Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1902-02-20


lane. Looking up. she leaped from
my knee, and was off like the wind
Further down the road young fellow
of about 80, looking tall and well in a
dark cycling suit, stood. with out
stretched hands and shining eyes.
Needless of the thorns, his cycle lay
where he had let it fall among the
briars.
| 20, my daddy" she gasped, throw
ing herself into his arms. MY wick
licked daddy, Have you come to be
maded good?"
AS it was necessary to pass them
4 to proceed. ] paused for a moment
near them, thinking she might look
up to say good-day. But l was no
longer in her world. Her chubby
hands, still grasping the buffers"
which he loved, were locked tightly
around his neck, and the mans dark
face was buried from sight in a mass
of soft dark curls. l mounted softly
and rode away from Grace and pleas
ant Places.
The summer was far advanced
when l saw her again, for the city
had claimed me much, and Pleasant
Places had been for others. The
scent of the hay had nigh died from
golden more quickly than one likes
when one is 10th for the summer to
| She was sitting, with book, not
far from the spot of our acquaintance.
Subsequently | learned that she was
never far from that place when the
village school hours were over. IT
was there she always met the dark
faced man, and there she would sit
for hours when he was miles away,
looking at the picture books lie
brought her.
| "Well?" ! cried, for her attention
to the pictures made her unaware Of
my approach.
She looked up. quick to recognize,
and smiled
90" she said, tits the fat mani"
Then softly, to herself: What fell in
the singers"
| She made room for me beside her,
daintily moving an inch or so of dress.
| was thinking of her passionate rush
to the other mans arms. 1t really
seems absurd. but l felt just little
| disconnected.
| Where's your oisikler?" she asked
| 1t was at the inn, | informed her.
Il told M daddy about you," she
| m
Sunday now. We have dinner and
tea at Aunt Harris"
| "And mammal" | inquired.
Mamma comes some days-Satur-
days" She pointed to the book, and
added, confidentially: But l have
daddy always. He's is here. | know
it's him, because he's got wicksters
on his lip; not all over"
"An are you making him good?"
asked.
She gave me the searching look of
criticism as once before.
| "He is not wicked now" she said
slowly. Mamma told Auntie Harris
so. Dear mummy says a little angel
was always pulling at his heart, and
pulling at his heart until it broke, and
| he could not stay away. He is good
now-mamma says so; but she says
he can never be forgiven. Can't he?"
l could not meet her look of wistful
entreaty, so turned my gaze to the
fields, thinking of many things ! have
seen and heard and read, until my
eyes were brave enough to meet hers.
Perhaps he has suffered, little
one; and those who have suffered may
hope to be forgiven" l said, looking
ar her.
She left my side with sudden haste,
clambering upon my knee, and / felt
the ecstasy of her soft ssms about my
neck.
Il love you!" she sobbed passionate
| ly. MY daddy has suffered-he told
ed me so. / love you, fat mani"
| There are ever things to bring a
fall to pride. l inquired diplomatical-
ly if she would not like to call me
uncle
20, yes!' she cried, smiling through
her tears like April sunshine. "Uncle
l-Uncle-'
| Bob"
| Eyes, Uncle Bob Not my proper
uncle, though, you know" she was
careful to add but like my Auntie
Harris
And so amendment was carried
| During the ripening of the corn
the spot saw me once again: but she
was not there. Without her the lane
seemed strangely empty and uninter-
esting; so |, lacking the moral courage
to seek her at "Auntie" Harris, turn
ed my wheel back towards the city.
The time of harvest, when the
country and the city plays, came, and
| |, who had seen overmuch of the
latter, thought with joy of a quiet
sojourn in the joys of the former-not
| far away, be it confessed, from
Pleasant Places.
/ did not go on the 'bisikler," choos-
ing the train, and, alighting at the
little railway station, walked alone
the narrow, high-hedged lane, then in
fullest garment of nut, briar, and
Ihoneysuckle. A mile or so, and one