Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1894-07-27
ULRICA.

"Ulricai Ulrica amt it time to put
the kettle on?"
Old Mrs. Hopwood, in her wheeled
chair by the window, was watching
the clock, with now and then a glance
at the yellow line of sunshine that
crept along the floor, while her knit
ting lay idly in her lap.
Ulrica paid no attention to her
words, but walked straight to the lit
tie looking-glass that hung above the
cherry table, and stared intently into
its depths.
Granny" she burst out, "why an
different from other girls?"
"Child, what on earth do you
mean?"
Ulrica shook the tawny locks from
her sun-burned forehead, and flashed
the great inquiring eyes into her
grandmother's face.
81 don't know" said she, ''but
when 1 go into the village every one
looks at me. Kate Linley calls me
that wild gipsy, and just now, when
was picking dandelion greens along
tho road, l CHANGED to look up, and
there was that artist from Pbiladel.
phia coolly sketching me. PLEASE
stand still for just another minute,
said he, exactly as if was stick ,.r
And what did you say?"
Gust nothing at all. | came ayfE
into the house, and left him standing
by the gate. D
'It's because we're poor, child,
said Mrs. Hopwood, sorrowfully.
Once more the long, blue-gray eyes
flashed.
'Is it crime to be poor?"
"Well-no; but don't you see, VI
rica, that you can't dress like Miss
Linley, or go to boarding-school like
DR.. Mason's daughter?"
"But why?" persisted Ulrica, pac-
ing up and down the room like a
young lioness. "Why are we poor2p
"Well, your grandfather wasn't no
manager, crooned the old dame. "He
was always lendin' money to help
other people, and he never seemed to
get it back ag'in, and your father
hadn't nc. faculty. The Hopwoods al
I ways was unlucky, and when he hurt
his hand in Milo Stevenscs stoneyard
and couldn't work no more, every
thing went to rack and ruin. Why,
child, what be you a-cryin' for?'
'I- -don't-know!" sobbed poor
Ulrica. ''I wish l was like other folks.
Tn tired of wearing old faded gowns
and shoes all burst out at the side.
I'm tired of people calling me that
graveyard girl!'"
And she glanced vindictively out at
the white gravestones and gray mar
BILE shafts on the hillside opposite the
window.
Don't talk SO foolishly, child,
said Mrs. Hopwood, picking up the
dropped stitches in her knitting work
ave get our rent that way, looking
after the cemetery gates and keeping
the grass cut. And it's very nice
little house. You allays used to lik'
to play in the graveyard"
"That was when was little girl,
said Ulrica. 81 didn't know any bet
ter then.
''Run and shut the gate, said Mrs
Hopwood. "Ther5's Mr. Smiths rec
COW comm down the road. Then
COWS is always SO greedy arter tn
high, thick grass. And there's tn
tulip bulbs Widow Graw wanted plant
ed in her lot
''Let her plant them herself, sal
Ulrica, Strengthening her slim figur
and going diligently to work to &c
the old woman's dinner,
Mrs. Hopwood looked wistfully q
her as she knitted on. Yes, it we
quite true, She only wondered sh
had not noticed it before. Ulrica WI
unlike the other girls of Willowfiel(
She was like disguised princess, {
one of the royal red roses that gre
so rankly in the cemetery beyond.
But in spite of her rebellious word
Ulrica did plant the Widow Graw
tulip bulbs. 1t would not do to often
the trustees of the cemetery.
Granny Hopwood was old, and the
had no other home. One of the
days, perhaps-and strange, SO
light sparkled into the girls eyes
one of these daysl
The sunset was reddening the o
gravestones al she planted the la
bulb. Hush Was not that Il