Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1895-08-29
HIS LITTLE NEIGHBOR.
BY OLA G. roBEY.

1
good to look upon, the queer old artis
who didn't care for children, was il
terested in the small maiden, an
after little enticed her into his stud
and was very pleasant and kind to tn
little girl, whose mother did dressmal
ing, and lived in the two stutfy room
ct the end Of the hall above.
A grim, lonely old bachelor was tn!
artist. Rumor said that once upon
time he had loved fair young gil
and that she had Tilted him for
younger lover; but no one knew tn
name Of the girl or the name Of tn
man she welded, though Miss Marker
who kept millinery shop on the frs
floor, told tale something like this
The week after the widow and he
daughter moved into the Won Alstyn,
fats, that week, one day, the it'll
neighbours mother and the little cir
had been to deliver some sewing; an,
the artist had been to the Italian quar-
ter after model. 1t so happened tina
the widow and her child, and the arts
and his model, met just inside the doc
Of the first hall.
This is the pa inter-man, DEAR" sale
the little neighbor, clutching he
mothers skirts to attract her atten
ton. 1.-THE nice man in the album
dear, The painter.man, dear, wht
gave me the candy and the beenan
ers,"
"Huah, Mariory" said her mamma
her pretty, young cheeks ablaze
with embarrassment and annoyance.
She disengaged her skirts from the
grasp Of the little fat hands,
Mamma told you she did not wish
Tor new friends Mamma does not wish
to meet this artist said the widow
looking meaningly into the eyes Of her
daughters new friend.
but, dear" persisted the little
neighbor, when me told you how he
said What q zemblance, you said you
wondered II 1t could be-you know who
you said, dear. And now you can ask
him, dear, can't she, Mr.. Painter.
man2"
And the artist, returning the wild.
owls Icy gaze with interest, replied
Your mother does not need to ask"
And then, suddenly, he stepped for
ward, the anger gone from his sad,
wrinkled, old face; a great, wonderful
love and pity In Its place.
Mrs Somers Mrs. Somers," he said,
clutching the hard, nsedle-roughened
hands Of the little naighbor's mother,
may we not, at least, be friends?'
Then mammals eyes filled with tears,
and, lifting her daughter in her arms,
she darted up the stairs. But at the
top Of the first fight she paused, re-
pentiug her haste.
my baby may" she said, with q
smile.
But, very few people in VonAlstyne's
fats believed the fairy tales OF Miss
Marker.
When the widow and the artist met
on the stairs they bowed, but that
was all; and, though the little neigh.
boris mamma gave permission OCCASION
ally, very often without permission the
little neighbor stole down to the
studio to have chats with the man who
painted pictures.
DO you know" said the little neigh
Dor one day, that my papa isn't in
the ground, like mamma said he WASP"
mop" inquired the artist more for
the sake Of replying than because he
believed the statement.
NO" affirmed the little neighbor,
"he isn't. Last night when mamma
fnked me was asleep her looked him
out Of little velvet box and kissted
him. Yes, she did. 'Phare is 90, darr-
lin john? her said. And then her
cried, an me cried, too. Me set right
up, cause me feeled bad, an me cried
me yollered, an mamma, she kissted
me, an we bofe kissed me faver, Ne
faver's a boofer fayer, Yes, he Ia"
II suppose So" inditferently re-
sponded the artist, going on with his
painting. II don't remember him"
And the little neighbours blue eyes
opened widely. 1t seemed SO strange
that every one did not know of
mammals treasure.
me does" she said. Me does"
And the artist, thinking of the
father, not the picture Of the father,
sighed.
yes" he remarked, absently, per
haps you do; though you were mere
babe"
One other day, one warm uncomfort-
able day in August, Mrs. Brent, who
lived in the very uppermost fiat, and
who was the mother of three little
girls herself, came down to the door OF
,he widows rooms and asked for the
of the widows little
laughter
my husband and l." Mrs. Brent said,
we are going to spend the day at his
ather's farm. We thought IT would do
he babes all so much good, you
lnow"
So the little neighbor spent day on
Long Island farm, and the next day
Ter friend the artist heard all about
he COWS and ducks and other rural
and" said the child, everyone has
AYERS IN der tuntryI boo'er iavers
What plays wifi EN-, an Isn't always in
elvet boxes. | wis my faver was
'layin' faver Oh, dear! l wis my
aver was a faver like uver dirlses l |
Wis you was my faver."
And to-day, as the little girl crept
lowly down to the studio, her heart
ongcd as never before for a father
Ike the father Of other children. For
poor, wee sinner, mamma was out
a irarirn. ,nnrls md gnAa., LII f....al