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,