5 Ths Daity Reporter. D. C. IRELAND A CO. PUBLISHERS. McMinnville, Or. - - Feb. 8, 1887 THE HALF-CASTE. AN OLD GOVERNESS’S TALE— FO’NDED ON FACT. BY MIS-. MUI.OCK. “We know what we are, but we know not what we may be,” as my quaintly clever aivee aud name-child. Cassia, a great reader and quoter of Shakspeare, would »ay. And truly, • who could have thought that I, a plain governess, should su mv old age nave Become a writer. Yet I cannot invent a plot—I must write nothing but truth. Here I pause, recollecting painfully that in my first sentence I have sinned against Until by entitling Cassia my “niece and name-child,” when, strictly •peaking, she ia neither the one north« other. She is no blood-relation at all, and ndy own uanii happens to be Cas sandra. I alw«s /Usliged it heartily until Mr. Sutherland called me—— But I forgot that I must explain a little. Mr. Sutherland was—no, thank Hear- I $nl—is, a vefy good man; a friend of my late father, and of the same busi ness—an Indian merchant. When in my twenty-fifth year my dear father died, and we were ruined—a quiet way of expressing this, but in time one i learns to speak so quietly of every pang j —Mr. Sutherland was very kind to my ! mother and to me. I remember, as i though it were yesterday, one day, i when he sat with us in our little parlor, i and healing my mother calling me “Cassie,” said laughingly that I always ; put him in mind of a certain Indian ; spice. “In fact,” he added, looking af- j fectionately at my dear, gentle, little , mother, and approvingly—yes, it was*! approvingly at me—“in fact, I think j we three sitting thus, with myself in 1 the center, might be likened to myrrh, aloes, and cassia.” One similitude was untrue; for he was not bitter but “sweet as summer.” However, from that time he always called me Cassia. I rather iike the name, and latterly it was very kind of him to------- There I am forestalling history again! When I was twenty-five, as I said, I first went out as governess. This plan was the result or many consultations* between my mother and myself. A hard thing waaniy leaving home; but I found I could thereby earn a larger and more regular salary, part of which be ing put by, woutd sometime enable me ! to live altogether with my mother. Such were her plannings and hopes for the futqre. As for my own------- But it is idle to dwell upon things so long past. God knew best, and it all comes : to t he same at the end of life. It was through Mr. Sutherland that I 1 got my first situation. Il* wrote my > mother a hurried lettei, saying he had arranged for me to enter a family con cerning whom he would explain before my departure. But something hin dered his coming; it wnsa public meet ing, I remember; for, though still a young man. he w.-is held in much honor among the city merchants, and knew tlie affairs of India well, from early res- i idence there. Of course, having these I duties to fulfill, it was natural he should not recoiiect my departure; so I skirted without seeing him, and with- ■ out kno wing more of my future abode I than its name, and that of my employ er. It was a Yorkshire village, and the gentleman who.-u family I was going to was a Mr. Le Poor. , w My -long journey was dreary—God knows how dreary! in youth one suffers so much; and parting from my mother was any time a sufficient grief. In those days railways were not uumer* * ous, »mil had^jo'urndy a,wood Way by coach. About eleven at night I found myself at my destination. At the door a maid-servant appeared; no ; one else: it was scarcely to be expected .by “the governess.” This was a new and sad ‘coming home” to me. I was shown to my . bedroom, bearing, as 4 passed the. landing, much rustling of dresses and “ajulraiHg” awdy vf little feet. (I.ought to apologue for that odd expression, which I tlunk I learned when I w as quite a child, and used to go angling with my father and Mr. Sutherland. It means a scattering off in ail directions, as a shoal of minnows do when you throw a pebble among them.) Tasked if the family were gone to bed, and was informed “no;” so I ar ranged my dress and went down-stairs, unconsciously reassured by the fact th it the house was u itherso large no: s< aristocratic as mv very liberal salary h; d inclined me to expect. “Who shall I say. miss?” asked th rad.er ntidj servant, me *i:ig me in the lobby, and staring with til lit r eyes, as if a atnmgcr wore some rare sight. "Miss Pryor.” I said, thinking re gretfully that I should be henceforth that. and not “Cassia;” and seeing the ;. .. 