The western sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1887-1926, 1897-04-15
A SONG STORY.

of a great caUy uISru W earn
their daily bread.
She. a timld little maiden, with slender,
graceful limbs and a wealth of waving
golden na:r-just the kind of child a fond
mott er would love to have nesting at her
side and clothe in dainty, childish gar
ynents But Nellie had no mother to caress
ner--no tender, loving hand to smooth her
tangled curls. Her home was garnet in
London Sum- and her mother had died
wears 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, hae
won her heart more than year ago, Whe1
one bleak November day some rough stree
boys had wantonly upset her basket II
flowers, and Mike had sturdlly come TO die
rescue, scattering the offenders lef' and
right with flourish of his muddy broom.
Ever since that memorable lay Mike
| had been enshrined as hero a Nellie s
heart. and no knight of old BID ever more
loyal devotion or a truer lady love than
| this curly headed little erossing sweeper,
who in his turn, regard cd the sweet faced
little flower girl as soJzethlng too fa1r ana
! gentle for this rough workaday world ana
| treated her with 3, tender chivalry which
was very quaint and winsome, and Which
\ often evoked amused comments from 80
!; passersby.
! They were always together in thsir lei
sure hours. In summer time tie bttle 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
! curls and the golden he'd nestled close to
gether, while Nellie told wondrous storles'
! to her eager little friend or sang to him, in
her sweet, childish treble, fragments of the
| hymns she had learned at the mlsslon
| school.
| Mike never tired of listening and would
| beg again and again for just one more,
! his dark eyes growing wide and radiant as
i Nellie sang of the streets of gold and OF
! the Joys which awaited the children In
| 1.-The kingdom called home. I"
'Hoy can we get there, Nellie?" he
! questioned eagerly one day. "Do you know
| the way?"
| Nellie shook her head little sadly.
''We can't find out the way until we die,
| Mike, dear Then an angel with a golden
crown will come and take our hand and
| show us the way"
| Mikes saucy face grew grave
81 wish we could go, Nellie-you ana
1 me-" he whispered. You could sing
| there. Nellie, without policemen telling Us
TO move on, couldn't your" Then anx-
| iously, as a new thought occurred, There
| won t be no policemen there, Nellie, will
there?''
Another shake of the golden head.
"Of course not, Mike. Theren be nc
need of them. Everybody good and happy
| up there. Oh, Mike, think of iti' clapp1ng
| her thin little hands in an ecstasy of de
light, ''fowers all a-growin and a-blowin,
| roses and lilies that never fade! Oh,
doesn't it all seem too good to be true?''
] Mike watched his little comrades shin
| ing eyes and radiant face and felt a 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. Wac
| Nellie going to die and leave him? he won
dered vaguely. All, how dreary life would
| be without herl 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, q
| brilliant idea entered his curly head. Mel
lie must go to the sea. He had heard Of
| wonderful cures which change of air had
| wrought. There was 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 Margate. And old Joe, the
| shoemaker, was never tired of telling how
| the fresh, pure air had made a new man
of linn. Yes, Nellie must certainly go te
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 hi
could save, running errands, sweeping
crossings, selling papers, counting no Labor
too much which brought an addition tx
his treasured hoard
Meanwhile the bright summer day!
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 blut
| eyes shone with unnatural brilliancy.
Mike noted the change with great salts
faction.
YOU'RE getting such rosy face, Nell: =
he exclaimed gladly. "And your eyes shin,
| like two big stars. There'n be no need o
| street lamps soon,' he added, with trut
Irish gallantry.
Nellie smiled the sweet, patient smile
which Mike loved SO dearly. She would
not pain him by telling OF the sleeples
nights and torturing cough, of the strange
chilly feeling at her heart and the wear.
| aching of her wasted limbs.
With that divine unselfishness which
J characterizes some natures, she bravel,
| strove to hide from him the true state O.
affairs and would still try to tell, nigh
after night, in faint, weak tones, the stor!
they both loved so well.
One cold winter n1SnG, Wnen Inc SNOW
was softly falling covering the mudd!
streets with a pure white mantle, Mix
crept to the old familiar corner to hear We
once again 1.-THE old sweet tale"
Clear and bright were Nellie's blue eyes
and softly her low voice rose and fell a
she told in tender accents Of the fadeles
flowers and the golden Threshold wher'
"children were always at play" Ant
eagerly Mike listened, taking the littl
u, ErrAc
voice began to falter, her face grew wal
and pale" the golden head dropped wea
rily, and over the bright eyes thick mis-
seemed to fall. Mike grew frightened.
''Nellie, Nellie!'' he cried breathlessly
"Are you illP Oh, Nellie, me own darlin
speak to mep'
The old sweet smile flickered for an in
slant around the pale lips.
"Kiss me, Mike" she whispered family
and with that one
| Kiss the gold crowned forehead
| He knew that the angel had come
To show her the Beautiful pathway
That leads to the kingdom called home.
| -nnoan