The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1897-03-19

aSer, see emInglN great distance oil:
Accept my compliments. madame. /
shall be glad TO offer you a salary of
ten pounds a week. am sure YOU will
have success TN success fou." he
said. turning to the orchestra, who
gracefully waved his fiddle, bowed low
and replied: Sans doute." Poor wom-
an. she looked into their eyes TO see If
they We're mocking her; then, CON
Einced of their good faith. she mustered
all her strength, and with the strange
Surging still in her ears. smiled. said
Il thank YOU" turned quickly and left
the theater. How she got home was
always a mystery To her. Martha
heard a faint pull at the bell, haStcned
to the door and found her mistress
pale as death, but with her eyes wide
open and 4 set smile on her lips She
put her To bed, held her quivering body
till by degrees the tortured soul begaa
TO still itself and the overweight brain
found relief in such healing tears as
had not come before in all those
strained days of trial. And now there
was practicing and preparation of COS
tunes, then the first appearance and
the many succeeding, all iustifying tn
Gradually all pressing need. the in
dcbtcdness, the grinding care disap-
peared. and she could have been com
paratively happy.
All day. save for the morning hour of
rehearsal, she kept Mazie beside her.
It was MaiZie who made a daily holo-
Caust of unopened billets-doux and
adorned her nursery with the flowers
that invariably accompanied them. IL
was MaiZIe who first enjoved, almost in
SP'red, the dances she invented. and
who first praised her Sweet Mumsie"
in her artistic costumes. Every even
ing she left the child with a new pang.
though she could not but feel her 81 f..
with good Martha, and flew on the
wings OF love to her bedside on her re
turn. Resolutely she shut her eyes 10
all that displeased her in her new sur
roundings, and soon her dancing be
came to her an infatuatiOn. For th,.
time she was on the stage all else was
forgotten. Her grief fell from her like
dismal garment, and she stood the
perSonification of laughing youth
grace and Joy. Always garbCd in white
and with Ii gauZy, wing-lTle scarf
la PalOma' they called her after her
first daHce-she fioated in AN atmos-
phere chaste and poetic. too delicate to
bc misunderstood, and. as before. e zen
the women were charmed Yes. she
night have become content, but daily
Maizie grew weaker and more fragile.
and her heart failed within her. She
would take the child in her despairing
arms and hold her so close that the
withaI IN the embrace. for she loved her
"Mumsie" with a deep devotion, and
seemed with a strange prcScience to un-
dcrstand much.
One uiGht-it was about three months
after her debut-shc left home a little
lighter of heart than usual Maizic hal
been fcNcriSh all day. and had grown
quieter toward evening. and they had
Lad a royal game Of rumps and big
bio hug and kiss" when she left
Toward the close Of the evcning she he
an 10 "ruw III at ease. and. throwing
Ger fur-Iiued mantle about her. without
changing her costume. she left the
theater hurriedIy, and, jumping into a
hanSom. was driven home in all haste.
The front door was open. From the hall
came the voice of her physician:
Go quickly, or she will not know
her
''Who viii not know whom?" she
said. to herself who will not know
whom" she reiterated to the physi-
elan. as she walked quickly into the
house.
He took her in his strong arms, car
ried her to the nursery and placed her
in chair beside the child. The dear
little face, already famed 10y the wings
of the angels. flushed softly
Il was waiting, Mumsie." she whis-
pcred; you will dance for me now, will
YOU not?''
She fell on her knees beside the
couch, and took the little one in her
arms.
Sweet, lovely Mumsie,' said the
child. kissing the bare arms; you will
be a real dove in Heaven"
''Maizie, Maizie. do not leave met
walled the trembling woman.
NO, Mumsie." answered the child:
you shall come too
The mother gazed at her, speechless
and wild with alarm.
''NIumsie," said the little one. trying
TO raise the heavy little head with the
short golden cuTls in damp ringlets on
the pale forehead, ''Mumsie dear, do
dance. Perhaps the angels don't dance,
and love it so.''
With a great sob and a supreme effort
she rose from her knees, threw off the
heavy cloak which was still about her.
and began to dance. Was ever such
martyrdom, ever such bravery? All,
Neither and Saint, in other days canon
i..ation WAS often more lightly won. On
she danced in the dimly-lit death cham
ber. those outside standing with bated
breath not daring to enter. yet seeing
al. Sweetly the child smiled, lifted
the little hand once as if to thank her,
then the fiuttering eyelids closed, the
long lashes rested on the pale checks,
and she was still. Closer and closer
danced the mother. till she leaned anX-
ioTsly. breathlessly over the child, fear
ing to stop abruptly lest she should
Waken her. Then with Il cry that rang
through The house. and rings now i'm the
ears of the two who waited outside the
door. she fell on the couch beside her
angel. and the brave heart broke
Rlack and White
ARROW POINTS.