Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1889-08-24


thin hand, as was his wont when engaged
in professional contemplation.
"Yes,o he murmGred, this umbrella
has good strong framework. Marius
never had a strong moral framework.
brellas-yery like umbrellas. But they do
not last SO well, and | do not think they
ever can be repaired-they can only be
patched up for a time"
He was still holding the umbrella in his
hand, when Bernard Dene came into the
room carrying little, fair-haired girl
! wrapped in a gray shawl. She was crying
and looked terrified
This is Bernardine," the artist said.
And then he added almost pathetically /:
"She always cries when she is with me.
! She is frightened of me; but she loved
him yonder. Hush, child you must not
cry. You viii wake him. He is tired,
and he wants to Sleep You may kiss
hIm-on the forehead"
@Oh, how coldp' she said, shrinking
back, when her lips met the cold forehead.
Yes Bernardine," her father said. fond
ling her fair hair. But it is showing, YOU
know. Every one is cold when it is snow
ing"
"Put me down." she begged; az don't
want TO be with you. Let me go to the little
| old gentleman"
'She never loved me" murmured the
artist; sit was every one else but me-"
| And he turned away and wept his whole
| heart out, while the umbrella member was
holding the child in his arms, talking to
| her as though he had known and loved her
/ all her life-he who had never before held
child in his arms, EXCEPT Marius yon-
der.
"Will you come home with me, little
one ?" he asked, in voice so gentle that
Bernard Dene ceased weeping and listened
| to it.
eyes" she answered, smiling at him, and
her fair head rested on his shoulder
"Then say goodbye to your father" he
said, "and we will go home at once"
Goodbye, dad" she said, carelessly. 1t
was nothing to her to part from him.
You'll not see NE again, Bernardine,"
he said, sadly.
"Shan't I ~ she asked. "Do you know,
( if he wasn't so cold I'd kiss him again?
think I'd like to"
So they held her over him, and she
kissed him, and put her little arms around
his neck. Then they put his last gift-book
in her hand, and the umbrella member
turned to the artist
Il am sorry TO leave you,' he said kindly,
! ''but the hour has now come, and we must
| go our own ways. You have a long way
to go. Remember, l trust you implicitly
Farewell. | shall see you to-morrow-not
as you are now, it is true l shall look
| upon what you were; and believe me,
| young man, | shall grieve for you Fare
well, Bernard Dene. Even failure is only
relative term, you know. And that
| which the world calls failure may have
| some better and nobler name in another
| plapet. Therefore do not lose heart about
! yourself"
The artist bowed his head; his right
hand rested on the child's head, his left
| hand on the umbrella-mender's shoulder.
"1ou have spoken very kindly to me-"
he said. eff there be God, | trust that
God may bless you, and make your latter
| days happy and peaceful. AS for me, be
assured that / will not break my word to
| you. | leave my child and my pictures to
| you. Shall | see you home? The snow
| lies thick on the ground, and YOU do not
know the way very well, and it is bitterly
! cold. Put on my overcoat. | shall not
want it, for | shall not 60 out again unless
! you would like me to see you home"
"Do not trouble to do that" said the
umbrella member. "Bernardine and will
easily find our way. And many thanks
| for the offer of the coat. | should be
! grateful for it. Do not be anxious about
Bernardine. / will take every care of her
And now, goodnight"
The artist followed him down the
creaking stairs, and opened the door for
them to pass out. He closed the door
hastily after them. There were few men
standing about, and some boys were snow
balling each other and laughing Justify,
and one of them, seeing the umbrella
mender, prepared a huge missile, and was
! just about to aim it at his head when a
great coarse-looking woman prevented
him.
"Hold hard p she cried, with an oath.
| tits the mad painters little daughter.
SNOWFALL me, not She"
Bernardine chung closer to the umbrella
member.
That's what they always call him."
| she whispered, dreamily-"mad, mad
what can it mean?
But before he could answer her she had
fallen into gentle sleep, and thus he bore
her along the snow-coyered streets, careful
| of every step he took lest perchance he
| might slip and rouse her from her slum-
bers. Her little golden head rested against
/ his face and her little hands tightly
| clasped his neck, and he loved to feel her
| touch, remembering that she and she alone
/ had called forth what good there was in
! his sons evil nature. The world might
call him bad and heartless, for such he
had proved himself to be to the world, but
| this child said he was kind and good, for
| such he had shown himself to be to her.
] 1t was something in his favor that he had
won this child's love; maybe it would 90
1 all the better with him hereafter, because
her lips had touched his cold forehead.
So the umbrella-mender carried her to
the umbrella shop. He laid her tenderly
on the counter, well wrapped in the warm
gray shawl. He lighted the lamp and
made up the fire In the little inner room,
and then, to the best of his ability, impro-
vised coy bed, where he placed her Just
as she was. Then he knelt by her and
| guarded her for a while, smiling content
edly when he saw her smiling in her sleep.
After an hour or so he left her, and, care
| fully shading the lamp from her eyes, he
| settled down to read few pages of Grote's
/ Greece" in which he had been engaged
| when he was summoned away to his sons
death-bed. He tried to collect his thoughts
and concentrate them on the subject,
which had great interest for him; but
he found himself thinking now of the art
list, now of his son, and he found his eyes
wandering away from the pages of Grote's
history to the spot yonder where the child
was sleeping and smiling, and holding
tightly in her hands Marius Crocker's last
gift-book.
What will she prove?n he said aloud
'Her father is undoubtedly mad. 1t is
| ci1rinIlS sensation hai,nor NTH n mailman,