The herald and news. [volume] (Newberry S.C.) 1903-1937, 1908-12-11
MILADY.
Bv Miss Mae Lucille Smith.
Written For The Herald and News,


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Gingly sharp pointed and cruel as the
barb in Milady's soul. Earlier in the
day, before the fog lifted, which
shrouded the lake like funeral pail,
the dismal note Of the fog horn,
sounding its timely warning to imper-
illed boats, smote upon her ear
with a significant prescience Of fore
boding i'll; and now the mournful
dirge Of the wind, sweeping in great
gusts the desolated streets, furnish
ed fitting requiem to her thoughts,
as half unconsciously she murmured
the words Of the old Persian poet,
Kaayyam:
"The moving finger writes; and, hay
writ,
Moves on: nor all your pity nor
wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a
line,
Nor all your tears wash out word
of it,
But what was that? The reverie
ended abruptly, and keenly alert Mil
ady stood listening: ''Evening News!
Evening News! E-evening News. -
The high, piping notes, above the
howl of the wilma, died away in a
plaintive wall. and shocked and sur
prised that child should be out a
night like this and thus exposed to
the fierce onslaught Of the gale,
Milady hurried to the window and
pressing a white tense face against
the pane, beheld, clinging to stand
pipe for support, half clad little fl
cure, gaunt eyed, famine pinched, the
drawn lines of whose face told elo-
quently a tale Of suffering. The
mother instinct, which, in every true
woman's breast, responds to the help
lessness Of childhood, stirred within
her in great wave Of pity, and
throwing open the door, she drew the
tiny waif within.
"Child what is your name and why
are you selling papers a night like
this?"
Milady could scarce frame
the words because Of the
emotion that checked her at
sight Of the forlorn little figure
trembling from head to foot from
sheer exhaustion and lack Of food,
and because Of the deep lying pathos
in the big sorrowful eyes. so old in
their tired outlook on life. SO
strangely at odds with the babyish
years.
my name ees Gustav, cen
Antoinette zhe ees, ah, vera seeck, cen
to buy re meedzine cen re braid re pa
apers I zell, but tonight, zey buy
nod" and the childish lips twitched.
"Where is Antoinette, Gustave?"
Milady questioned very softly.
"Antionette zhe ees in re Higgins
Flats, Canal Row, East Zide.'
At which Milady shudaered, we'll
knowing, by common report, the
squalor and wretchedness of the
place.
"Een wen re hurdygurdy
comes 'neaf re windo' cen
plays re Marseillais, cen Antoin-
cite zhe sinks I zee ned, but turns her
face to ze wall and weeps for Franz,
for Franz, so vera far away,' the
child continued dreamilv.
The look of pain and rebellion
passed from Milady's eyes and was
replaced by a light sweetly tetnder
and born Of high resolve-the soul
barriers of selfish grief had sudden
" given way and the Christmas spir-
it entered in.
"Gretchen, she called, "'phone a
cab quick-pack hamper of food,
bring my purse and come with me!'
each. mein Gott! nit el;Se dis will
YOU not stir abroad!' And Gretchen
stood horrofied and resolute.
A look from Milady. and mutterins
incoherent things, she reluctantly
went away to. do her mistress bid
ding. A few minutes later, seated
in a cab, with the warm Buffalo