfully, holding her hands
to small stove emitting considerable
warmth.
Something to eat," he repeats,
eagerly, and grasps the cold hands In
his own and chafes them gently.
81 have been watching for you my
| Pearl, and / was fearful that the winds
had dug your grave and the snow filled it.
But you have come back, my Pearl, y
and the white long hair of the old man
mingles with the black locks of the
| child, and he kisses her often and ten
derly, as if they had been separated for
term of years.
| Here, Pearl! see here! l have per-
fected my discovery; the secret of per-
petual motion is oursr and the long
white fingers pointed to sheet of brown
wrapping paper on the table, covered
with angles, squares, and all manner of
shapes and curves, which, in their in
tricacy, formed no definite outline OF
any kind.
'Yes, papa; we will talk it over after
we have had something to eat" and she
unclasps his arm from about her waist
and prepares the tea.
"How did you earn the money!" he
asks, fondly.
II did not earn it, papa. A young
lady gave it to me-"
| A shadow passed over her face as she
replied, and the bright keen eye of the
father observed it.
Come here, my Pearl" he says,
gravely, and draws the light on the
table by his side nearer to him.
She laid the bread she had been cut
ting on a cracked plate, which she
placed on napkin in the center of the
table, then turned her face to him.
He took it between his hands, and
looked anxiously into the eyes of his
child.
They have been rough to you, my
Pearl. Come rest your head on my
breast and cry. see the tears in your
heart. My sweet flower, have leant
on you till the slender stem is ready to
break. But l may yet be able to use
my limbs. So cheer up, my precious
Pearl. But let us drink the tea. 1t
smells good after we have had nothing
but warm water for days and days"
| Hand me my medicine chest, my
| Pearl We must both take some medi-
cine to make us stronger and cheer our
spirits
She smiles through her tears, and
places a small paper box beside him on
the table.
Brushing his hair from his face, she
draws the table closer to the stove,
moves his chair nearer the table, and
seating herself, podrs out the tea.
'1t tastes good, papa" she says,
touching it daintily to her lips, and
then takes long draught as if to en-
phasize her words.
THAT is right, Pearl. Drink and en-
| joy it"
He drained the tea in his cup at q
draught, and when she refilled their
cups said: "Let me put some medi-
cine in this, my Pearl, so that we will
grow stronger. Perpetual motion and
perpetual life-two grand discoveries;
they ought to bring me fame and fort
une."
perhaps they will yet, papa They
have book in the city, as you told me,
in which they have all the names of the
great people who live in Chicago. They
call it Directory, SO if you could re-
member the names of some of the doc
tors and mathematicians you used to
know / can find out where they live in
that book and tell them all you have
discovered"
"They would not believe it, my
Pearl"
''But, papa, l would explain it all to
them just as you do to me. would tell
them that the philosophy of perpetual
motion is plainly demonstrated"
'Do not speak of it now, my child.
We will rest for time. / was SO fear
ful lest evil should befall you when you
left me this morning that / worked
| without ceasing to quiet my anxiety.
Later in the evening we will discuss
the latest phase of our intricate labors,
but now when you have had enough to
eat you can move your chair close to
mine and sing to me some song like you
used to do when you were only child
| But l am child no longer, papa.
am almost woman. Twill be IA years
old next week"
She sits down beside him and leans
her head on his shoulder. He strokes
her soft hair gently till it looks glossy
and smooth. Her heavy eyelids quiver
as she endeavors to resist the desire to
sleep.
| ''Sleep, sleep, my Pearl. You require
rest"
She puts her arm about his neck and
kisses him. He draws her close to him
l with on. own, or,I xrith the o+bor /, ~