The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1886-07-23
LEOLINE.

'On, mOLneF, L WISH we were IICu'
think it is a shame that we are oblig-
cd to live in this little hut, while my
naughty cousin lives in mansion and
wears the diamonds that should have
been mine"
my dear, how can you call this
pretty cottage a hut, and how can you
complain when you are doing so we'll?
Let May wear her diamonds, and
please, dear, for my sake, if for moth
ing else, do try to be contented." "
Florence Arleigh made no reply, but
pressed kiss on her mother forehead
and left the room. .....
As the door closed, Mrs Arleigh
leaned back in her chair and watched
the last rays of the setting sun, while
her thoughts few far away to the home
of her childhood. Her cheek was fan
ned by the soft South wind and no sound
disturbed her musings of by-gone days.
She gazed into the blue sky, where the
clouds floated and foated away in the
distance, but she saw not the clouds,
for her mind pictured the old home,
where her infant footsteps had been
guided by the tender hand of mother.
Then she saw herself, a happy
maiden, in the shady, old forest,
twining a wreath of flowers and crown
ing herself Queen of the Nav. She
smiled as she thought how surprised
she had been tolearn that an artist
had been sketching her while she ad-
dressed the trees as her subjects. How
her young heart had leaped with de-.
light as she saw the admiration express
ed in tho eyes of the stranger Then
she thought how she had been wooed
and won by, the artist and how he had
taken her to the residence of his father.
Then tear after tear fell from her eyes
IS she thought how she and her hus-
band had been turned away from the
home of her father-in-law, and how
her husbands proud sister had said:
when ! marry, shall not disgrace
my family by marrying the child of
poor farmern Oh! the days that fol-
lowed the happy days, in which she
tried to make their cottage pleasant
home for Leon, who worked early and
late TO paint the pictures which brought
enough money to support them. Bit
terly she wept as she thought of the
brilliant June day when death entered.
her home and her brave, handsome
Leon was laid IN the little parlor and
her two children walked on tip-toe say
ing, over and over, Papa issdead, and
mamma is sick. Her reyerie was in
terrupted by sounds of mirth, which
came from the chamber Of the little
cottage which Mr.. Arleigh had been
pleased to viii to his sons widow.
Upstairs is a cozy room in which
Florence and Leoline Arleigh do the
copying by which they earn their bread.
They have been copying, but are not
doing SO now, for LeoliEe is laughing
heartily while Florence stands before
the mirror saying, in tragic tones,
s'Hcw have the mighty falleni And Ar
leigh must earn her bread by the sweat
Of her brow. Where is the poet who
will immortalize the fair face reflected
in yon mirrorP Where are the brave
men who will gaze with admiration mp
on these golden tresses, these azure
eyesp Where are they? Alas they
are here, but they are not the ones in
whose pockets the gold dollars jingle
merEily, for the men whose money
would make them acceptable in my
sight pass my beauty unadorned' and
bow at the shrine of my cousin. y
Leoline leaned back in her chair and
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