The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1905-05-10
CHAPTER VIII.
Continued.

IVeu III d very SFlm SOlIo VI PAi'o
ton and suffering.
1t is not entirely ingenious to say
that all Little Eake-Believe's dreams
and fancies were for Saranne.
There was ore-but was it a dream
OF q fancy? 1t is hard to say; scarcely
can it be called a ~hope-that was one
vision, call it by what name you will,
which Little Make-Believe treasured in
her heart of hearts, on which she dwelt
and unused, and built up airy castles
such as We weave out Of a floating
cloud in a fair sky.
1t became with her a worship, hidden
In a holy sanctuary, never spoken Of to
a soul, not even to Saranne. scarcely
ineligible as to its ending even to
herself.
But un~substantiai. unreal as it was,
It grew into an abiding happiness, and
sweetened many a bitter hour.
And then again, as to this prince
whom Saranne was to marry.
1t was at irst-for it was a favorite
theme for years-a perfectly ideal
fancy.
The prince was to appear in a cloud,
to be met with in the market, to knock
at the. door and himself with
q radiant smile.
He was for a time nothing more than
a delightful myth, but it was not long
before he found a place in Saranne's
heart, and never was mention made of
him by Little Make-Believe that Sa-
ranne could not, had she pleased, have
given him a name.
But she did not please. AS Little
Make-Believe had n secret which she
kept to herself, likewise had Saranne;
and neither of the sisters was con-
scious that something was hidden from
her by the other.
Time had not improved Polly. The
vice of drink had eaten into her soul
SO deeply that there was no escape for
her.
The demon held her tight, and the
too-willing slave gave herself up to the
horrible thralldom.
In a man it is shocking to contem-
plate; to behold it in woman-as it
Is to be seen daily in the London
streets-both saddens and shames us.
Foxey, now a strong man, strong in
his limbs and in his passions, pursued
the uneven tenor of his way.
So pronounced was his vagabond ma
lure that, with a certain class Of re-
former, he became somewhat of a ia
v~orite-being in a measure a boon to
them.
They preached to him and at him,
and endeavored, by a distinctly wrong
process, to inculcate in him some con-
sciousness of right and wrong and of
human responsibility, they ven Che
being willing as long as he was paid
for i) made a show Of him; but they
did not discover a way of utilizing for
the public's good and his own this per-
picking lump of human material.
Nevertheless, he had his uses, if only
to serve as a peg upon which moral
Rxioms could be hung.
Once every year, in the days of his
freedom, did he leave Clare Market of
his W will, and that was in the hop
ping season, when he took his rough
holiday of fresh air and brighter
scenes.
An experience Of a better kind than
the words Of cut-and-dried moralists
happily befell him and left its perma-
nent mark upon him.
In what kind of a deed he had been
engaged, history, as recorded in the
newspaper columns. is silent; whatever
Its nature may have been, be sure it
was not heroic.
All that is known, and that only to
the few concerned, is that late at night
Little MakeBelieye found him lying
wounded and bleeding in a courtyard,
which was very little frequented after
dark.
Hearing a groan, she stopped and
saw the body Of q man, who, as she
knelt by him, recovered consciousness.
He seized her hand with a grasp so
powerful that she could not release
herself.
WHO are you, and what do you
want?1
II am Little Make Believe, and I
heard some one groan. Are yer hurt
much?"
I'D brighten yer out of yer life. I
suppose" said Foxey, still holding her
hand, IF I was to tell yer that I'm
hurt, that it's all up with me unless I
get somebody to stand by me-"
oh, let me go" cried Little Make
Believe, full of compassion, land I'll
get help"
NO." he said, nobody must know,
nobody must see me till I'm better.
I'm jest out Of quod. and 1 don't want
to get in again without a spell O. lib
erty. l know where yer live; there's a
yard in the back and a shed in it.
Would yer mind my hiding there for
q day or so?"
at don't matter to me-" said Little
Make-Relieve; but make haste, or
yer'H bleed to death"
He was bleeding from a great cash
in his neck.
Haven't yer got nothink to bind if
up with, Make-Believe?"
She tore off q piece from her frock.
and herself bound up the would.
Nov will yer help me TO the shed?"
Eyes"
"And yer wont peach?'
What Go yer take me for?"
Gall right. Let me lean OH yer