4 still suiiml. I added, with an vfiort: “I mt the new uvcrness.” •so under that double .mnouncemeiiti 1 appeared at the parlor-door. The. room a as rather dark: there were two candle's; hut one had been extin guished, and was being hurriedly re- ligl.'ed : ih I entered. At first I saw nothing clearly: then I pefeived a lit tle :>ale lady sitting at m -emi of the table, ami two half-grown up girls, dte -.sed in “going-out-to-tea” costume,( > >al >d primly together on the sofa. There was a third; but she vanished out, of one door as I entered the other. "Mass Pryor, I believe?” said a timid! voice—so timid that I could hardly be lieve that it was a lady addressing her governess. I glance t at her: she was a little woman with pale hair and light eyes — frightened-looking eyes — that just rose at- I f >!l in a minute. I said “I was Miss Pryor, and con hided I ad-, dressed Mrs. Le Poer.” she answered, “Yes, yes;” and held out., hesitatingly, a thm, cold, bird-like hand, which I took rather warmlv than otherwise; for I felt really sorry for her evident ner vousness. It seemed so strange for anybody to be afraid of me. “My daughters. Miss Pryor,” she then said, in a louder tone. Whereupon the two girls rose, courtesied, blushed—seem ingly more from awkwardness than modesty—and sat down again. I shook hands with both, trying to take the in itiative, and make myself sociable and at home—a difficult matter, my position feeling much like that of a fly in an ice house. “These are my pupils, then?” said I, cheerfully. “Which is Miss Zillah?”— for I remembered Mr. Sutherland had mentioned that name in his letter, and its peculiarity naturally struck me. rhe mother and daughters looked rat her blankly at each other; and the former said: “This is Miss Le Poor and Miss Matilda—Zillah is not in the room at present.” “Oh, a third sister?” I observed. “No,” rather pertly answered Miss Le Poer; “Zill is not our sister at all. but only a sort of distant relation of pu s, whom he is very kind to and maintains at his own expense, and who mends our stockings and brushes our hair of nights, and whom we are very kind to also.” “Oh, indeed!” was all I said in reply to this running stream of very provin cially-spoken and unpunctuated Eng lish. 1 was rather puzzled, too; for if my memory was correct and I general ly remembered Mr Sutherland's let i rs very clearly, probably because they were themselves to clear—he had par ticularly mentioned my future pupil. Zillah Le Poer. and no’ Miss Le Poer besides. I waited with some curiosity for the girl's reappearance: at last I ventured to say : I should like to see Miss Zillah. I understood”—here I hes itated, but thought afterward that plain speech was best—“I understood from Mr. Sutherland that she was to be my pupil.” “Of course, of course," hastily said the lady, ami I fancied she colored slightly. “Caroline, fetch your cous in.” ( aroline sulkily went out. ami shortly returned, followed by a girl older than herself, though clad in childish. or rather servant fashion, with short pet ticoats. short aleevek. and a big brown- nouanu pimuore. y.)n woman t stay to bo dressed.” explained Chtbline. in a louu wnisper to ner motner; at wmen Mrs. Le Poer locked more nervous and uncomfortable than ever. MeaiiwJtiltil observed mv pupil. I oad fancied fhe Zillah so carerimy in trusi etl to irfy eare by Mr. Sutherland to be a grown young lady, who only wanted “finishing ’ I even thought site might be a beauty. With sòme sur prise. I found hpr a half-caste girl — With an olive complexion, full Hindoo M m , and eyee very black and bright. Sne was untidily dreaaad; which looked the worse. lince «be almost a do- m*n. grown; though ber dull, heavy race had the stupidity of an ultra-etu- pid child. I saw All tbie; tor somehow —prooamy Because 1 Iran tiegnr or ner irom a certain redness or ’ms eyes, i before—I examined the girl rather could not help suspecting he hail well closely. Zillah herself stared at me supped before st ill, t hat did not pre much as if I had been a wild animal, vent his asking for wine; and having and then put her Anger in her mouth politely drank With me, he composed with a babyish air. himself to have a little confidential “IIow do you do, my dear?” said I, talk while he finished the decan desperately,’feeling th’it ill four pair of ter. family-eye’s were upon me. “I hope “Miss Pryor, do you correspond with we shall be good friends soon.” And I Mr. Sutherland?* put out my hand. The abruptness of bis ques* ion start At first the girl seemed not to under led me. I iclt my cheeks tingling as I stand that 1 meant to shake lu:nds with answered most truthfully, “No.” her. Then she irresolutely poked out “Still, von are a dear and valued her brown fingers, having first taken friend of his, he tells me?” the precaution to wipe them on her 1 felt glad, so getd that I forgot to pinaiore. 1 made another remark or ' make the due answer about Mr. Suth two about my being her governess, and erland’s being “very kind." her studying with her cou-ins. at which 1 Mv host had (»rot ibly gained the in she opened her large eyes with a dull j formation he wanted, and became com amaze, but I never heard the sound of municative on his part. “1 ought, my her voice. dear young lady, to explain a few things It must have been now near twelve concerning yt nr pupils, which have o’clock. I thought it odd the girls been thus accidently omitted by my should be kept up so late; and began at friend, Mr Sutherland, who could not last to speculate whether I was to see better have acceded to my request Mr. Le Poer. My conjecture» were than by sending a lady like yourself to soon set at rest by a loud pull at the instruct my family.” Here he bowed, door-bell, which made Mrs. Le Poer and 1 bi»wed. We did a great deal in spring up from her chair, and Zillah that way of dumb civility, as it saved vanish like lightning. The two oth him trouble and me words. "My er^ sat cowed, with their hands before daughters you have seen. They are. 