Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1893-05-04

sent her, had remained but one short
week in the world, and had been laid to
rest in the green church yard of her own
home.
SO Nannie's pretty face had sad look,
and very early there were threads Of
silver in her fair hair. Mrs. Fairdon's
great delight was to do what good she
could. The parish workhouse was not
far from the shop, and she had made &C
quaintance with the busy matron, Mrs.
Brown, the consequence was that she
was often allowed to visit the old people
and the intirmary, and her visits were
hailed with delight--meanlng as they
often did, packets Of tea, good home
made cake, and sometimes baskets of
flowers. More than one poor friendless
waif of society owed to her that most
precious of all gifts. fresh start on
coming out of the house. In any out-of-
the-wav case Mrs. Brown was wont to
seek sympathy and even advice from
Mrs. Fairdon.
1t had been so when poor Assunta had
been brought in almost dying, and re-
duced to such poverty that she had sold
all the warm clothing she had possessed
Assunta never again raised her head
from the pillow. The baby was
strong, healthy child, and throve we'll
even on workhouse nursing and food. 1t
used to lie contentedly cooling for hours
by it's dying mother, at once the com
fort ana agony of her heart. That no
answer came to her letter scanned to AS
sunta to mean that Lady Grisel had
withdrawn her offer of help, that the
Minister shranl from telling her such
grievous news, that she was deserted by
all.
One day Mrs. Fardon (who visited
her every day. found her in such grief
that, melting into tears herself, she i'm
plored her to make her indeed her friend
and contidant; and Assunta told her all
her meseraUle story, only emitting the
names. AS she dwelt on Evans good
ness. his beauty, and his love for her.
Mrs. Fairdon saw we'll the blow that the
suspicion Of his treachery must have
been; but she stitled the exclamation of
Indignation that rose to her lips, fearing
to add to Assunta's anguish by confirm
ing the dread, only half admitted by the
unhappy girl, that Evan had indeed
been false. She soothed and petted her;
then burst forth the poor mothers terror
for her chid--what would become Of
her? she was so utterly friendless.
w men NlTS. Il diEuOD IciG HCI DouSluc
and went home a dazzling vision was
playing before her eyes, Would Andrew
allow her to adopt this child as her OWE.
Once, half in joke, he had told her that
if she could find baby without one
single tie in the world, she might have
it, and the thought had been with her
ever since.
The bookseller had not finished his
work, but he was standing in the tiny
backyard Of his house washing his
hands at the pump, and singing merrily
to himself AutolYcus' song
"Jog or, jog on, the footpath way,
And merrlly hent the stile-a;
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires III u mica.
When he saw Mrs. FairdOn's comely face
now full of the keenest anxiety, he went
up to her and kissed her, saying, GLOW
now, sweet wife,
Shakespeare was his mood just now,
and he could scarcely speak plain En-
glish.
With eager haste she told him her
story, holding him tight by one Of the
buttons Of his coat. She had found the
baby at last. Might she have it? AS
she turned her tender blue eyes up to
his, Andrew read in them that indescrib
able longing of the childless mother, that
unsatlSfied emptiness of heart and arms
that till this moment he had scarcely
realized, and had not noticed for years.
1T is such a dear little thingN she
said; "a sweet little winsome thing with
golden hair. 1t would be Joy and COM
fort to you, Andy, and you could teach
it your fine poetry, and educate 1T to
understand as | mover could-nO, not if
I 70
The mans eyes sparkled-there was
something very inviting about the idea
of this child to bring up.
you are sure that nobody will be
wanting to claim it?" he said, jealousy,
as though it were already his own. IF
anybody else wants it. I'll not lift q
finger to take 1t; my right must be I'M
disputed"
''It has neither father nor kinsfolk to
own it, and the poor young mother is
dying: she is an Italian"
IAN Italian hunt"
"But she has lived all her life in Scot
land" cried Mrs. Fairdon, "and speaks
English as we'll as yourself"
1T might be called Juliet" muttered
Andrew, and his wife caught at the
words.
"Then may? can tell her that the
child shall be ours?'
Yes; but, my dear'-he was surprised
to find his soft-hearted wife sobbing
aloud on his breast; he went on kindly
my dear, I will leave all to you: we
must not have it if it is claimed bv
others; make sure of this first"
II will will. thank you, Andy-how
can / thank you?"
Before half her thanks were over she
had gone back to tell the news to poor
ASSunta.
When Mrs Fardon reached the work
house, Assunta was almost past speak
ing. The people lying in their rows OF
beds ranged against the buff plastered
walls were all silent. for they knew that
one soul from among them was passing