The Cuero Daily Record. (Cuero, Tex.), Vol. 9, No. [106], Ed. 1 Wednesday, November 30, 1898 Page: 3 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Cuero Area Newspaper Collection and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the Cuero Public Library.
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CREEN_WOODS.
i, rj ' Of fairy pi]
/ ^ And stir
Ob, sweet it was, and fair it was, , y "
In the green woods to-day, J
With only tree-top* bending near.
And all the world away, ^
When fearing not, and earing not,
And hoping, hoping all.
My heart danced as the shadows dance
The swaying.boughs let fall.
Oh, balmy was the pine-tree’s breath.
Stirring its tasselied plumes;
The slender birches, maiden-white,
Leaned thro’ the forest glooms;
And biroh, and beech, and bending bush,
And brook and blossomed spray,
Were childhood voices long forgot,
In the green woods to-day.
Oh, sweet it was, and fair it was,
In the green woods to-day,
To hear the birds trill out their tunes,
And all the world away;
And fearing not, and caring not,
And hoping, hoping all,
In notes they stole from out my dreams
To hear them call and call.
about
?be nestin
Sang onl
And far ani
Thrilled
As If the s<
Lived in
»es the wood full,
>f airy feet;
robin to his mate
, “Sweet, sweet, swertP
high the hermit-thrust
ecstatio note,
of love and doath
slender throat. \
’ v
Oh, sweet it was, and dear it was.
In the green woods to-day.
The echo of a silent voice,
And all the world away.
For fearing not, and loving much.
And hoping, hoping all,
Across the oloudy silences
I felt her presence fall.
They mad* her grave the other day.
And yet It well m-iv be
That all aljong that woodland path,
VtSwless; she went with me;
For life is ptronger still than death
And lord will And a way,
And heav<n and earth were all as ons
In the g^een woods to-day.
—Martha Baker Dunn.
® t®®#®®#® ® @@@#@® <
f IN DURANCE YILE!
®®@®@®®®®®@@®®®#
ABRIELLE always
remembered the
day when the ring-
master of the cir-
cus came to see her
pony jump. She
was proud of her
pony, who was
dapple gray and
Welsh, and could
jump nine inches
higher than him-
self.
Gabrielle was
five,, and tad rid-
den without a lead-
ing-rein for two
years, bnt her father neror let her
jump Roland, the pony. So the pony
jumped by himself, greatly to the
edification of the ringmaster, who had
been bidden to see the feat.
While all this was going on, Nana
called her to nursery tea, and as she
trotted down the long yard, past the
stables, and toward the drivb, the ring-
master turned to Jack Ainslie,
Gabrielle’s father, and said;
“Has the little missie hurt her foot?
She's a thought lame.”
Jack Ainslie looked hastily after the
idolised little figure, and noted that
the ringmaster was right. She was a
thought lame.
Hastily excusing himself he ran
after the child.
“Have you hurt your foot, dar-
ling?” he asked anxiously. “You’re
limping a little. Did you twist your
ankle?”
“Oh, no, Daddy dear, I’m not hurt.
I’m going to tea.” ' .
Gabrielle put up her face for the
ever-expected kiss, and ran after her
nurse. JaCk Ainslie dismissed the
aubject from his mind and showed the
ringmaster the rest of the horses.
From that day, however, things
changed for Gabrielle. Other people
noticed the little limp, and her parents,
t wrifled and distressed, sent for the
family doctor. He discovered that in
some way, probably at birth, her hip
had been dislocated, and had formed
a new socket for itself, and that hence-
forth she would limp unless—and here
all the mischief began—something
eonld be done. Her father was fran-
tie. Of course something mast be
done. That his Gabrielle, his dainty
little lady, with her pretty face, her
qniok intelligence and her gracious
ways, should be lame—oh, it was in-
tolerable ! He was broken-hearted and
rebellious, and even his wife’s -stead-
fast patience and unchanging tender-
ness oould not make him resigned.
Then began for Gabrielle a series of
visits to London. She was taken from
one great doctor to another till she
• grew quite used to marching about ou
thick piled carpets, clad in nothing
but her bonny hair, while they dis-
cussed her interesting “case.”
“Doctors are chilly men,” said
Gabrielle; “their hands are always
cold to my body.”
An operation was arranged, but at
the last moment Jaok Ainslie drew
back, for the surgeons would not guar
anfcee success, and the family doctor
said grave things about Gabrielle’s
constitutional delicacy. So it was de-
cided that more gradual means must
be tried to bring about the desired re
suit. The “gradual means” assumed
the shape of an instrument, hideous
to behold aud painful to wear. It
broke Jack Ainslie’s heart to see his
little lady cabined and oonfined in snch
a cruel cage, and for ttm little lady
herself, it blotted out the sunshine
and made life very gray and terrible.
One thing was quite plain to Gabri-
elle, and that was that evidently
nature was very much to blame in
having provided a new “socket” for
the poor little dislocated bone. That
impertinence must be interfered with
at all costs—the doctors seemed to
agree upon that. And Gabrielle won-
dered why it was so wrong to have *9
pain, to be perfectly nnconsoions in
her “affliction,” as her narse called it,
and so interesting (to the doctors),
and right, to be uncomfortable and to
wear a hideous high-soled boot aud an
iron cage, with cratches under the
arms that pushed her shoulders up to
her ears.
