Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-07-14

SdIOU, Sic
/ found a quiet corner Tor herself, and read
I some OF the newspapers. No one took the
: slightest notice OF her; not a word WAS
/ spoken to her; but when she relieved the
was commented on.
Il am sorry that she heard what 1 said {"
| remarked Miss Blake But she did rot
seem to mind. These young women VINO
go out into the world lose the edge of their
| constituencies ana femininity. L nave al
ways observed that"
How much they are spared theAr' an
swered some one
Meanwhile the little girl slept soundly.
She had merry dreams, and finally woke up
| laughing She hurried over her breakfast
ana then stood ready to go for a butterfly
hunt She looked thoroughly happy and
| evidently had found, and was holding tight
| ly the key to LIES enjoyment
Oswald Everard was waiting on the bal
cony, and he reminded her that he intend
| ed TO go with her.
Come along. them" she answered; I'VE
must not lose a moment"
They caught butterflies, they picked flow
ers. they ran; they fingered by the wayside
they sang; they climbed and he maryeled
at her easy speed. Nothing seemed to tire
| her, and everything seemed to delight her.
the flowers, the birds, the Clouds the grass
| es, and the fragrance of the pine woods.
rs 1t not good to liver she cried. lis il
not splendid to take in this scented air?
Draw in as many long breatns as You can
| Isn't ii good? Don't you feel now as
Enough you were ready TO move mountains I?
1 DO What dear old nurse nature is!
! How she pets u.s. and gives us the best OF
! her trea sureS!'
Her happiness invaded Oswald Everard's
soul, and he felt like a schoolboy once more
! rejoicing in a fine day and his liberty.
with nothing to spoil the freshness of the
air, and nothing to threaten the freedom of
/ the moment.
rs it not good to live?" he cried. Yes
| indeed II is. If we know how to enjoy"
h-x
and the little girl FASTENED to help them
There she was in the midst of them laugh
| ing and talking to the women, and helping
| them to pile up the hay on the shoulders of
/ broad-backed man. who then conveyed
| his burden to pear-shaped stack. OsN aid
Everard watched his Companion for a mo-
| ment, and then, quite forgetting his dig
nifty as an amateur tenor singer he too
| lent his aid, and did not leave off until his
| compa sank exhausted on the ground
oh" she laughed, what delightful work
for very short time. Come along; let us
go into that brown chalet Wonder and SIX
| for some milk. / am simply parched with
| thirst. Thank you, but 1 prefer to carry
my own flowers
What an independent little lady you
! are" he said.
1T is quite necessary in our profession, /
can assure you,' she said, with a tone of
mischief in her voice. THAT reminds me
that my profession is evidently not looked
upon with any favor by the visitors of the
hotel i am heartbroken to think that
have not won the esteem of that lady in the
billy-cock hat. What will she say to you
for coming out with me? And what will
she say OF me for allowing YOU to come ?
l wonder whether she will say, How un-
feminine! / wish could hear herr
don suppose you care" he said You
| seem TO be wild little bird"
Il don't care what a person of that de-
| scription says" replied his companion
what on earth made You contradict the
major at dinner last night?' he asked. II
was not at the table, but some one told me
of the incident; and / felt very sorry about
| 1t. What could you know of Miss Thyra
| Flowerdew?"
Well. considering that she is in my rro-
fession. of course 1 know something about
her.. said the little girl.
"Confound IL all,'' he said rather rudely
| surely there is some difference between
the bellows-blower and the organist''
Absolutely none" she answered-"merely
variation Of the original themev'
AS she spoke she knocked at the door of
! the chalet, and asked the old dame TO give
| them some milk. They sat in the stube and
the little girl looked about, and admired
| the spinning wheel and the quaint chairs.
and the queer old jugs. and the pictures on
! the wall.
"Ah, but you shall see the other room. -
the old peasant woman said, and she led
| them into a small apartment which was
evidently intended for a study II bore evil
dences of unusual taste and care and one
could see that some loving hand had been
trying to make ii a real sanc:um of re-
fnement. There was even a small piano.
A carved book-rack was fastened to the
wan
The old dame did not speak at first; she
| gave her guests time TO recover from the
establishment which she felt they must he
experiencing; then she pointed proudly to
the piano.
Il bought that for my daughters" she
SAID, with strange mixture of sadness
and triumph. Il wanted to keep them at
home with me- and 1 saved ana saved and
got enough money to buy the piano. They
had always wanted to have one and /
thought they would then stay with me-
They liked music and books, and 1 knew
they would be glad to have a room of their
own, where they might read and play and
study; and so l gave them this corner
We'll, mother. asked the little girl land
where are they this afternoon
Ah"' she answered. sadly, they did not
care to stay. But il was natural enough;
and L was foolish to grieve. Besides. they
And then they play to your" asked the
little girl, gently.
They say the piano is out of tune" the
old dame said. Il don't know. Perhaps
you can tell
The little girl sat down to the piano and
struck few chords.
Yes" she said, lit is badly out of tune
Give me the tuning hammer. j am sorry :"
she added, smiling at Oswald Everard but
1 cannot neglect my duty. Don't wait for
me-"
II will wait for YOU" he said eulleply:
and he went into the balcony and smok led
his pipe. and tried to possess his soul in
patience.
When she had faithfully done her work
she played few simple melodies such as
she knew the old woman would love and
understand: and she turned away when she
saw that the listeners eyes were moist.
Play once again." the old woman whis-
pered. Il am dreaming of beautiful things"
so the little tuner touched the keys again
with all the tenderness of an angel
Tell your daughters" she said, as she
rose to say goodbye. that the piano is now
In good tune. Then they will play to you
the next time they come"
Il shall always remember You, made
moiselle," the old woman said; and almost
unconsciously, she took the childish face
and kissed it,
Oswald Everard was waiting for his COM
panion in the bayfield,; and when she apol-
oGized to him for this little professional
intermezzo, as she called it he recovered
from his sulkiness and readiusted his
nerves, which the noise of the tuning had
somewhat disturbed.
1t was very good of you to tune the old
DANES piano." he said. looking at her with
renewed interest
Some one had to do it. of course" she
answered, brightly, land / am glad the
chance fell to me. What a comfort il is TO
thlnX that the next time those daughters
come to see her they will play to her and
make her very happy-poor old dear!'
You puzzle me greatly" he said. II can
~ f.arf H. 9.