St. Landry democrat., 1889-07-13
TWO GIRLS,
BY FANNIE e. NEWBERRY.

Mother, I'll go see the Squire myself"
"You, Dolly2 The ideal And what
would you say2"
I'D tell him all about it, mother-the
sickness, the poor crops, and how we've
worked for the shop. and all. He's a good
man, and I'm sure he'll listen, for we've
never been back on the rent before, and |
don't believe he knows how uncivil his
bailiff is"
Dolly poured it all out with the impetu-
oslty of her sixteen years, and her mother
watching the glowing cheeks and dewy
eyes, remembering also the Squire's own
daughters, thought, ''Sure, she'll touch
1.-The heart of him if anybody can, i" and said
aloud:
''Well, Dolly, go, and the Lord be with
you Don't make yourself too smart, for
it's tale of poverty and distress you
carry; but don't be sloven, neither, for
they can't abide such up to the Squire's."
No, mother, Ill try and be just right.
And she hurried away to prepare for the
momentous occasion.
Certainly she seemed "just right" to
ordinary eyes, as she reappeared, in a
clean calico, and braided hair; but her
mother adjusted fold here, and smoothed
rebellious curl there, giving many ad-
monitions the while, for upon the success
OF her errand depended the comfort and
shelter of the family this whole winter.
Yes, winter was certainly on the way,
though to-day you would only know it by
the browning leaves and half stripped
shrubbery. The sun shown warmly yet,
and the grass was still green in sheltered
places, but bird notes were scarcely heard
they knew the summer was over, at
least.
Dolly's heart beat heavily as she ap-
preached the fine old-fashioned building
Tor rather pile of buildings) which was
known far and near as the Hall.
Some portions of it were as old as
Shakespeare's tragedies, and one wing had
been added only year ago, but the ivy
that covered it's walls seemed to blend all
into perfect accord as skillful PALMER
blends the various tints in his picture.
As she took the short cut across the
meadow to the stile which she must cross
before reaching the rear entrance, she saw
two children on the topmost step, chubby
little girl seated with her doll in her arms,
while fine boy, somewhat older, stood at
her side. Dolly loved children, SO as she
came near she stopped and gave them
recognize their faces.
LIZ" WI o&Iu DOy III 1Cbulus "A11O
the little girl gave hep shy smile, end
asked curiously:
'.Does you lib in gwampas housef'
Dolly laughed.
''No, dear, not if grandpa is the Squire.
eyes, he is, said the boy, land we're
waiting for Aunt Eunice to come and
gather nuts with us-she's coming soon."
sis she9" A sudden thought struck
Dolly. ''Aunt Eunice" was the pretty
young girl, about her own age, who had
just come home from school for little
while, and probably these were children of
the older sister. Eleanor, who had married
q Londoner years ago. Now, why not
wait here with the children, and see what
kind of girl this Eunice was, and per-
hsps she might help her in this errand to
the Squire, before the very thought of
whose majesty the poor farmers daughter
grew faint with dread.
She seated herself, and was smiling
amusedly over their babyish talk, when a
snsloKfel across them, and, looking up
Quickly she saw tall girl, who looked SO
Elegant and unapproachable that poor
sDolly'A heart sank, as she rose and dropped
. low E.3rtesy.
The young girl bowed smilingly, in re-
turn.
"Pm glad you've had company, Robert
and Eta. / was longer than meant to be.
Can't you present your friend r looking
inquiringly at Dolly.
swered for them. '1'm Dorothy Dwight,
but they call me Dolly for short. Ny
father rents of the Squire"
"Ahl" and Eunice looked critically at
the sweet, bashful face. 'tWas you going
to the Hall ?"
eyes, Miss, l." She hesitated and then
plunged on, 81 was going to see your
father, Miss, but if might only tell you
Pm SO afraid of the Squirrel"
ssAfraid of papa-;-how funny He's as
good-natured as the day is long !"
eyes, to his own, Of course, Miss, but he
isn't pleased if the rents don't come in
prompt, and we can't pay just now"
The tears came to Dolly's eyes, and Eu-
nice's fine face grew sympathetic.
"Have you had losses2" she asked,
nOh. yes, Miss, and sickness and trouble
Fathers always been forehanded, but
this year his rheumatic was so bad he
couldn't do much, and the crops turned
: poor.
Johns work at the mill, for he was getting
good wages, but the machinery went
wrong, and caught him SO that it broke
his arm, and now he's laid up. too. Then
mother n took in work for the shop over
to the village, but oh Miss. do what we
can. it isn't more than bread, and Goals,
and DOCTORS stuff, that we can earn.
Here poor Dolly broke down utterly, and
Eunice came near following suit. Little
Eta really did sob, and Robert said bold.r
+ Mu nora,S pnf hi.
hank I'M to London, with no end OF money
n the yaultl I'll tell him to send you q
At this they all laughed as readily as
thev had cried before; for the smiles and
tears of youth lie close together, and
Eunice said:
.sWell. Dolly, it's very sad, but I'm sure
a. IT'S as YOU say, papa'll do what's right. .
"And IL you'd only tell him for me,
Miss Eunice I'm so scaredF'
aWell. 1 withdrawing little-"fol
hnow his weakest moment-1ts aftel
5;nner That's the time had chosen te
ask =,
She stopped suddenly, and looked with
81 absent. minded air into Dolly's face
moment, then brought her hands together
sharply. -. - no,,n NV u.r,
hast a. home and hope that all will come
r;gh a i. and taking hand of either child
sba hurried away, followed by Dolly's
blessings till quite ont of hearing.
The SQUIRE did not look as if he had
.rv verv weak moments, as, hale, hearty
~ hrasd chested, he sat before the broad,
oman FIRE in the great dining room.
His sons were holly discussing politics
- the table from whence the ladies' bad