1 them, and 1 myself felt none of the Indieve. tolerably well informed for bravest. So upon this frightened such mere children." I wondered if I group the master of the house walked had rightly judged them at thirteen and in. fourteen. “Mv only trouble. Miss Pry “Hullo, Mrs. I j « Poer! Cary! Zill, or. is concerning tiiy niece.” Here I you fool! Confound it, where’s the sup looked surprised, not suspecting Zillah per?” (I might have asked that, too, to be so near a relative. “I call her Being very hungry.) “What the deuce niece through habit, and for the sake are you all about?” of her father, my poor deceased broth “My dear!” whispered the wife, be er.” continued Mr. Le Poer, with a seechingly, as she met him at the door, lengthened and martyr-like visage; and seemed pointing to me. •but In truth she has no legal claim to Certainly I could not have believed belong to my family Mv brother— sad that the voice I just heard belonged to fellow always lu ll.in life not over- the gentleman who had now entered. scrupulous -ties between natives and The gentleman, 1 repeat; for I never E’lropenns: in fact, my dear Miss Pry saw one who more thoroughly looked or. Zillah’s mother------- You under- tlie character. He was about fifty, very stsnflV” handsome, very w ell dressed—his whole To be Continued. mien bespeaking that stately, gracious courtliness which now, except in rare SEVENTH ANNUAL instances, belongs to a past age. Bow ing, ha examined me curiously, with a look that somehow or other made me uncomfortable. He seemed viewing over my feminine attractions as a horse- dealer does the points of a new bargain. But soon the interest of the look died away. 1 knew he considered me as all others did—a very plain and shy young woman, perhaps lady-like (I believe I was that, for I heard of some one saying so), but nothing more. “I have the pleasure of meeting Miss Pryor?” said he, in an ultra-blanu tone, which, after his first coarse manner, would have positively startled me, hail I not noticed that the two are often combined in the same individual. (I always distrust a man who speaks in a very mild, measured, womanish voice.) —AT— I mentioned the name of his friend, Mr. Sutherland. “Oh, I recollect,” said he stiilly; “Mr. I Sutherland informed you that—that ------- ” lie evidently wished to find Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, out exactly what I knew of himself and February 22<1, 23d and 24th, bis family. 1887. Now. it being always iny habit to speak the plain truth, I saw no reason ; why I should not gratify him; so I stat- i LIST OF PRIZES. ed the simple facts of our friend's letter: to my mother—that he had found for ' There will be prizes Riven tn the following me a situation in the family of a Mr. i named exhibits: 1st and 2d pnz.e for beat and 2d bi nt ex Le Poer, and had particularly charged hibit of Kensington painting. me with completing the education of 1st and 2d prize, for best and 2d beat Ex Miss Zillah Le Poer. hibit of Kensington < in broidery. "Oh!” said Mr. Le Poer. “Were 1st and 2d prize, tor beat and 2d heat ex those all your instructions, my dear hibit of outline work by a child ruder 14 Miss Pryor?” he added, insinuat-: years of age. ingly. I al and 2d la-at, for bcRt and 2d beat ex I answered that I knew no more, hibit of work of any kind by a boy under 14 having missed seeing Mr. Sutherland years of age. I st and 2d prize, for beat and 2d t*eat ex before I came away. “Then you come quite a stranger into hibit of orayon work. There will also be a prize River: for ths my family? I hope you have received heaviest, lightest and prettiest baby under 1 the hearty welcome a stranger should of age. receive, and I trust you will soon cease year Following is a list of prize® offered: Forth« to merit that name.” So saving, he prettiest baby, gold necklace; lightest and graciously touched the tipH of my lin heaviest baby under one year of age, each a gers, and in mellifluous tones ordered gold ring; outline work by a child under supper, gently reproaching his wife for fourteen years, first prize, ear rings, second having delayed that meal. "You know, : prize, s rap book; KeiiHington embroidery, my dear, it »as a pity to wait for mo; ; first prize, napkin rit.g, second prize, box and Miss Pryor must be needing re writing pn|mr; kensington paintiuu, first prize, manicure set, second prize, bracket; freshment.” Indeed I was is* i literally f Aim shed, i orayon work, first prize, tmper holder, setwad pitcher; boy’s work, first prize, paper The meal was ordinary enough—mere Erize, older, seoond prize, inkstand. bread, blitter and cheese; but Mr. Le- Poer did the honors with most gentle Parade of Firemen Tucutla) af ternoon. manly courtesy. I thought, never did J I * a poor governess meet with such atten tion! The girls did not sup with us; Doors will be open at 7 o’clock, they had taken the earliest opportunity p. m. dally, during the of disappearing; nor was the HAlf-Ctude FMlr. cousin again visible. We ha<T loon m r- All are invited to AUend— done eating—that is, Mrs. La Poer and I; for the gentleman seemed soindHIer- Admission 25 Cents. ent to the very moderate attractions By Order of C ommittbs . of bis table, that from this fact, and FIREMAN'S FAIR Garrison Opera House,