As for that instrument, it was de-
signed and ordered by three famous
surgeons, and it oost the prioe of many
ponies. Gabrielle tried to be brave.
She was curiously conscious that the
pain her parents suffered waa far
greater than her own. The instru-
ment was adjusted in London, and on
_ the way home in the train her mother
asked her many times. “Does it hurt
yon, my darling?” And Gabrieli A al-
ways answered bravely, “I can bear it,
mother dear; I can bear it!”
When she got home that night the
po^f little leg was black from the cruel
lure and Mary Ainsll* broke down
cried till she oould cry no longer.
ied to walk bravely in her
rons and to smile at her
en she met their troubled
eyes. At first she broke the thing
continual! J. for she was an active
child, mne h given to jumping off chairs
and pls^iz g at cifons on the big old
sofa. Bn; by and by all her desire to
jump and run left her. . She grew high
shouldered and would sit very still for
hours, w lile her ✓Daddy told hhr
stories, or drove her behind Roland in
a little basket carriage he had bonght
for her. Traly the iron had entered
into her soul, the ornel iron that
cramped she child's soft bod}
Gabrielle' i eyes grew larger and larger,
and her elkin more pointed, while the
once plump little hands were wl
the petals of the pear blossom outside
the nursery window.
“I wish people wouldn’t ask me
abont it; they are kind, but
they wouldn’t,” Gabrielle would say.
“I’m tired of telling them abont the
socket, and I’m not ‘a poor little soul’
—I’m Daddy’s little lady!”
EjjSl
I"jljjr ■■ .
G'ULS
m-
TTiiftn
dy’s little lady!”
There cjsme to Jack Ainslie a very
old oollegi>friend; a doctor, Gabrielle’s |
g dfather and devoted to her, and he
waa supremely dissatisfied with M
treatment and implored tnem to ti£
her to see) a young surgeon, a friend
of his own, who was making a great J
name and doing wonders for everyone
who camel under his care. Jack Ains-
lie and his wife needed bnt smaller*
suasion, and it was decided that Ga-
brielle should go to London as soon 1
as possibl >.
What hastened the visit was this:
Gabrielle was devoted to fairy lore
and a favorite play of hers was to be a
beautiful princess who is freed from
giants an<l dragons*, and lions by the
gallant “Boots” of the Norse tales.
Her father always acted the part of
that red; ubtable third son and was i
wont to kneel before her, making ex
travagant protestations of his devb
tion, whic h she accepted with gracious |
condescension. On this particular af-
ternoon, ; net after tea, her father pro-
posed to play the favorite game, but l
Gabrielle would have none of it.
“I can’t be a princess any more,
Daddy; I’m suup no princess ever
wore an instrument!” she saic
don’t feelj like a princess any more at
all.”
Het fa .her caught her up in his
arms with a great hard sob, whioh
frightened her, and she strol
face, saying tenderly:
“Don’t be sorry, dew, dear Dad! I
didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ll be a
princess; € will indeed! I will feel
like apriicess, really!”
The next day Jack Ainslie and his
wife took Gabrielle up to town. They
didnoteren take the faithful Nana,
for Gabrielle’s mother oould hardl]
bear to lett any hands but here
her darling, ever since the day th»J
the ringmaster had made his sad d^
covery. ™
Mary j dnfelie took Gabrielle to
new doe or the fallowing mornjf
while Jack sat in the smoking-rod
the hotel lighting innumerable f
which he did not smoke, and
over illui trafced papers whio]
not see. Then he tnrned
hotel and walked down,
blundering into the
when he crossed the .road
ridden over by an omni
and stupid was he in
row. Poor Jack! His honed
was very full of grief, for he lc<j
little lady dearly, and he felt
less -something were done quiol
would soon hare nothing but a ten!
memory to love.
Gabrielle and her • mother
shown into the new doctor’s consul
ing-roomi at onoe. He was a tall youi
man with red hair and keen gre<
eyes. Her mother undressed Ga
rielle, all but the “instrument,’ whictj
clasped the tender little body an<]
seemed so cruelly "unnecessary,
young doctor frowned when h<
it; then he took it off himself,
Gabrielle noticed that his touch w
gentle a|s her mother's and thiJI
hands wire warm. She gave a
little shgke when she was free *
a little wriggle and jump of
Then thi doctor made her walk!
felt her all over, after whioh he
her up ik a big fur rug, \o sit ii\
of the flije, while he went into tbn
room with her mother. ThejJ
not long away, and on. their
Gabrielli looked at the dootq
bright, carious eyes.
instrument htuj
he ask<
Gabrielle looked at it as
feebly against a chair, am
“It does, rather; but it
not to. I think-”
“Weill any way, yon'rej
wear it any more; are yoj
“But what will the
*'Bles4 the ohild; ,
I
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Wood, H. G. The Cuero Daily Record. (Cuero, Tex.), Vol. 9, No. [106], Ed. 1 Wednesday, November 30, 1898, newspaper, November 30, 1898; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth834718/m1/3/: accessed May 4, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Cuero Public Library.