Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-12-26
HOW MARGERY WENT HOME.
BY MRS. S. NJ. RILEY.

- ~ ShES LII 1RAA" ~ ~ L1@
whip as the stage drew up before the inn
of the little village in which was to spend
the next year of my life.
How distinctly every incident of that
evening comes up before me! 1t was my
first experience of BEING among strangers,
and although our old doctors words,
eff you persist In staying another
year In this climate / will not answer for
your life, kept ringing In my ears, | would
give everything to be at home once more
In my native town.
The motherly looking landlady pressed a
Il kiss upon my tear-stained face and then
showed me my DOM cosy, old-fashiOned
bedroom, such as would at my other
time have delighted my heart. The
supper bell rang, but it was impossible to
eat with such a lump In ones throat, so |
still stood at the window gazing at the
almost deserted street.
The sun set It's last ray over the noun
tain, drowsy tinkle of cow bells echoed
through the air, when suddenly my atten-
ton was attracted by an unusual commo-
ton In the street below. A crowd of bows
were following In the wake of such a fan
tastic looking creature. She was tall and
straight as an Indian, with great masses
of black hair falling unconfined over her
oLOklIiACIGs IICl SlOILlllE was OAtl dS WdS
commonly worn by the villagers, but she
walked with the air of a princess, and the
flowers that adorned her person added a
look Of weird magniicence. On her head
was a crown made of the brilliant sumac
leaves, and a brooch of the mountain ash
berries famed at her throat.
As the crowd drew nearer, a pathetic
voice could be heard above the laughing of
the boys:
Don't make so much noise, it hurts my
head, and. | cannot hear if he Is COM
ing. Listen, don't you hear the sound
of wheels? Surely, oh, surely he will come
soon
There was something so sorrowfuI in the
voice that my eyes filled with tears, and
all my W troubles were forgotten when
a rap summoned me to the door.
1t was the landlady, bearing a tray on
which was spread so dainty a supper that
the very sight revived me, and when she
said: Come child you must eat some
thing if you mean to be mistress In our
old red school-house" and no second invi-
Eation was necessary. She added with a
sigh: 1.-The children nowadays are so
thoughtless. Did you see how they were
teasing the poor creature who passed here
a little while ago?"
Here was my opportunity, and my fork
was laid down preparatory to asking ques-
tions, when she seemed to read my
thoughts, for she said hastily: Eat your
supper before it becomes cold, and | will
tell YOU all about her.
Poor Margery. She never seemed to
have half a chance In this world. Her
father was n handsome, good for nothing
fellow, who spent his time between hunt
ing IN the mountains and guiding at the
tavern. so no one was surprised when he
was carried home one evening with a
great black hole in his breast. Perhaps |
should said no one but his wife, for poor
thing, she never lost faith In him, but
when she saw that hope had gone, she
ioosened her feeble grasp on life, kissed
hel black-eyed baby and closed her eyes
forever.
LIT was quite a question among us what
should be done with Margery, as we knew
nothing of her relatives, but we all hated
to send the pretty baby to the poorhouse.
Quite a number of us finally agreed to pay
a certain sum toward her support until she
reached an age when she could care for
herself, but we found it no easy task to
ind a suitable person who was willing to
be burdened with the care of so small a
child. Mrs. Hart, a widow having sever
~ Ill GtllluGel Oh uGI OWl, ulldIlN dSI1eu 10
take charge of her, and we knew that she
would be with those who would at least
he kind to her. As she grew older her
mothers sensitive nature showed itself,
and the other children, installing this for
a feeling of pride, did all In their power to
render the child's life miserable.
Il shall never forget the look on her
childish face, when, upon passing our
house one of the school children said
tauntingly: I'm sure Id like to know
what you've got to be proud of, you don't
belong to nobody, and have no home of
your own The child was called into the
house and we did all in our power to COM
fort her, but she kept repeating: It's true,
true: have no home, nobody to love me,
and | can't see why God ever put me In
this world
Mrs. Hart died upon Margery's four
teenth birthday, and | was so set upon tax
ing her home that my husband finally con-
scented. We did all in our power to make
her happy, and have her feel that our
house was really her home, but she would
sometimes say to me: You are good, the
best friend in the world. but some day |
mean to have a home of my very own,
and will then try to repay you for your
kindness.
''When she was 16 the war broke out,
and our little village, being so near the
boarder line, became tn scene of the wild
est excitement. 1t was wonderful what a
transformation the child's nature seemed
to undergo. She lost her timid, shrinking
disposition, and you can have no idea of
her wonderful beauty at that time. Sew
eral of the northern regiments were sta
toned near us, and it was not at all sur
prising that Col. Marsden, a handsome
Young officer from New Hampshire, spent
all his leisure time at our house. My
husband had joined the union army at the
first outbreak, and as an urgent call for
nurses it seemed my duty to follow him:
the only draw back was Margery. Upon
speaking about staying with my sister
until the close of the war, she answered
that they were to bemarried as soon as the
colonel obtained a furlough, and were to
have a home of their W among the New
Hampshire hills.
4 vent to the front and heard so little
of the happenings In our w valley that
I vas totally u%nprepared for the sad news
that awaited my return.
"Ah. child, ehild!'' said the landlady
sadly, You who have no personal exper-
fence. spend your life In a peaceful Mass
achusetts village. nave no idea of the
heart-aches and heart-breaks, the many
terrible tradedies connected with that
word. A
Upon my returning it was my expecta-
ton to learn that Margery was happily
settled IN the home for which she had al
ways longed, but found a hopeless man