Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-01-12

near. She turns to face him, eyes flash
ing, bosom heaving. Clinching her
small hands defantly she demanded
| do you come to whip me?"
He is close to her now and he smiles
answering her in low, soft tones when she
repeats her question: "Oh, no! I would
Lot hurt the pretty Menona, for I love
her!" at the same moment kissing her
smooth cheeks. It seems to burn her!
Turning as if stung by a viper, she lifts
her hand and smites her tormentor's face
He only laughs q hooking laugh and
would fold her in his arms; but great
dread and loathing springs into the
heart of the maiden. One fash of
thought and she filings herself into the
liquid mirror that minute ago reflected
her lovely features.
! Dark seaweeds mingle with the dead
flowers olinging to the long tresses that
those cold fingers will never again
wreathe with blossoms. Down in the
deep water, out of sight, Menona has
fallen asleep, and she slumbers long.
By and by she awakes, and the flowers
in her hair are not dead ones. But the
butterfly, escaped from the cbrysalis
| does not at once realize the change
What is it that strikes upon her quick
| ening senses? Does she hear the wajling
of child? All! the baby, the helpless
/ little creature she will go to it, even
though she must again enter the home
of the cruel people who robbed her and
| brought her to foreign shores.
The baby was crying. Menona, moved
by tenderest pity, put her arms about it.
No one took any notice Of her, nor did
| they ask her to work. She thought it
strange. They did not speak to her or
offer ner food to eat. That mattered
not, for she felt no pangs of hunger
70 and fro she fitted, free as the air,
while the days glided by leaving no wear
mess clinging to Memorials feet. She
loved the white baby now. When its pite-
Gus cries broke upon the stiffness of the
night she would lulI it to sleep, singing
sweet melodies soft and low.
Then the color fled from the cheeks of
father and mother, they were afraid, and
IN awe struck whispers murmured the
name of Meuona. She could not under
stand why they did not like to see her.
Had they not brought her there? Many
night she rocked the babe in her arms
and it was happy. But the young moth
er grew thin and pale, and the brave
soldiers hair was turning white, because
they saw Menona there. Though they
never spoke to her she always smiled at
them, and wondered what made them
look so wan.
BY and by the baby began to droop.
Menona would fain have made it well,
but could only soothe it with her plaintive
lullaby. For few days the little life flick
cred, then went out. The fraiI blossom
closed its petals when the moon was shed
ding its silvery light upon the ripping
waters that had sheltered the Flower
Princess. She, with her finger tips, light
ty touched the fluttering eyelids, the white
curtains of those tender blue 'lights,"
forever shutting out the look of pain;
and the baby, smiling, futtered from its
coil OF clay into Memorials arms.
The grief stricken parents wrUng their
hands and moaned: "Menona has taken
cur child" but it was not so, had only re-
ceived it.
Soon the bereaved ones said that their
home was haunted; they could live there
no longer. So the sad faced woman and
the man whose curly locks had become
as white as the driven snow, went far off
to seek another place of abode. Then a
lovely being, clothed in light and happi
ness, took Menona by the hand and led
her away, saying; "Come with me. Thou
shalt learn thy mission here; to minister
to those bowed down with grief, to wipe
away their tears. whispering words of
comfort. They shall hear thee and their
hearts be lightened. Upward this work
will lead thee, and angels guide thee o."
Alice d. LIE Plongeon in Home Journal.