The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1897-03-03
A SONG STORY.

mother would love to have nesting at her
side and clothe in dainty, childish gar
ments. But Nellie had no mother to caress
her-no tender, loving hand TO smooth her
tangled curls Her home was garnet in q
London sIuIn, and her mother had died
years ago, when Nellie was a tiny blue
eyed babby- And now her only friend was
a roguish little Irish lad, who, with his
merry dark eyes and laughing face, had
won her heart more than a year ago, when
one bleak November day some rough street
boys had wantonly upset her basket of
flowers, and Mike had sturdily come 20 the
rescue, scattering the offenders left and
right with flourish OF his muddy broom
Ever since that memorable day Mike
had been enshrined a hero in Nellie's
heart, and no knight of old had ever more
loyal devotion or = truer lady love than
this curly headed little crossing sweeper,
who, in his turn, Regarded the sweet faced
little flower girl as something too fair and
gentle for this rough, workaday world and
treated her with a tender chivalry which
was very quaint and winsome, and which
often evoked amused comments from the
passerSby.
They were always together in their lei
sure hours In summer time the little COM
rades might be seen wandering side by
side in the public parks or seated quietly
in some out OF the way nook, the dark
cG1r1s and the golden head nestled close to-
gether, while Nellie told wondrous stories
to her eager little friend or sang to him, in
her sweet, childish treble, fragments of the
hymns she had learned at the mission
school
Mike never tired of listening and would
beg again and again for Just one more
his dark eyes growing wide and radiant as
Nellie sang of the streets of gold and of
the joys which awaited the children in
''the kingdom called home. -
''How can we get there, Nelhe?" he
questioned eagerly one day. do you know
the way.'
Nellie shook her head little sadly.
1--WE can't find out the way until we die,
Mike, dear. Then an angel with golden
crown viii come and take our hand and
show US the way"
Mixes saucy face grew grave.
81 wish we could go, NelIie-you and
me- he whispered. You could sing
there, Nellie, without policemen telling US
to move on, couldn't your" Then anx-
iously, as n new thought occurred, There
won't be no policemen there, Nellie, will
theres''
Another shake OF the golden head
''Of course not, Mike. There'n be no
need of them Everybody good and happy
up there. Oh, Mike, think of itl'' clapping
her thin little hands in an ecstasy of de-
light, flowers all a-grOwin and a-blOwin;
roses and lilies that never fadel Oh,
doesn't it all seem too good to be trues"
Mike watched his little comrades shin
ing eyes and radiant face and felt q strange
sinking at his heart as he noticed how
fragile the little form had become and
heard the short, quick cough which came
from the pale lips ever and anon. Was
Nellie going 70 die and leave hirns he Won
dered vaguely. All, how dreary life would
be without herI A quick sob rose in his
throat, and he brushed his small, rough
hand resolutely across his eyes
All that night Nellie's little wan face
haunted him, banishing sleep from his
eyes At length, as he lay tossing on the
heap of straw which formed his bed, a
brilliant IDEA entered his curly head Mel
lie must go to the sea- He had heard of
wonderful cures which change CT air had
wrought There vas Tim, the lame boy,
at the end of the court-why, he had not
been like the same child since that three
weeks visit TO MaFgate. And cid Joe, the
shoemaker, was never tired Of telling how
the fresh, pure air had made 4 new man.
of him Yes, Nellie must certainly go to
the sea. and he, Mike, must find the
money. This settled, he fell asleep.
Early and late the little fellow toiled,
carefully boarding every halfpenny he
could save, running errands, sweeping
crossings, selling papers, counting 10 labor
too much which brought an addition TO
his treasured hoard
Meanwhile the bright summer days
melted into autumn, the sunshine faded,
to give place TO chilling winds and damp
mists. All this did not tend to improve
Nellie's cough A bright spot of vivid col
or burned on the white face, and the blue
eyes shone with unnatural brilliancy.
Mike noted the change with great salts
faction
You're getting such 4 rosy face, Nel1I'
he exclaimed gladly. And your eyes shine
like two big stars. Thcre'Il be no need OF
street lamps soon" he added, with true
Irish gallantry.
Nellie smiled the sweet, patient smile
which Mike loved so dearly She would
not pain him by telling of the slcepless
nights and torturing cough, of the strange,
chilly feeling at her heart and the weary
aching of her wasted limbs
With that divine unselfshness which
characterizes some natures, she bravely
strove TO hide from him the true state of
affairs and would still try 20 tell, night
after night, IN faint, weak tones, the story
they both loved 50 well
One cold winter night when the snow
was softly falling, covering the muddy
streets with a pure white mantle, Mike
crept to the old familiar corner to hear yet
once again the old sweet tale.
Clear and bright were NeIlie's blue eyes,
ard softly her low voice rose and fell as
she told in tender accents of the fadeless
flowers and the golden Threshold where
children Were always at play" And
eagerly Mike listened, taking the little
chilled hands in both his own, but soon her
voice began to falter, her face grew wan
and pale, = the golden head dropped wea-
rily, and over the bright eyes a thick mist
seemed TO fall nike grew frightened.
Nellie, Nelliel - he cried breathlessly
"Are you i'll? On, Nellie, me own darlin,
speak TO IneI''
The old sweet smile 1ickered for an in
slant around the pzls-f1ps.
Kiss me, Mike, y she whispered family,
and with that one
Kiss On the gold crowned forehead
He knew that the angel had come
To show her the beautiful pathway
That leads to the KINGDOM called hnrna.