Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1890-06-19

1IlAI OCNaluO NoA0AOoS ~ 49,
and even ran away from the other
children once or twice, to hide IN the
orchard and rack her poor little brain
with thoughts that had no rightful
place in the mind of child. She
forgot to whistle an answer to the
oriole that was building its nest on
the swinging branch of tall elm In
Mr.. Brayton's meadow across the
road, and his loud, mellow whistle
passed unheeded, so intent was she on
the verses that she hoped would win
the prize.
The contest was to be held in the
town hall, and the larger members of
the class had taken great pains to
decorate it for the occasion in a be-
coming manner. Great jars, the sides
hidden by trailing vines, were filled
with ferns and branches of wild haw'
thorn blossoms. Apple blossoms were
everywhere, in vases, pitchers, bowls,
on table, floor, window-sills, wherever
there was room, till the dingy, dusty
hall was like bower of bloom and
fragrance. Mrs. Brayton had sent
her fur rugs and few chairs for the
platform, and piano lamp with rose
colored shade lent soft light to
the stage that gave it quite home-like
effect. .. ..
News of the novel contest had
spread abroad and when the hour
came for commencing the room was
we'll filed. DIR. Snow, Lawyer Dex'
ter and the Rev. Mr. Carter were
chosen as the awarding committe, and
the exercises began. The competitors
for the prize came forward one by one,
Fanny Brayton, Harry Dexter, Tom
DePeyster and others, until only Trixy
remained.
Miss Beatrice Winslow,' called
Miss Fairlie, and queer little figure
stepped on the platform, arrayed in
manner that caused an irresistible
smile in the audience. A faded pink
dress, patched with goods of another
color, her hair standing out like Cir
cassian girls from the braidlpg she
had given it over night, white apron,
like the dress scrupulously clean, but
long enough for one twice her years. a
bunch of wild violets pinned on the
bosom of her shabby gown, we're of the
most startling features of Trixy's toll
ct. She did not notice the smile that
ran around the room. Unmindful
of self, but deeply anxious for success
for her mothers sake, she knit her
small forehead into decided frown
as she unfolded the coarse bit Of
paper, and with funny little bow be-
gan: ... ...-.
ll"Who knows the curse of drunkards 9 life2
The drunkard's g children, the drunkard's g wife;
The birds have home in the forest tree,
But the drunkard's child has no place to fee;
Pity not the animals wild,
But pity, oh pity, the drunkard's child!'
Her folorn appearance, the touching
sincerity of her tones, her artless ap-
peal to the crowd before her, touched
every heart. A round of applause
followed and Mr.. Carter leaned over
to whisper to his neighbor:
She's a bright little creature for a
nine-year old, eh, doctor?'
There was q whispered conference
among the committee, and then the
minister rose.
The prize has been awarded to
Beatrice Winslow,' he said, and then
more applause followed, louder than
ever. E...
Some one rose and came out into
the open space in front of the rost-
rum, and at the first sound of his
voice, those who knew him recog-
nlzed it as the voice of Trixy's faith
er ..
Friends he began; and the ap-
plause ceased as by magic. I'm not
man of many words, as you know,
but want to say that I am ready to
take the pledge to. night for the sake
Of my little Trixy there, God bless
her, and | do it praying that I may
live to become a pride instead of a
disgrace to her, and that may have
Gods help to keep the solemen prom
Eise enter into here and now
4 All pressed round him with con-
Igratulations land when Trlxy, her
arms round his neck, sobbed out with
lsmiles that were half tears, 'Oh, papa!
} how glad dear mamma will bel there
was not dry eye in the house.
Trixy 10 o woman now, but she has
, never seen her father drink since that
day, and though she is a weh-known
writer for leading magazines and
papers she treasures as her choicest
, composition her prize poem.-Unton
. Signal "'H.E @ "
: Bucklen's Arnica Salve.