The Florida agriculturist. [volume] (DeLand, Fla.) 1878-1911, 1893-04-12
MY PRINCESS.

erless daughter of Squire Kent of Kent
House and five years my senior, but was
only the daughter of her fathers garden%
When was born, was christened Dorothy
in honor of the squire's wife; that made
me choose Dorothy for my princess. Iknew
that mother was once very dear friend of
Mrs. Kent's-mOther told me that herself
and was so proud of the fact that once
the princess mother and my own had
trudged to school together
And | remember SO we'll how loved to
follow father on his route of work, if just
to play around the home of my princess
and dream of her. was always called an
imaginative child, and to me the faraway
Dorothy appeared as a beautiful princess
clad all in white and crowned with flowers
And then, too in the winter evenings it
was always my greatest delight to have
mother draw her chair up to the cheerful
CRATE fire in our best" room, let me rest
my head on her knee, and then tell me over
and over again all she knew about Dorothy
Kent. 'She has her mothers blue eyes
and yellow curls, my dear, and everybody
loved her-just us they did her mother once,
my poor dead Dora," and then she would
hurriedly give me my good night kiss and
bid me hurry to bed, as if she did not care
to recall the past any longer And the
next morning was generally sure to scrib-
BILE on all the available paper stories and
imagined descriptions Of my princess.
And one day she came remember how
| grumbled that morning in early June
when mother said must dust the great,
queer wooden mantel in the inner room,
and remember, too, how little after ]
heard mother scream and how ran to the
kitchen just in time to see her drop nsy
pretty little flower vase, her last birthday
gift to me, and rush excitedly to the door
way. And there, framed in the honey
suckle vines, dressed all in white and carry
ing few sprays of pink and white hya-
cinths. was my beautiful princess For
Auntie May and the other DOrrie," heard
her say, pointing to the flowers. But moth
err did not heed her. She was just clinging
to her as if she never could leave her, MUIR
muring incoherently all the while some
thing about her poor Dorrie" over again.
her poor, dear Dorrie."
AS to me, was jealous, and wondered,
too, that mother should be called 'Auntie
May" and why couldn't have such beau
tiful big blue eyes us she had. But still
think now that that day was the happiest
Dorrie's influence that was instructed AN
we'll as she was, and not a day passed that
did not see us together. We loved each
other devotedly, and so the years flew until
one day Dorothy was Is and must resume
her travels. In week she was gone | lost
my little princess.
And year later lost my dear mother
also Time passed, and was told that ia
theirs eyes were very weak-so weak that
unless Immediately attended to he would
soon be totally blind. MY child" said
good old DR. Caver, your fathers case
needs the attention of some one like DIR
Trowe | would advise you to go to him
at once" And go we did. | was 10 now
and could earn nice living by my stories,
so father always had the best of care. II
was destiny that bade me go-destiny that
made my father blind.
Dr. Richard Trowe was not very young
man any more; indeed his last milestone
was numbered 80 But that was neither
here nor there He was so noble that every
one loved him, so kind that the poor fairly
worshiped him, and | was no exception.
learned to love the obliging, earnest, sym
pathetic doctor with all my heart. Iwould
not have let him know it, though, for the
world, and when he came he only saw a
plain little woman in somber gray, who
answered his questions in monosyllables,
because she dared not trust herself to do
more. And then one day letter from
Dorothy came. She was fatherless now
and said that she would like to see the
other Dorrie, who was becoming famous,
like the naughty girl she>always was.
Of course the princess came; of course the