The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1886-03-13
WANTED

Martie Woodbridge-her name was
Martha, but no one called her So
lived on the outskirts of small vii.
lage.
Her father was a farmer, but not a
prosperous one. Nature, with her
frosts and droughts, was always get
ting the upper hand Of him, and the
crops which he raised were sure TO be
those which brought the lowest price
in the market. The canks. worm
stripped his apple trees, and an early
frost blighted the corn and oats. He
had the misfortune to buy cow which
introduced disease into thefarm-yard.
Dreamer, Spotty and Whiteface-the
three cows that always filled their
pals the fullest, and made the most
golden butter-sickened and died.
This was the question which Martie
puzzled over from day to day, coming
at last to the conclusion that she
must try her luck IN the big world
which she had seen so little OF outside
o. her own small village. She would
90 to London, and, if possible, find
there q situation as gOverness, in
which she could at least provide for
her own support.
Her mother left fall few quiet tears
over the plan, and, smiling patiently
through them, said: "Ask your faith
er.
Mr. Woodbridge said mo" at first;
but having lain awake all night over
his difficulties, he called Martie to
him, kissed rsolemnly, gave q weary
sigh and with it his consent.
So it came to pass that on cool,
crisp, October morning, when the
woods were at their brightest autumn
nal flush, and the frost had stitfened
the grass into little silvery blades and
made the few pale flowers that fingered
by the roadside hang their heads,
Martie put on her brave smile, made
hopeful, comforting little speeches,
kissed them all good-by at home-the
dear old home, so full OF joys and
troubles-aud started for London, to
put into that great, hurrying, driving,
iOstling, market the modest wares she
had TO offer
Martie was met the moment she
stepped from the tram by an old friend
OF the family, who had kindly prom
AStNA ~ lCGtINC ltL SNL lltl uOuEt anu 40
what she could to assist her The
next day, early in the morning, a
modest, unpretending little advertise
ment was sent to one OF the daily
newspapers. What a stupendous al
fair it seemed to Martie, and how her
unsophisticated little heart beat at
the thought of it. Nothing could
come OF it that day, however; and
while she goes out with Mrs. Allen to
do little shopping and stare at few
o the city lions, let us take look at
me quarters she has fallen into.
Mrs. Allen kept a small privatelodg.
ing house, very select and very genteel
It's inmates were the learned Prof
Bigwig and family, from whose pres
ence a certain literary aroma was sup
posed to pervade the atmosphere; the
brilliant Col. BOreas, hero-accordine
to his own aCcount-Of numberless
battles; a rising young lawyer, with his
pretty, blushing girl wife, all fresh and
lovely in her new bridal toilet: a rich
widow and her still richer daughter
who, it was said, was soon to become
the helpmateof the clerical member o.
the household, the Rev Paul Appolis
and last, though not least, the repre-
sentative OF the fine arts, Mr.. Raw,
mOnd, an artist, whose pictures had
won golden praises from critics and
connoisseurs and golden praises from
purchasers.
Mr.. Raymond was Nartie's left
hand neighbor at the table With the
first glance at his dark face, iron cray
hair and mustaChe, and deep-set gray
~ g,1
afraid of him. When he smiled sh,
liked him better, and thought the gray
eyes looked kind, and as she felt very
shy and lonesome among all tines,
strange faces, she was glad to have hin
talk a little to her and take care thai
she was provided with all she wanted
On the second morning after her ar
rival in the city Martie's advertise
ment appeared. Mrs. Allen sent a pa
per up TO her room before she was out
OF bed, so that almost as soon as heI
eyes were open she had begun to hone
and 10 be afraid, and 10 wonder If. out
ot 20 many people who she supposed
would come and zee her, one OF then
would thin X well enough OF hertO want
her services.
Aar-fa was very painstakine with
her toilet that morning. She wanted
to look ner best. She spent the usua
time over her w8vy, gold-brown hair
and when she put on her pretty gray
dress-the gray dress wasfor morning
and the black silk iOr afternoon-anc
fastened the dainty. spOtless collar
and cuffs, she dalIied fully FIVE minute.
over her little stock Of ribbons. irwin,
this one ana that, and vent down al
last to breakfast lookin5, to Mr.. Raw
mond's artist eyes, which took her !,
at a glance, ike the Wild rose lust out
OF the thiCEet, with the deUv lnoruir,
brightness trimming in her brown ewes
the pink rose petals in her cheeks. an
soft, warm, shimmering sunbeam.
woven into the rlpples OF ner brown
halr. How his artist fingers lonseG
Tor canvas and colors, to give his De
loved st. Agnes that beautiful hair
But the wild rose might as well nav,
been blooming in her native thickef
IN vain Martle peeped from the front
windows, and held her breath when
the dQorbell rang No one came n
see the gray dress that morning.
The black dress Jared better. Twas
called upon, and Martia went down ia
the parlor with her heart in her mouth.
70 meet the grand lady whose carriage
and dashlDg horses she had watched
rs they drew up in splendid style be-
Tore the house But, alas Mtrlie was