The Black Hills union. [volume] (Rapid City, Pennington County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1889-1904, 1895-09-13

velvet boxes. I wis my faver was !
play1n' faver. Oh, dear! / wis, nv
iayer was q faver like uvcr dirlses. 81
WIS you was my faver."
And to-day, as the little girl crept
slowly down to the studio, her heart
lGnged as never before for a father
ike the father Of other children. For
poor, wee sinner!-mamma was out
delivering work and Satan had found
work for the idle baby fingers. She
had dropped the father in the velvet
box, she had dropped him on the floor:
and he was broken into a hundred
fragments.
She knew that mamma would weep,
she knew that mamma would grieve.
and she dreaded the effects of her dis
obedience. And, furthermore, the little
child felt she would deserve the misery
OF seeing her mothers grief, for time
and again had m warned her to
leave the velvet box alone.
Me don't like dear to cry" said the
little neighbor; me wis me had a
faver what wouldn't break. Me wis
me wis.,
The studio door was unlocked, but
the artist was absent when his little
neighbor entered. He had gone after
some color that he had suddenly need
ed, no doubt; the child often found the
studio empty, SO it did not surprise her
in the least. Leaving the door ajar
that she might hear m when she
passed through the hall, or her friend
when he returned. she began her usual
tour of inspection.
There was a new canvas on the easel.
a very large canvas with a great many
people on it, some outlined, some dead
colored, and some nearly completed.
The picture represented, though the
little neighbor did lot know, a scene
from the verses of a very famous poet,
and was intended to express the folly
OF strife, and the trouble that awaits
those who do not let the cloak of love
hide one another's shortcomings. And
there was one man who seemed to
stand very near the little neighbor.
He was a tall man, with blue eyes and
fair curls, like the little neighbours,
but oh! his eyes were so sad, so full of
vain regret!
The little neighbor looked at this
man long and fxedly. How familiar
that face seemed to be-! Where had
she seen that face before? Her little
brain turned owe all the events of her
four years of existence. Where?
Where? Where had the child seer that
face before? Suddenly the little one
remembered.
"Faver!" she cried, loudly, gladly.
'Faver-me faver!"
Yes, her father, older, sadder than
the father in the velvet box, but still
the father of the artists little neigh
Dor. But how had he come on the
artists canvas when the child had left
him broken in the velvet box? The
little girl did not know, the little girl
did not care; her darling was whole
again aud before her in all his fresh
ness and beauty-that was enough to
know. A. hassock stood near, and,
dragging it to the canvas, the child
stood upon it, and her face was level
with the painted face. "Faver!" she
cooed, lovingly. "Me's faver!!''
The rosy lips touched the painted
face in a tender, loving kiss, and then
the door opened and the artist and
another stood upon the threshold.
"Marjory Somers!!" the artist
gasped, as the little neighbor turned
to greet him. The child's lips were
wet with paint, and the ''faver'' on the
anvas had been utterly obliterated by
the child's kiss.
ME faver!' cried the little neighbor.
"He's me faver."
Then the other brushed past the ar
4 fist into the room. His face was like
the face spoiled by the child's kiss
like the face Of the broken father in
the velvet box.
Insects on the Track.