Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-02-02
hem with a passionate hunger.

mortified Anybody would think you were an animal"
 '1 guess be, miss, ain't sure. Inever had nothin or nobody before to care about. never see God, and ain't sure there is one, or mebbe was too poor and missible for him to think of me way ] down here. loved kitten once, and Miss Blodgett drownded it to spite me- Nobody was ever very kind to me, for got more cuffs nor anything else The woman at the poor farm was better nor most on 'em, but you are the beautiful est and the best. and guess if you'd let me dast to love you 1 shouldn't tell no more lies, though used to lie like Sam Hill to git out of lickins and scrapes" Agnes could not speak for minute You poor thing" she said at last, stoop- ing downan smoothing the girls rough head softly with her hand No one shall beat you now. They will have to beat me first if they do But you must always speak the truth to me, Phemy,"
 T will, miss, if dies for it.
 It was twilight again, and Phemy had kindled on the hearth fire of fat pine wood that snapped and crackled pleas antly and cast fantastic lights over the
 
 Mother Rollins keeping room Agnes sat leaning back in the rocking chair and watched the blaze, while her long, queer shadow hickered and wavered up the wall The room was delicately scented with apple blooms and lilacs that crowded blue jar on the chimney piece AS she sat there idly dreaming her thoughts reverted to the young pho tographer Phemy had seen in the morn ing, and by a singular association of ideas she remembered that Percy Fallon was an enthusiastic devotee of the cam era. But Percy was thousands of miles away across the sea. and there was no oc- casion to think of Linn or to begin to hum his favorite song there in the twilight. To drive him quite out of her head she lighted the lamp and proposed to give Phemy her first lesson in reading. It was the b c business, very slow and tedious to both teacher and learner.
 At last Phemy, sitting on stool at Miss Ransom's feet heaved great sigh. "If could only learn to read with my fingers and toes, missl But my head never was of much account-a kind of empty pumpkin shell"
 "It's very good head, but you haven't learned how to use it." said Agnes, land the joints and hinges are a little rusty. We shall soon get them oiled. Do you know how to sew?" She had brought down the drapery parcels procured that morning in Littlefeld and her work basket.
 Phemy shook her head, and said with transparent candor: "I can't sew fit to be seen. Miss Blodget said my sewin looked as if it was done with a crowbar." Agnes meantime had opened one of the paper parcels, and revealed roll of pretty blue gingham and some white cambric. "This is to make you frock and some aprons, Phemy. You are ragged and dirty, and 1 don't suppose you have change of clothes"
 Phemy clasped her hands and gave a prolonged "OhV with her shaggy head bowed as if in kind of dumb ecstacy. Then suddenly she prostrated herself on the floor like an Indian fakir before his idol, and began to shed kisses on the hem of Agnes dress.
 "Get up," said the latter sharply, "and try to behave yourself"
 Phemy arose with meekness and con- triton. "I forgot" said she humbly. "l won't do SO no more if it makes you mad"
 "It don't make me mad, as you say" Agnes returned, coloring, land, by the way, that is very unpleasant word-it is foolish and silly and absurd; may say almost wicked"
 Phemy looked as if she were trying to swallow something big and hard that had lodged in her throat. "I never had dress like that" she said, half sobbing; never no new thing, only old clos as was made over-dark, humbly stuff Miss Maple, at the poor farm, give me two shinmys They was a sight too big for me, but now they are all wore out, and hain't stitch on underneath but 8 flannel petticut."
 You will have new underclothcs," said Agnes, "and want you to learn to sew on them. Sit down now and look at this fashion book to see how you would like to have your frock made, and then you must take your needle and learn how to hem and backstitch and fell on bit of cloth"
 Phemy seized the fashion book in a tremble of eagerness, and with her el- bows on her knees and her fingers run through her thick hair, began to gloat on the slim waisted ladies who looked so naughty and proud in their bewildering hats and gowns. She devoured them with her eyes, and at last uttered great sigh of joy
 "Well," said Agnes, who had waited patiently, have you settled how you would like to have it made!"
 "I guess, miss, with long tail to it. long tail is so hevingly."
 But you can't have a long tail, Phemy; you are a little girl. Such gowns are worn by ladies only when they go into evening company"
 Well" said Phemy, laying by the book with look of intense disappoint- ment, Eff can't have long tail don't care much how it's made"
 Mrs. Burns, an hour later, peeped in