Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1909-02-02
CHAPTER III.


Eureka l have had an adventure at
last; and yet, after all, what am / talk
ing about? 1t is no adventure at all, but
how it happened:
II was seated this morning before my
easel, out in the open air, painting busily
when l thought l heard a movement be-
hind me.
II should have promised, by the way,
that Tim had gone off on another excur-
sion into the Jones territory, on the quest
for more eggs and milk.
II glanced over my shoulder, and saw
peering round the corner of my white
sunshade, a pair of large, eager eyes
fixed not upon me, but upon the canvas
was painting.
mot in the least surprised. l thought
to myself, AT last! The Caravan has
exercised its spell upon the district, and
the usual audience is beginning to gather
So went TRANQUILITY on with my work,
and paid no more attention.
Presently, however, fatigued with my
work. | INDUCED in great yawn, and
rose to stretch myself. | then perceived
that my audience was more select than
numerous, consisting of only one indi-
vidual-a young person in Welsh Chin
ney-pot hat. Closer observation showed
me that said hat was set on head of
closely cropped, curly black hair, beneath
which there shone a brown, boyish face
freckled with sun and wind, pair Of
bright black eyes, and a laughing mouth
with two rows of the whitest of teeth.
But the face, though boyish, did not be-
long to a boy. The young person was
dressed in an old cotton gown, had col
ored wooden shawl or scarf thrown over
the shoulders, and wore thick wooden
stockings and rough shoes, the latter many
sizes too large. The gown was too short
for the wearer, who had evidently out
grown it; it reached only just below the
knee, and. when she young person moved,
one caught glimpse of something very
much resembling dilapidated garter.
The young persons smile was so bright
and good-humored that l found myself
answering 1t with friendly nod.
"'How are your | said calamity j
hope you re quite we'll
''She nodded in reply, and, STOPPING
down, plucked long blade of,grass, which
she placed In her mouth ami began to
Enthusiastically, I thought
/ "'May l ask where you cone from? |
said. i mean. where do you live?
Without speaking. she streached out
her arm and pointed across the lake in
the direction of the sea. l could not help
noticing then, as an artist. that the sleeve
Of her gown was loose and torn, and that
her arm was round and well-formed, and
o,I nks.r.
quite genteelly small
"'If II is not inquisitive. may | ask
your name?
Matt, was the reply.
lis that all? What is your other
nameT
I've got no other name. I'm Matt.
am
"'Indeed. Do your parents live here.
"'Got no parents was the reply.
Your relations, then. You belong to
some one, supposeF
.'She gave me another nod.
Yes she answered. nibbling rapidly.
L belong TO William Jones'
"'oh. to him. l said. feeling as famil-
lar with the name as if had known it all
nv life. But he's not yonr fathery
"She shook her head emphatically.
But of course he's relauonf
"kno<her shake Of the head.
".Rce you belong to him? ! said con
siderably puzzled. Where were you
bornr
II wasn't born at all answered Matt
I come ashore
This was what the immortal Dick
Swiveller would have called 'staggerer.
I looked at the girl sx-in. inspecting her
curiously from top to toe. Without tax
ing her eyes from mine, she stood on one
leg bashfuliy. and fdgeted with the other
foot. She was certainly not bad look
inx. though evidently . very rough dia-