, 1888-11-20

life. -
Before night the storm became so fu-
rious, he snow SO deep, the dressmaker
was urged to remain until the next day,
and to tell the truth she was nothing
loath, for her humble room in the cot
tage of the widow Green was not a very
attractive one, although clean and neat,
yet a rag carpet, paper shades, a cot bed
and a small stove, with scanty food for q
dainty appetite, was all the dressmaker
could earn for herself in the small village
of Fairmount.
Evening, with her sable curtain, en-
folded the snowy earth. The wind
sighed and moaned around the warmly
draped windows of Pleasant Park. The
Laurence family were wealthy and high
born, Mr.. Laurence being from one of
the oldest and proudest families in Bos-
ton, and his wife, the handsome Kate
Carleton before marriage, was of English
birth, with noble blood in her veins, yet
they acknowledged the goodness and
worth of their humble seamstress; and
although she did not join them at the
table, having her meals sent into the sew
ing room, she was invited into the sitting
room when the family met together for
the pleasant chat before bedtime, and in
her modest brown dress, with snowy col
lar and cuffs, her sweet, pale face, soft
voice and charming smile, Miss Chatty
did not look out of place ever in the par
lor of the high born Laurence family.
''Miss Chatty, 1 wish you would tell
me a story. 1 do so like to hear them"
This from Master Johnny, who was
basking on the snow white rug of bear
skin, the glow from the fire lighting up
his curls until they looked like a mass Of
gold, and his round, dimpled face as rosy
as the sunny side of a peach.
"Oh, do, dear Miss Prim, tell us some.
thing nice" exclaimed Lizzie, shutting
up the entertaining fairy book, and com
ing forward to the easy chair wherein
sat the tiny lady, her small hands busy
with some tatting she wished to finish
for Mrs. Laurence.
81 never told a story in all my life,
my dears. hen 1 am afraid, ever if 1
could tell you anything that would in
terest you, l should disturb your father
and mother in their reading"
mot at ALL" they both cried, with all
the courtesy they could have shown a
lady Of wealth, and putting away the
paper and book, they begged her, if she
felt so disposed, TO entertain the children.
81 will go to the smoking room for an
hour or So" said Mr.. Laurence, and
putting on his silk embroidered Jacket
and cap he left the room. Il will finish
this piece of ruffling," Mrs. Laurence
smilingly answered as she turned the gas
higher, and soon her white jeweled fin.
gers were plying the shining needle,
while Miss Prim with a thoughtful coun-
tenance commenced the story of her life.
"a true story, Blossom, and 1 hope it
will interest you, but it is the first time /
have ever spoken of my past, SO you will
forgive me"-turning to the lady of the
mansion-'if 1 shed a few tears over
past joys and SORROWS"
Indeed, Miss Chatty, 1 certainly
would overlook anything in one as
amiable as you are, but do not bring up
memories that will cause you grief. l
will tell the children a fairy tale and you
can go on with your work"
"Oh, no, indeed, not for the world
would l d~isappoint the dear little lambs,
and it will do me good to relate to kind
hearted ones the story of my rather dull
life.
MY father kept the lighthouse. l
had no brothers or sisters, and when at
IA l lost my dear mother, you can i'm
agine how lonely l was. 1t was she who
taught mo TO sew and to cut my own
clothes and dresses, she who taught me
all l know. Mother was a governess be-
fore marriage and was finely educated,
so l became interested in books and
study. l loved the ocean, loved it in all
its moods. When the sky was stormy
and angry waves were crested with
creamy foam, 1 would sit on the rocks
and admire, or when the blue waters
were serene and smooth 1 would take my
Ett1n hnot opl coil on ,fg ,,ofr.o- liz
bosom for hours. Then 1 loved to wan
der on the beach and gather seaweed
II tiny shells. After mother died l
was h~ousekeeper, and helped father in
the care of the lamp, and when he was
sick many and many a night nav L sat
alone tending the great glowing light
that shone like a blood red ruby far out
on the glistening waters. l grieved over
mothers death, but father was so kind, so
tender, he took her place in many re-
spects. So we lived until 1 was II.
Zone night in January-shall l ever
forget that fearful night?-father had the
light burning brightly. We were in the
cheerful kitchen with a great fire in the
stove, plenty of hot water, blankets,
whisky and other things in readiness for
anything that might happen. l was
darning stockings, father was doing in
his easy chair, when the sullen boom,
boom, of guns was heard. The wind
shrieked and howled, rocking the light
house like a cradle. The waves dashed
their spray against the window panes,
and snow blinded and blurred the whole
heavens. Father sprang from his chair,
wide awake in n moment l too, al
though pale and trembling from fright,
for l feared a hundred dangers in such a
tempest, was ready to assist father. He
was n large, strong man, and l, although
small and slight, had considerable
strength and n great deal of courage.
"'Come, my girl cried father, put
ting on his sou'wester and wrapping
himself well up. Come, we must see
assistance we can render. Some
n.nn. nnhlan.. IN .---L 49, e. 1919