The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1897-07-17

gether again. ito expect the child to read
and draw her w conclusions while her
head is full of fishing! II there are any fish
in the brook. she won't catch them. When
she comes back disappointed, and says:
What am / TO do HOW the Disasters at
Sea- will have a chance. l make it a rule
never to boast, but il there is a thing that /
understand, it the management of children.
Why didn't have a large family"
Attended by the faithful Susan, Kitty
baited her hook and began to fish where the
waters of. the brook were o~vershadowed by
trees.
A little arbor covered by a matched roof,
and having walls of wooden lattice-work
hidden by creepers climbing over them in
side and out, offered an attractive PLACE of
rest on this sheltered side of tho garden.
Having brought her work with her, the
nnrsemaid retired to the summer house and
diligently piled her needle, looking at Kitty
from time to time through the open door.
The air was delightfully."- cool, the pleasant
ripping of the brook fell soothingly on the
ear, the seat in the summer house received a
sitter with the softl. yielding Submission of
elastic wires. Susan had just finished her
early dinner; in mind and body alike this
good girl was entirely and deservedly at her
Ntt'S' - hiSIs ottSNSSitlS 1CSlCV5 IN SSC-
lids began to show a tendency downward;
her truant needlework escaped from her fin
gers and lay lazily on her lap. She snatched
it up with n start and sewed with severe reso-
luton until her thread was exhausted. The
reel was ready at her side; she took it up for
a fresh supply, and imnocently rested her
head against the leafy and tlowery wall of
the arbor. Was it thought that gradually
closed her eyes again, or was it sleepp In
either case Susan was lost to all sense of
passing events; and Susan's breathing be-
came unsteady regular, emulous of the mus.
ical regularity of the brook.
AS n lesson In patience the art of angling
pursued In a shallow brook has It's moral
uses. Kitty tished and waited, and renewed
the bait, and tried again with Il command of
temper which would have been a novelty in
Susan's experience, II Susan had been
awake. But the end which comes to all
things came also to Kitty's patience. Leav-
ing her rod on the bank. she let the line and
hook take care OF themselves. and wandered
away in search of some new amusement.
Lingering here and there to gather flowers
nom the beds as she passed them, Kitty was
stopped by a ~shrnbbery, with a rustic seat
placed near II, which marked the limits of
tia garden on that side. The path that she
had been following led her farther and far
Their away from the brook, but still left 1t
well in view. She could see on her right
hand the clumsy old wooden bridge which
crossed the stream and served as a means of
communication for the servants and the
tradespeople between the cottage and the
village, on the lower ground a mile away.
The child felt hot and tired. She rested
herself on the bench. and spreading the
lowers by her side, began to arrange them
In the form of a nosegay. Still true to her
love for Sydney, she had planned to present
the nosegay to her mother, Offering the gift
as an excuse for returning to the forbidden
subject Of her governess and for asking
when they might hope to see each other
again.
Choosing flowers and then rejecting them,
trying other colors and wondering whether
She had accomplished a change for the bet
ter, Kitty WAS startled by the sound of a
voice calling to her from the direction Of the
brock.
She looked round and saw a gentleman
crossing the bridge. He asked the way to
Brightwatcr cottage.
There was something in his voice that at
tracted ller-how or why, at her age, she
never thought of inquiring. Eager and ex-
''SS1 ~ s"' NV hip lawn MliICll luy UCs
tween her and the brook before she answered
the question.
The gentleman approached her and sud-
denly stood still. Kitty said: 'vThis is the
cottage, sir; do you want to see mamma?n
The last woros fell family from her lips:
She hardly knew whether she was frightened
or surprised. There the stranger stood with
his eyes fixed on her, thinner and paler, and
not looking happy-and yet like, OH, so like
her lost fatheri
His sorrow1ul eyes rested kindly on her.
Inc child ventured to say: 'Do YOU know
me sirr'
He answered in the saddest voice that
Kitty ever heard: Any little girl, what
makes you think ! know yon?'
She was at a loss how to reply, fearing to
distress hin, She c-lld only say: You arc
so like my poor papa
he shook and %shuddered, as IL she had
said something TO brighten him. lie took
her hand. On that hot day his fingers felt
as cold as il it had been winter time. He
led her back to the seat she had left. 'I'm
tired, my dear" he Eaid. Shall we sit
downY' 1t was surely true that he was
tired? He seemed hardly able to lift one
foot after the other; Kitty pitied him. Il
think you must be ill.," she said, us they
took their places, side by side, on the bench.
mo; NOT i'll. Only weary, and perhaps n
little afraid of frightening you.' He kept
her hand in his hand, and patted it from
TINS to time. MY dear, why did you say
poor papa when you spoke of your father
just now?'
My father is dead, sir"
He turned his face away from her, and
pressed both hands on his breast, as IL he felt
some dreadful pain there and vas trying to
hide it. But he mastered the pain; and he
said a strange thing to her-very gently. but
still II was strange. He wished to know
who had told her that her father was dead.
"GiandEhamma told me-"
do y remember what grpndmamma
said?'
'Yes-she told me papa was drowned at
sea-"
lie said something to himself. and said it
twice over. 'tNot her mother! Thank God,
not her mother!" What did he mean?
Kitty looked and looked at him, and Won
dered and wondered. He put his arm round
her. Come near to me-" he said. Don't
be afraid OF me, my dear" She moved
nearer, and showed him that she was not
afraid. The poor man seemed hardly to I'M
ueistaHu iel. LIS eyes grew Gill; lie SlSl-
cd like a person in distress; he said: Your
father would have kissed you, little one, if
he had been alive. You say l am like your
father. May l kiss youp'
She put her hands on his shoulder, and
lifted her face to him. In the instant when
he kissed her the child knew him. Her
heart beat suddenly with an ,overpowering
delight; she started back from his embrace.
s'That's how papa used to kiss meI' she
cried. oh! you arc papa! Not drowned;
not drownedV' She flung her arms round
his neck andlleld him as if She would never
let go again. dear papal Poor, lost pa
pal" His tears fell on her face; he sobbcd
over her. "Afy sweet darling! My own lit
tie Kittyl'
The hystericol passion that had overcome
her father filed her with pIteous surprise.
How strange, how dreadful, that he should
cry-tllat he should be so sorry when she
was so glad! She took her little handker-
chief out of the pocket of her pinafore and
dried his eyes. Are you thinking OF the
cruel sea, papap No! the good sea, the kind,
bright beautiful sea that has given you back
to me and to mamina-V"
They had forgotten her motherl and Kitty