The Houma courier. (Houma, La.) 1878-1939, 1900-11-10

down on The bed in Tia little cdamhsl
Qn the landing, while She hurriedlg
prepared 6 cup Of teas The girl drank
thirstiiys but ate nothing. 8nd when
Mary bade her rest quietly she sank
back among the pillows and closed
her eyes.
William heard She story from his
wife at breakfast. Poor wench he
said, ut were cruel hard to talks away
her means o Hvin'. Did she say IS how
she found her way ZIP hithar2p
sAy, said Mary, she had watehed
tn way w went-ours were ths first
kind words she'd heard for many s
day an she were a bit touched like.
You see. lad, her mother died month
ago, an her father she can scarce res
lect, for be only lived gil She were u
year ovid She's had to support herself
vii fortune telin', am as there were
naught doln' i town, she thought she
might make summat Il Gil country.
Haf-staryed she has been; Lordi.
there's scarce q scrap q flesh on her
bonesia
We'll" said William, ~ reckon she
must stop here till her strength comes
back, anyhow
u knew you'd say that, VIII" re-
sponded the old woman, "for you were
ne'er one to shirk dom a kind deed.
Ay, wen look after her; you see, TIL
little birds as good as said fne news.
were comm, am it I'd be ungrateful
zone to reward her..
Later IS the day Guiseppas talk be-
came So wild and uninteligible that
William was dispatched TO the village
for Dr.. Hattersleys When he came and
found that the girl was in high fever
be suggested that the W~orRhouse am-
bulance should he fetched Mary heard
him with some impatience and datly.
refused TO take his advice.
9Th poor things goin' to bide here
till she's better" she said. Eve all
ways been reckoned a decent nurse,
an I can look after her as well as amy
young madam Wi a white cap"
"Eh!" said the doctor, with q grim-
ace. 81 suppose you'll have your own
way. But you must know that it will
be a great responsibility. You're far
from strong yourself"
20, I'm right enow at last, doctor"
replied Mary. "You see, it's cometo
me as our lads alive after all ana SO
I've gotten summat to look forward
to. 1t Id be unlucky, besides bein'
wrong, to turn away Giuseppe, when
she made her way here, Lord knows
how, because she thought we'd help
her"
The kindly doctor had nothing more
to urge, and so Giuseppe became an
Of S"craperlowe. She was Sc
i'll for several weeks, but her
constitution was good (she came Of fine
Tuscan peasant stock), and before the
time Of the first snowstOrm she was
able to be moved downstairs and to sit
in a big armchair by the fire. AS she
grew stronger she began to speak Of
her departure, but Mary always ST.
fenced her tenderIy.
Its for you to choose, wench, she
said at last. my master an I'd be
main sorry if you left us, for we've
come to care for you more than a lite
tie. Why none stay wi us for good2-
there's many an many a thing as you
can help wiz. You see, Giuseppe, / be
gettin' owd."
The girl thanked her with luminous
eyes and from that day began to work
in the place as if It were her own home,
such an active interest that the
old folk could scarce express their adj
miration. The healthy life developed
her southern beauty until she was re-
garded as the loveLest woman Of the
countryside. The respect and deYo-
tion which she showed toward her pro-
tectors was really touching, and as the
months passed they began to look upon
her as their own flesh and blood. She
had the daintiest imaginable hand for
butter making, and the poultry under
her care was reared with admirable
success.
Mary's idea of her having brought
luck was confirmed in the following
spring, when William received a LETT
ter from a London lawyer, declaring
him heir to the property Of an almost
forgotten kinsman. The fortune was
large enough to keep them for the rest
Of their lives without working but
neither cared to give up the life on the
old farm, and they resolved to leave it
untouched till VIII came back. Their
faith in his existence was rewarded at.
moving time by a letter addressed in.
the Lads own bold handwriting. In it
they fodnd'that he had been cast ashore
on the South American coast, and that
he had lain some months in hospital
He had written as soon as he was able.
but he feared that his letters had mis-
carried. His left arm, shattered in the
shipwreek, had been amputated, and
even if he had dsared it he was no
longer fit for a seafaring life. Tnshort,
he was longing to see his old father aud.
mother again and to work on the lit
tie farm with an his might
After that, not a day passed without,
their expecting his arrival. IL was not.
however, until the harvest that Be
appeared at Seraperlowe. On the third
night Of the Wakes, just q year since
Mary had dreamed Of his return. as
they sat together at supper, she heard
his hand upon the latch. She 8 and
ran tremblingly to throw her arms
around his ueoE and o1st-5r y. it,