Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1899-05-04

gun 10 cry 70,
"Why doesn't mother wakef" he
sobbed. He crept along the bed, and
patted her cheek gently; at the touch
he screamed and slid to the ground.
Marty, Marty, what is it? Why Is
mother so cold?"
An hour later the two children were
found by the old shepherd, barefoot in
the road, clinging fast together and
crying bitterly. When the doctor came
it was found that the mother had been
dead some hours.
Two weeks afterwards the future OF
the twins was already decided upon. and
they were told to bid good-by to one
another. They had been living at the
Fellside farm since their mothers
death, but the vicar had interested him
self in them, and he had decided that
Don must be near the school; so, q
small subscription having been raised,
he was to board with family in the
village until he could work for living.
Muirly was TO go to an orphanage some
30 miles away, where she would event
ually be trained as q servant. More
than one house would have been open to
the children, in the first tide Of pity
and wonder at the tragedy, but the
vicar thought that their future welfare
would be best considered by this ar
rangement; and when he took the mat
ter up no one ventured to protest
The twins parted quietly, without
tears. Mrs. Bleasdale had tried to NIT
igate what she considered "a cruel
shame" by whispering that 1t would
only be for little while, and they i'm
plicitly believed her. Indeed, the past
two weeks had seemed to them like an
ugly bustling dream, and they hardly
realized that worse could befall them.
1t was only ut bedtime, when he found
himself without Marty, in a room with
three or four other children, that some
sense of his desolation burst upon Don.
lie lay sobbing far into tho night, and
refused to be comforted. Mrs. Smith
had every wish to be kind TO him, but
she had houseful of unruly children
10 manage, and on'sways were strange
70 Der. She complained to the neigh
horH that he made himself fair silly wi
frcttin'." When he was not crying he
was perplexed and frightened BY his
new surroundings The children guar
relied over their games and their
mother usually Quelled the disturbance
by dealing out slaps with q generous
hand. Don came In for share Of these
with the rest; he was missing soon
after md was not found till nightfall,
fast asleep on his mothers grave. Mrs,
Smith considered she must break him
OF bad habit, SO she beat him again,
and told him he should not see Marty
If he went there any more That night
he cried so that the other children
could not sleep, and after o week in
which blows, seedlings and cajohngs
oil failed to "break him Of the habit"
he was put to sleep in on out-bullding,
that the household might have peace.
For the rest he was dull and docile
enough, listening with pathetic credul-
ity to Mrs. Smiths assurance that MAR
" would come soon, which was her
formula when she wanted to be kind.
Marty had been taken by the vicar
to her new home. She looked such o
quaint little figure in her long lilac print
gown and white apron, the uniform of
the orphanage, that the wears daugh-
tiers called her o "sweet little dear"
and gave her silver six-pences, and the
servants kissed her and cried over her.
She was some years younger than the
usual age of admission, and the girls
at the home seemed very big to her. The
long rows of lilac print frocks and
white aprons bewildered her, and the
sameness of voice and expression never
ceased to perplex and distress her. II
there were some who were inclined to
tease and torment her, there were others
who would have liked to make q pet Of
her, but Marty never distinguished be-
tween these; she suffered the caresses
Of one In exactly the same spirit as
she endured the petty tyranny of an
other.
The teachers found her good and ODE
dent, and she went through the daily
routine with immovable patience, but
without interest. When there was some
unusual sound in the house, or o visit
from a stranger, Mairly's face sharp
ened into a look of intense expectancy,
and then settled back in awhile to the
same dull patience. One day, when
visitor had come and gone, Mairly's
disappointment expressed itself In
sudden demand of the matron:
"Please, ma'am, when shall see
Don2"
"You will see him some day, II you're
good GIRL said the matron, kindly
"But when, ma'am, please"
II can't tell you that, Mary"
"It's much easier to be good If I
know when," pleaded the child; but
the matron could make no promises,
and Marty abandoned her hope from
that day.
One night in the early spring, abe
awakened with the sound OF Don's voice
In her ears, crying "Mairlyl" most pit
eously. She lay quiet until the usual
time for getting up, and when the
household assembled for prayers she
went up to the matron with the custom
airy bob and curtsey.
"Please, ma'am, must go to DON"
"You can't do that, Mary, I'm afraid"
1T must go, must go!" sobbed the
child, her fortitude giving way for The
first time. Don wants me, he Keeps
crying and crying; he walked mo last
night with his crying!"
It was in vain they tried to comfort
her-Don was in trouble, she must go
to Don. She kept sobbing this out till
at last she was pronounced naughty"
and put in room by herself to get over