The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-08-02

The child trembed from head to
feet.
Yes, all for you'll Go, now, buy
| your string, and come to me.n
a look of ecstatic gratitude flashed
from his eyes, and he darted away. In
ten minutes he reappeared, radiant
" Is it all right now?" asked Felicie
"a right, Missile"
" Before you play, / want you to
talk with me little. What is your
name?"
TONY, Missile"
" How old are your"
Dunno, Missile"
" Do you live here at the hotel?"
~ sleep in Big Ell'n's cabin,
Missile"
" Is Big Ellen good to your"
" She-she wallop me, Missile"
Felicie's face flushed.
d" What for?"
The boy looked down, balancing
awkwardly from one bare foot to The
other.
"I'se good for muffin, Missile. Ise
amt with my salt. Ise allays a.strum-
min an a thrummin', when I'd ort to
be to wuk-fotchin' watah, an diggin'
in de garden"
He spoke with so comical an air of
conviction that Felicie could not for.
bear smiling.
Very well-let me hear you play"
The boy grasped his banjo and struck
a few tentative chords. A strange.
listening look crept over his face; its
heavy uncouth lines underwent some
swift, subtle transformation. Even his
listless muscles seemed to conform to
some new co-ordinating force; the
movements of his arm were free and
strong; his fingers leaped with lissome
grace along the strings. In moment
he glided into little plantation mel
ody-a simple air, full of the haunting
sadness born of old slavery days. His
heavy-lidded, pathetic eyes gazed out
upon the water now beginning to show
emerald tints under the mounting sun,
but the light which deepened in them
was not reflected from the sea or land.
Mrs. Severance, hurrying up from the
beach, cried out in dismay at sight of
tears on Felicie's cheeks.
"Why, my dear child! Rosalie, what
can you have been thinking off? Don't
you see that Miss Felice is tired to
death? Her weak nerves, and! all this
noisel Run away, child"
The boys hands dropped, and all his
verve and self-possession with them.
Once more grotesque, pitiable, he was
turning away, when Felicie laid a trans
parent hand on his worn sleeve.
No, no, Tony Mamma is mis-
taken. The music is beautiful has
not tired met has made me better.
Do you understand? And 1 want you
tomorrow morning-don't forget"
Mrs. Severance shrugged her grace
full shoulders.
"Of all the odd fancies, Feliciel" she
said, as the child shuflied away. " The
boy is absolutely flightful. How you
can want him about you passes my
comprehension. But you never were
like anybody elsew
Yet you love me, little mamma?n
Felicie's smile was very sweet.
Her mother stopped to kiss her.
But [ wish you weren't so tired. -
The annoyance was not quite gone
from her tone. "Now you can't see
the Draytons until you have had your
rest"
Tony was waiting next morning,
when Feicie came down leaning on
Rosalie's ARMAND the next,-and the
next. A wonderful friendship grew
between the two. The boy would sit
for hours at her feet, supremacy happy
only to touch a fold of her dress, or
catch glance from her eyes. The life
of the forlorn little waif was not with
out compensations; genius had already
outweighed much,-with love added,
poverty and content kicked the beam.
With spaniel-like faithfulness Tony
would follow while Rosalie pushed her
young mistress in a wheeled chair up
and down the sands.
Felicie saw the longing in his face.
Let Tony try, Rosalie," said she.
1t was pleasant thing to see the
proud light leap into the boys face
the small curved shoulders straighten
Tony had come into his kingdom.
Don't worry about me, little mammal
| am so comfortable to- day, and Tony
is so careful" Felicie would say. 60
sail with the rest. l can't have you
shutting yourself up and losing your
roses"
81 am little off color, am l not,
Felicie?" Mrs. Severance would cry
with an anxious glance into her mirror
|DuJ you hlOW L uOu : nina UQdl.
would willingly wear myself to a shadow
for you. But you are surely better
my love-"
ever so much better, mammal"
Then with much patting of cushions
and numberless charges about draughts
and eliXirs, Mrs. Severance would fit
away, and Felicie and her little servi-
tor be left together.
The old banjo had been replaced by
new one, from whose sensitive strings
the small, black fingers drew wonderful
harmonies. The mail steamer had
brought the package, and unsuspecting
Tony himself had cut the cords anc
unwound the wrappings.
81 don't hardly dast to keep it. al
: along o. Unc' Joe. He's that umptious
: Missile Feleesep' he said, when he haC
with difficulty been made to understand
that the treasure was his very own.
"Sing for me, Tony" said Felicie
: one day.
The child's voice was strangely mel
I low and sweet. He touched the nstru