Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1891-09-11
HOW 'LlZBETH FOUND HER
FATHER.
BY MARGARET MANToN.

HD bSei iAfSh III u CClldI oOWu III
Mott street. No one knew what her
ether name was. 'Lizbeth could not in
form them. She used to wonder about
Il herself, as she sat looking out of her
one window.
Lizbeth called it window, but in
reality it was only an iron grating that
overlooked the sidewalk. In order to
see out of it the little girl had to sit over
against the cellar wall, and then all she
could see was the feet of the people as
they went by.
Liz'beth used to wish 90 times that
she could see what ~ ywners of the
feet were like, br IN it was rather
nice to sit ap' slne about it. Most
of them bei> -ged to working people, but
now and then pair of patent feathers
went by, and once IN a great while a
lady's kid boot and dainty French heels
would pass with light tread, as If the
owner wished as little contact as possible
with that wretched street.
'Liz'beth had been up in the CITY Hall
Park on pleasant afternoons, and there
she had seen the ladies and gentlemen
who wore pretty shoes. SO she knew
what they were like. But that was a
long time ago.
Liz'beth felt very sad this morning,
for her kitten had just died.
1t wasn't much of kitten, either.
One Of its eyes was gone, and some cruel
boy had cut off a piece of its tail. The
cold weather had wited an ear, so that
it hung forward, giving poor kitty the
look of disreptuable character. But
her little mistress thought she was beau
tiful and loved her better than ANYTHING
else.
Liz'beth called her kitten "Biiou."
She hadn't any idea what it meant, and
she couldn't have spelled it to save her
life. But one day in the pretty park
lady went by leading curly white dog,
which she called "Bijou," and that
night Liz'beth christened the kitten.
The little girl sold papers in those
days, and every day she bought penny's
worth of milk, which she gave Bijou, and
she used to beg scraps of meat from the
market on the corner. Sometimes she
found fish in the ash-barrel, not over
fresh usually, but Bijou wasn't particu-
lar.
I've forgotten to tell you that Liz
beth had not lived alone in the cellar
always. Some one whom she called
Mag" used to be there. ,Liz'beth was
afraid of Mag. She was good enough
when she was sober, but that was so sell
dem.
Sometimes Mag would be away for
whole week, and LIZ beth would dread
to have her come back, she was always
SO ugly.
Once she came home more fierce than
usual; she was in trouble and wanted
money. 'Liz'beth had been lucky for
week and had saved almost 81. She got
it out from behind brick-that was
her bank-and gave it to the wretchcd
woman, who struck her in return and
went away.
'Liz'beth was pretty we'll used to
blows; she'd had a lot of them; but
somehow it hurt worse than usual this
time. Her head ached, and her poor
little desolate heart ached, too. There
was tight feeling in her throat, and
the first thing she knew she was crying
SO hard that Bijou, who lay in her lap,
was all wet.
1t seemed 10 her she could remember
when some one with pretty hair and soft
gray eyes had held her and rocked her
and sung-what was it she used to sing2 |
Liz beth closed her eyes, swayed to and
iro, and tried to tnlnk.
Softly through the mist of almost-for-
gotten things came the shadowy men,
ory of that song-so softly that it seemed
only the ghost of words that whispered;
A sleepy kiss is the only fare;
Dear little passenger, say goodnight
Into the station of dreamland we 20,
Baby and |, in our rocking-chair.
How queer 1t seemed "There's surely
something the matter with my head"
said Liz beth, and then she began TO
think again; the fancies were pleasant
II they were queer.
The next thing that camo to her was n