The Kendrick gazette. [volume] (Kendrick, Idaho) 1892-1968, 1905-05-19
The |nIeIceSs|On 0I The Child.

smile as her husband entered
-heir-studio, they termed 1t, but as
matter Of fact it was their garnet
md the only room they had.
He shook his head YEARLY as he
placed the canvases on the table.
"The dealers are full up, and I
haven't sold one"
'Never mind" she answered, tender
ly-'luck must change soou."
Heaven only knows that ours has
been black enough since we married."
Dearest" she said, reproachfrlly,
md she gathered closer to her breast
the sleeping child, whose face was 80
dear to her, with the blue eyes Of her
husbfad and its halo Of fair, curling
locks, 'there Is little Ruth"
Malmaduke Seton gazed moodily
into tl,e fire. His thoughts were far
from pleasant ones. Until four years
ago no had never known that dread
feeling Of want His father, Sir Mar
maduke Seton. very wealthy mao,
had completely spoiled him. Not q
~ish remained unsatisfed, and his al
owance was a princely one.
This bringing up had the usual ~
lit. Duke made up his mind that he
.as an artist and nothing would shake
Jim in this connection.
Not even the threat of his fathers
ire displeasure would persuade him
throw down his brush.
There Is no doubt that in time Sir
Iarmaduke would have relented and
ave countenanced his son in his ar
istic ambition, but as luck would hav Q
t, Duke went into the country to paint
landscapes. There he met Ruth, his
wife, the daughter of the vicar, and at
nee proceeded to make love. A few
weeks afterward he proposed to her
md was accepted.
Sir Marmaduke did not rage when
the engagement was announced to
hi. He wrote few lines.
MARRY this girl and l have done
with you. Not a sou will you have.
The choice remains with you"
Duke did make his choice and mar.
ried. The inevitable occurred and lit
tie Ruth was the browning blessing to
a happy marriage. Not for two years
did they begin to feel the pinch Of
poverty. The ready money which he
had and the realization of his jewelry
kept them going for that length Of
time. But the last six months had
been a weary fight with starvation.
Their studio cost them four shil-
lings a week-an attic of the Gray's
Inn road-and their food cost them Of
ten less. Their thin faces and wearied
smiles were speaking evidence of their
life. But little Ruth's bonny face bore
signs Of mothers love and care.
There is plenty of lard and pota-
toes, let US fry Them" Ruth said,
cheerfully, as she placed the child on
her bed.
The next morning they were awak-
ened by the child's chatter. The sun
was shining brilliantly through the
windows Of the roof.
II will go the rounds again." he
said, as he took up his canvases. II
will be back soon with your breakfast,
I hope, darling. Goodbye, little one"
There were tears in his eyes as he
leaned to kiss his little girl.
His wife stood looking at the open
doorway, through which her husband
had disappeared. Then, with a sigh,
she started cleaning their room.
The little one looked on for a while.
In few moments she grew tired and
wandered to the landing head. She
walked down few steps.
Her mother went on with her work,
now and then stopping for a moment
% dash the streaming tears from her
eyes.
Little Ruth reached the street.
(which way did dad goT' she lisped
to herself.
After q moments hesitation she
turned to the left. A hundred yards
ahead she reached Theobald's road
and toddled along in the direction of
Oxford street.
II find him soon-dad, dear dad. He
is crying, poor dad" she murmured.
A sudden run to cross the street, a
shrek, the pulling up of horses, and
the little one lay motionless in the
arms Of kindly policeman. A quar-
ter of an hour afterward she was be-
ing attended to by the house surgeon
Of neighboring hospital.
"A simple fracture of the arm" he
remarked to the nurse. 1T was a
providential escape"
whats your name, little oneT he
asked.
Ruth Sefton." she answered, ODE
diently.
where do you nvef" was his next
question.
Far away, up high" she replied,
pointing with her hand to the ceiling.
"What is the name of the streetT
Ruth doesn't know" she answered
decidedly.
What II your fathers namsF'
eSked NE nurse at q hazard