Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1906-02-09
JocAsTA,s WHITE ANGEL.
. you fnd II TOO warm here7"

1T Is rather warm.
Shall / open the window for your"
You may II you wish"
The window went up and the breeze
came in; there was long silence. broken
only by the hum and whir Of the ma
chinery, as the looms moved steadily back
and forth.
Have you been here long7" the boy
said, after a while.
mo"
Undsmayed by the uncompromising at
utude and monosyllabic answer he in
quired. Where was your homer"
Poland"
Shall you ever go back7"
Never" she answered. a trihe YEARLY.
and for the first time she turned to look
at the man next her. She saw, not a man,
but boy young and pale, with wealth
Of light funny hair falling over his face,
almost into his honest gray eyes; and he
was leaning on n crutch as he worked the
shuttle back and forth with wonderful
dexterity.
will you tell me yours7'
The woman Strengthened up haughtily,
with the air OF a queen and said. Il am
called Jocasta-Jocasta LevitslIy."
Yvon's gray eyes had opened wide at
her ungracious tone; he dared not keep
up the conversation any longer, but he
still continued to look sideways at her
afternoon. The little Canadian girl on
the other side Of her looked at her too,
and giggled at her airs" and the others
watched her in mild establishment.
She was unlike the rest Of her race;
tall. dark. and intensely pale. with great
flashing black eyes, and clad in simple
pale blue gown wonderfully becoming to
her dark beauty. Two or three times she
needed to be helped out of some difficulty,
and won gave her the aid in silence.
Once the proud look passed away from
her face, and she said, Thanks" CRATE
fully. And then when the great clock
tolled 6. and every one rose to file out Of
the mill, she said "Goodby'' to won.
That night, in Yvon's poor lodging
house, the new hand" was discussed
over the tea and hash. "Dey say she ees
from dee Poland" the little Canadian
landlady said in her broken English; and
at this the sturdy hat-nosed Pole at the
end OF the table stupidity shook his head.
as though wishing to deny that she was a
product OF his noble land.
Good graciousl but she ees proud"
the landlady continued; and the pensive
English youth with romantic notions quot
ed plaintively:-
''Proud-but fair, and very fair"
Somehow or other, as won quietly ate
his toast and hash. he felt his face burn
and flesh culver to hear her discussed so
freely; and that night as he knelt beside
his poor hard bed. he prayed. My God!
l pray for the souls OF the departed
dead-for my father mother and sister"
And in the same breath he whispered,
And oh. 1 ask thee in thy mercy. look
down upon the new lady and help her"
It soon became evident that Jocasta
needed help; never had the mill people
known any one so naughty and imper-
ious; so "div'lish proud the Irish fore
man said. She had better clothes than
the other factory girls, and she kept away
from them all; they feared and hated
her. and she knew 1t. Little by little her
hands began to be covered with rings, and
she stayed out very late evenings. More
over. there was sometimes a hard look
on her face that made won SILVER. He
used to wonder, too, how her English
happened to be so pure; II sounded so
strange amidst the factory slang. Ugly
rumors were soon afioat; she had been
seen out with the young boss Of the mill;
and sometimes in the middle OF the day
he would send for her in his office. Once
when the landlady attempted to remon-
strate with her. asking II she would not
come in earlier nights. Jocasta yelled at
her like a tigress in a rage, and the
woman. terrified held her peace forever
after; and Jocasta, instead OF reforming
grew worse, and often stayed out alto
gether for nights at a time.
why does she always dress in blueg"
the other girls asked each other. 1T Is
the Virgins color;-perhaps to symbolic
her own purity" one answered in scorn-
full tones.
1T is bad, II is bad. TO say that a
little boyish lad would cry out at such
times--it was won, who alone loved the
woman. From the first moment when
she had so proudly walked up to the ma
chine. and with curled lip had looked at
all in the room. WON had felt his heart
leap high with love for Jocasta; and from
that moment the little cripple had been
her mental, her dog. her devoted slave.
And somehow the delicate little face
and soft gray eyes had thrilled Jocasta:
she called him her little white angel"
and harsh and imperious as she might be
to others, nothing but tenderness was
evident to him. He never reproached her
for what she did; he never told her how
he used lie awake nights wondering about
her, nor Of the hours OF hunger he had
endured because of the nosegays he
bought her with the few pennies allowed
for his meals: she never knew how every
night his last prayer was for her, his last
sigh. his last thought was "Jocasta."
One day WON complained OF a head
ache. and the next day his place in the
mill was empty. Jocasta heard that he
was i'll, and she heard the others say
that the house where he was lodging was
no fit place for an invalid. So that even
ing she went to see him. She found the
place lit up, and heard yells and songs
through the open window. AS she opened
the door. she found the air heavy with
tobacco; and a group Of men. dirty and
grimy with sweat were playing cards and
drinking in the front room.
The noise was terrible and as she
entered, one Of the men hurled his glass
Of whisky to the floor. where it broke
into a thousand pieces. JOcasta gave
them a defiant look. and asked for won
one of the men rose and led the way to
the back room, while the others stared
stupidity at the vision.
Jocasta had come with the intention Of
being OF some comfort to the sick and
orphaned lad; to show him that he was
not utterly alone in the world; somehow,
now that he was ILL., the small sacrifices
that he made for her seemed like so many
things that she had deliberately and
selfshly robbed him of; somehow the
thought OF his pure life and her own soiled
one came over her with a sickening sense
of terror; for the first time in her life,
this woman, who had always been naughty
and imperious. became suddenly humbled
she woFshiped at the shrine OF innocence.
AS a child in Poland, Jocasta had been
OF a rich and cultured family; she had
received an education, not only In Polish
but in French and English but she had
always been a Maynard daughter, and her
parents were not sorry to be left in quiet
Il