Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1907-02-28
CHAPTER VIII.
Continued.

Il
though now she trod the cutters, and
lived in W. grim world of priva-
tion and suffering.
1t is not entirely ingenious to say
that all Little BakeBelieve's dreams
and fancies were for Saranne.
There was one-but was it dream
or a fancy? 1t is hard to say; scarcely
can it be called hope-that was one
vision. call 1t by what name YOU will.
which Little akeBelieve treasured in
her heart Of hearts, on which she dwelt
rld muscd, and built up airy castles
such rs we weave out Of floating
cloud in a fair sky.
1t became with her worship, hidden
in holy sanctuary, never spoken of to
a soul. not even to Saranne. scarcely
Ineligible as to its ending even to
herself.
But unsubstantal. unreal as it was
1t grew into an abiding happiness, and
sweetened many bitter hour.
And then again, as to this prince
whom Saranne was to marry.
1t was ut firSt-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
ut the door and announce himself with
radiant smile.
He was for tilpc nothing more than
delightful myth. but it was not long
before he found Il place in Saranne's
heart, and never was mention made of
Nim by Little MakcBelieve 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 Sarannc;
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 lad 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 thraildom.
In Il man it IS shocking to contem-
plate; TO behold it in II woman-as it
is to be seen daily III the London
strects-both saddens and shames us.
Foxey, how strong man, strong il
his limbs and in his passions, pursued
the uneven tenor of his way.
SO pronounced was his vagabond IA
ture that, with a certain class of re.
former. he became somewhat Of fa-
vorite-being il Il measure Il boon to
them.
They preached to him and ut linn,
and endeavored. by Il distinctly wrong
process to inculcatc in him some con-
sciousness OF right and wrong and OF
human responsibility, they even Ne
being willing as long rs lie was paid
for iD made a show of him; but they
did not discover Il way Of utilizing for
the pubic's good and his own this per-
picking lump of human material
Ne .thcless, he had his uses, if only
to serve as Il peg upon which moral
axioms could be hung.
Once every year, in the days of his
freedom, did he leave Glare Market of
his own will, and that was in the lop-
ping season, when he took his rough
holiday of fresh air ard brighter
scenes.
An experience of better kind than
the words of cut-and-dred moralists
happily befel him and left its pcrma-
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, he sure it
was not heroic.
All that Is known, and that only to
lie few concerned. is that late ut night
Little Make-Believe found him living
Nounde and bleeding in a courtyard,
which was VIC little freQuented after
Clark.
Hearing Sroan, she stopped and
saw the body of man, who. as she
knelt by him. recovered consciousness.
lie seized her hand with a grasp so
powerful that she could not release
herself.
"Whe are you. and what DO you
want?'
Il am Little Make Believe. and |
heard some one groan. Arc yer hurt
lnuch"
I'd frlghten yer out Of yer life,
suppose" said Foxcy, still holding her
hand, "if l was to tell yer that I'm
hurt, that it's all up with me unless |
set somebody to stand by me-"
"Oh, let me go!' cried Little Make.
Believe, full Of compassion. land III
get help
NO" he said, "nobody must know,
nobody must see me till I'm better.
I'm jest out Of quod. and l don't want
TO Get in again. without a spell O. lib.
drty. / know where yer live; there's a
yard in the back and q shed in II,
Would yer mind my hiding there for
a day or so'"
1T don't matter 10 me-" said Little
Mlke-Belieye; ''but make haste, or
ydr'll bleed to DEATH"
He was bleeding from a great cash
in his neck.
Haven't yer got nothnk to bind il
~ with, Make-Believe"
She tore off piece from her frock,
and herself bound up the wound.
Now will yer help me 10 the shed"