The Olneyville times. (Olneyville [Providence, R.I.]) 1887-1917, 1905-05-26
CHAPTER VIII.
Continued.


hat all Little BakeBelleve's dreams
and fancies were for Saranne.
There was one-but was It a dream
Ur a fancy? II is hard 10 say; scarcely
can it be called a hope-that was one
vision, call II by what name you will,
which Little Make Believe treasured in
her heart OF hearts, on which she dwelt
and mused, and built up airy castles
such as we weave out OF floating
cloud In fair sky.
Tt became with her woDslip, hidden
IN holy sanctuary, never spoken OF 10
a soul, not even TO Saranne, scarcely
tntelligible az TO it's ending even 10
herself.
But unsubstantial, unreal as II was,
i 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 frst-for IL was q favorite
theme for years-a perfectly ideal
fancy.
The prince was to appear In cloud,
to be met with In the market, TO knock
at the door and announce himself with
q radiant smile
He was for time nothing more than
\ delightful myth, but II 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 name.
But she did not please. AS Little
Make Believe had one secret which she
kept to herself, likewise had Saranne;
and neither OF the sisters was con-
sclous 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 il is shocking to contem-
plate; TO behold il in a woman-as II
Is to be seen daily in the London
streets-b0th saddens and shames us.
Foxey, now n strong man, strong in
his limbs and in his passions, pursued
the uneven tenor OF his way.
So pronounced was his vagabond ma
ture that, with a certain class OF re-
former, he became somewhat OF a IA
v0rite-belng in q measure boon to
them.
They preached to him and at him,
and endeavored, by distinctly wrong
process, to inculcate in him some con-
sciousness OF right and wrong and OF
human responsibility, they even he
being willing as long as he was paid
FOR iD made show Of him; but they
Did not discover way OF utilizing for
The public's good and his own this per
picking lump OF human material.
Nevertheless, he had his uses, 4 only
10 serve as a peg upon which moral
axioms could be hung.
Once every year, in the days OF his
freedom, did he leave Clare Market OF
his own will, and that was in the hop
ping season, when he took his rough
holiday Of fresh air and brighter
scenes.
An experience Of 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 deed he had been
engaged, history, as recorded in the
newspaper columns, is silent; whatever
Its nature may have been, be sure il
was not heroic.
All that is known, and that only 10
the few concerned is that late at night
Little Make-Believe found him lying
wounded and bleeding in a courtyard.
which was very little frequented after
dark.
Hearing n groan, she stopped and
saw the body of a man, who. as she
tnelt 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?"
IL am Little Make-Belieye, and l
heard some one groan. Are yer hurt
much?n
I'D frighten yer out OF yer life !
suppose" said Foxey, still holding her
hand, IF / was TO tell yer that I'm
hurt that it's all up with me unless l
get somebody 10 stand by me-"
"oh, let me gop' cried Little Make
Believe, full Of compassion. "and III
get help"
NO" he said nobody must know.
nobody must see me till I'm better.
I'm jest out of quod. aud / don't want
TO get in again without a spell o. lib
erty. i know where yer live: there's n
yard in the back and n shed in IL
Would yer mind my hiding there for
day or soT'
ut don't matter to me-" said Little
Make-Believe; but make haste. or
yer'll bleed TO death"
He was bleeding from a great cash
In his neck.
Haven't yer got nothink to bind il
up with. Make Believer"
She tore off piece from her frock.
and herself bound up the wound.
"Now will yer help me TO the shedY'
"Yes"
"And yer wont peach?"
what do yer take me for?"
"All right. Let me lean on vel
shoulder; I won't hurt yer more nor
can help"
Unobserved. they made their way Il
the shed, and there Foxey remained il
hiding for nearly a fortnight.