Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1897-06-03

ing to come again soon.
They kept their promise, and nearly
every afternoon was spent with Olive,
who told them fairy stories or taught
Sylvia to make dolls clothes.
Almira Powers grew much attached
to the quiet, respectful boy, who helped
her shell peas or pick beans, and who
often filled her woodboX.
But Olives heart went out to merry.
willful Sylvia.
The seedlings on the other side of
the fence grew more frequent, and
sometimes lasted from morning till
night with little cessation.
One day the children were playing in
their own yard when suddenly Maggie
rushed out of the house, and, selling
Sylvia by the arm, gave her slap in
the face.
David came valiantly to his sisters
rescue, but received blow which made
him cry out in pain.
Then suddenly q tall, gaunt figure
jumped the fence, and, swooping down
like an enraged eagle, encircled both
children in her arms.
1t was Almira, Powers, who had from
her window witnessed Magg:e's attack
or the children and had rushed to their
rescue.
You tech them children ngin, if you
dare" she cried, her very hair standing
out straight in her wrath.
You miser'b sneallin' critter, can
hardly keep my hands off of you!"
"Come, David" she continued, talk
ing Sylvia in her arms, come right over
to our house an stay till yer pa
comes, an then we'll tell him a few
things he don't know
Maggie hurled few explosives after
them, of which Almira took no notice
whatever.
Olive took the trembling, sobbing
child in her lap and rocked her gently
to sleep, while Almira gave David Il
piece of maple sugar large enough to
wreck the health of any ordinary child.
The mother feeling awolle in Olives
heart and filed her with bitter ycarn-
ing as she looked down, into the tear
stained little face. The child's gentle
breathing was now ard then broken by
o. heavy sigh
Olive held the child until the father
came, dreaming many tender dreams
as she clasped the tiny form to her
bosom.
When Mr.. Leonard came home he
sought his children, and listened sadly
to the story his neighbor told him.
"Of course Maggie must CO." he said,
decidedly. "Why did the children
never tell me?"
Tears filled his eyes when Olive told
him what David had said.
"Poor little fellow" he said. 81 can
never thank you enough for your inter-
est in my little ones, you and Miss Pow
ers."
"Wen," said Almira, ct amt
heather, an I couldn't see them young
ones abused by that critter."
a few days later Mr.. Leonard went
over at sunset to tell the two women
that he had secured a kindly, middle
aged servant to take care of his house
and children.
lie was a painfully shy man, so Olive
talked the more TO set him at his ease,
and they soon became quite friendly.
When ne went away he presented box
of Strawberries very awllwardly,
sDealiing again Of their kindness to the
children.
SO it came ABOUT quite naturally for
Mr.. Leonard to spend The evening fre-
qucntly with his two neighbors, or
sometimes with Olive alone. She was
so frank and self-forgetful that he felt
more at ease with her than he had ever
felt with any woman before.
Sometimes en- Sunday evenings Mr.
Leonard brought tie children, and they
all sang while Olive played the sera-
phine as Of yore. But Mr.. Leopard's
voice was deep baritone.
One night, as they sat alone Oh the
little porch in the moonlight, he told
Olive his sad story.
Years before, he had fallen in love
with a pretty working girl, who, he
believed, also loved him. He found too
late that she cared nothing for him,
and had only married him for his
money She did not seem 10 care for
her children, either, but found them
burden.
Mr.. Leonard tried vainly to win her
love. She grew more and more dis
contented, till one day, when David
was two years old and Sylvia baby
in the cradle, he came home one night
to find his house dark and desolate,
his babies crying and his wife gone.
Two years after he received letter
telling him of his wife's penitence and
begging for help:
lie went to her al once, md found
her poor and dying.
She never asked for her children.
lie took care CT her till she died, then
buried her, and placed stone at her
grave.
81 ought to have known" he said'
humbly, that n pretty little thing like
her couldn't love a homely, ungainly
man like me-"
A great wave of tenderness and pity
for the lonely man surged up in Olives
womanly heart.
So she said, eagerly: THAT don't
make no difference with woman,
Mr.. Leonard! She don't mind how a
good, kind man with great kind heart
like yourn looks! Not if she's the
right kind"
He looked up at her quecrly. "Do
you mean that?" he asked, softly.
Yes" replied Olive, earnestly, never
realizing what dangerous ground she
was treading.
He held her hand for a moment, when
he went away, saying: "Thank You,
Olive, you don't know how much your