The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1891-02-04

OF bad language leveled at the mead OF the
injured Doynes; 'ar wants thee; an as
ar've paid fer tina. arm bahu ter ave
tha' And he tried to clutch her wrist.
"Iisten, said Liz. And those black
ewes of hers shone so fiercely that the fell
low took n step or two backward invOlun-
tarily. 'Yu see all these people about?'-
waving her hand toward the show folk
who were packing up-'they're all my
friends. If | calls 'em and tells 'em what
you're wanting they'll kick T. life out on
YER And that's true. But don't want
'em TO know as 'e'--with a backward nod
of her disheveled head, to indicate the in
visible Doynes-' 'ad anything to do vi
this yer an so III stan TO quid If you'll
clear out quiet
"'Hand out said the would-be hus-
band, lacOnically, and as Liz had luckily
got the receipts OF the last nights per-
formances still by her, she did 30, and got
rid of the difficulty. Then she fed the
dogs, who were calling noisily for their
breakfasts, and putting on her hat, has
tened off to the doctors.
81 want you to tell me squire out what's
the matter with Doynes,' she said.
Thinking it would be a kindness not to
mince matters at ALL the doctor told her
that be was completely paralyzed in the
lower limbs, and would always remain so;
that with careful nursing he might live
Tor years, but that nothing could ever
make him walk again.
"'Had he any relationsP
"'No.'
cor friends who would take him.
"'No; he's nobody but me-.
"'Oh, you are his-er-er-daughter?
ono
"'Ah! beg pardon-wife
"No.'
"'Humphi Sister, then, and
"'NO, not even sister, said Liz, with
slight confusion. There's nothin' atwixt
us at all We'se iust-frens.
"'Then, my good girl, you had better
send him to the work-hOusc'
"'No, Pm blessed if | do said Liz, and
she bounded out OF the room and slammed
the door behind her.
"Well, there was a nice kick-up among
the show folks when it was announced
that Liz was going To keep the helpless
Doynes with her and not pack him off, as
prudence dictated, to the tender care of
the paupers' mansion. Mrs. Dolly Bobs.
who slept and lived in the same small
compartment with two grown-up sons and
daughter, besides her husband, said 1T
wasn't decent the landlord of the inn,
who had fingered much of Doynes' money,
and so spoke as an old friend, perhaps
really thought the 'Ouse was good enough
for the likes O it-meaning Doynes-and
said so to every one who was curious on
the point; and the parsOn, too, pasty
faced young fool, who hadn't been or
dained three years, came and exhOrted her
to the same effect; but Liz was losing
patience. and was distinctly rude to him.
''She staid at the place where the acct
dent had happened for a little over fort
night, and tended Doynes with the most
delicate care, although, when speech re-
turned, his groans of self-pity would have
| driven any one else distracted; and as by
! that time che had sold everything that
would sell except the dOgs-the exchequer
was empty to start with-she harnessed
the old horse in the shafts and started off
to the nearest fair, which was luckily not
many miles away. Thanks to Dovnes'
previous laziness. she was quite capable of
doing everything by herself, and che de-
| clared to me that this new era of her life
was not an atom harder than the one
which went before. In fact, she said it
was easier, because the knowledge that
Dovnes wanted little comforts, which cost
extra money, made the getting of it seem
| lighter
so course she told me, with mis-
| CnltNOuS utten Oh JUOSS DldCk ewes OF neTB,
| 20 course, vittles is dearer now, cause
amt s andy at pickin' up things as e was ;
but then, when we gets 'em my way, we
ken eat EN- when we likes, an don't ave
10 bolt 'em in hurry. Lord! L mind i'm
an me an the dogs VIOLIN goose in ten
minutes once an none too soon neither
| fer they come to look fer 1t whites we was
a-pickin our teeths!
"Winters were the hardest times; the
| first one, especially. 1t was difficult to Law
by any money for the hard season, and
more difficult still to earn any in it. Liz
would sometimes get an odd sixpence or
perhaps shilling by doing bit OF wash
| ing or baking, but these windfalls were
precarious. Dwellers in cities don't like
Ishmaelites, and all respectable people
| fight shy OF a young woman that lives
with man who is no relation to her.
'But, as Liz said, in her bright, CHEEKY
| way We allus worried through some'ow !;
an if Doynes didn't get is poort, e never
went wpOut sup O. beer
''She starved herself to let Doyles have
| luxuries.
"And so things went on till last winter,
which, as you know, was an exceptionally
hard one; and then troubles came down
| upon them thick and fast. The horse-a
sorry beast-died, and with him passed
| away steady source of income; the clever
collie-nOt the one which found her origin
| ally, but his successor-was poisoned, and
he was the best dog of the troupe; the
caravan-which was very old and rotten
began to leak badly all over and they
could not afford to get it satisfactorily re-
| paired, though Liz did all she could with
painted canvas and tin tacks; Doynes got
very feeble and sickly, and required con-
| slant nourishment and attention; there
was strike in the neighborhood, and
consequently no work to be obtained; and
| finally Liz herself contracted cough
which racked her continually, and made
her, as she expressed it, as fond, an fee
bic, an doddery as a newborn pup
at was terrible struggle that winter !;
aud when spring came, Liz carried the
marks of il clearly. Her black eyes were
more brilliant than ever and her ouce
healthy brown cheeks were now sunken
and Redeemed with dangerous hectic
flush. She hired horse Tor the road-a
piebald beast belonging to Van Davey's
American Cirque which necessitated her
always following in the wake of that
equestrian exhibition, and made large
hole in her own takings.