The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1895-02-28


this time.
I'VE didn't have anything to do with
them flowers, mister" said the spokes-
man, apologetically. I'VE didn't put
them there. The dead baby's little
sister did There she is now
A little girl about ten years old was
running up to the little group. She had
just noticed what was taking place.
With a shrek of anguish she threw her
self upon the desecrated grave.
oh! oh! oh! My poor dear forget-me-
nots! What is there to make my little
angel sister think about me now?"
She was digging in the ground with
her childish fingers, vainly endeavor-
ing to rescue her beloved flowers from
the detilement into which they had
been crushed. Henderson stopped over
and tried to caress her, but she flew at
him, scratching and biting like wild
cat.
You killed my baby sisters forget
me-nots! I'll kill you!'
The powerful man picked up the
raging child and by main force lifted
her to his bosom. Little by little the
child's struggles subsidized, and they
were sobbing convulsively together.
Little girl" he'spolle in broken ac
cents, 81 had forget-me-nots - on
grave-once myself-and came all the
way to Texas to forget about the grave
and the flowers-but if you love the
flOwers-Ill get you some more, and
III never tear EN- up again for you as
long as | live"
The byStanders were strong men, but
they were weak enough to have respect
for the agony of a genuine grief.
Without a word they turned away from
Henderson and the girl, and left the
two sobbing together.
Il remember one who persisted"
Doubtless, reader, you recall the
marked passage in "Locksley Hall" l
know nothing more about the matter
than yeu do, but somehow | cannot
but believe that the marked passage
and the scene in the little graveyard
on the open prairie have their connec-
ton.
The town people were rather divided
in their opinions in regard to the scene
just described. but there were more I'M
favorable opinions formed than favor
able ones. Most people agreed that
maa who would kick dead babys
grave is very mean kind of man, and
the idea of bitter memories in regard
| to the blue fOrget-mc-notS was received
with very large grain of caution.
Perhaps the disfavor with which Hen
dersOn now began to be regarded was
not made any less by the fact that
! financial affairs seemed to be going very
badly with him. He had never seemed
to have a great deal of money, but for
awhile he seemed able to keep up with
his board bill without any trouble.
About this time, though. he began to
get behind with it, and as the months
| went by he got further and still further
! behind. He never had a cent for most
purposes. but somehow he always
seemed able to get as much whisky as
he needed. 1t was limited around that
he sold off small pieces of jewelry and
such wearing apparel as he could
spare in order to get it. This was only
a surmise on the part of most people,
| but as Henderson s wearing apparel
grew steadily less and less in quantity
it was probably a correct one. His
| landlord was lenient, good-hearted
old gentleman, and would probably
| have waited indefinitely for his board
money had it not been for an event
which occurred when several months
board was due. 1t was in connection
with little Annie, the girl whose for
! get-me-nots he had so rtlthlessly de-
stroyed. He had formed great
friendship for the child, and she for
him. They were much together, but
one week, during the hottest part of
August, she failed to como around to
the hotel to see him. He missed her
for several days, but probably thought
! little of it until one Friday evening her
widowed mAher sent for him to come
to her house. When he reached the
wretched hovel he found that the child
was dead.
"Oh. Mr.. Henderson," exclaimed the
anguished mother, wringing her hands,
Annie thought that much of you she
said must send for you when she was
gone. She said to tell you you needn't
plant no forgit-me-nots on her grave.
but roses. o>lnything else you wanted"
III put out forget-me-nots, mad
am said Henderson. COMPRISING his
lips as he spoke. when is the little
one to be buried?"
Sure an | don't know. That's the
hard part of it, to see the little angel
there so still and white. and not to be
able to put her under the ground.
There is not a dollar in the house to
pay for the funeral"
Have the funeral tomorrow even
ing, madam. I'll settle the expenses.
| How much will it taSe?"
Tin dollars at Taste and there isn't
but thirty cents in the house.
Henderson walked sadly away from
the house of death. That night about
ten o'clock he entered the gambling
room back of the principal saloon in
the little town.
Sorry, M. Henderson" said the
the barkeeper, but your credits run
out. Cash or no Ticker"
81 don't want credit. | want permits
sion to sing here"
"Sing?" queried the barlleeper, in