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Updated: June 24, 2025
On coming in they unluckily took possession of the very room through which the ladies would pass in order to reach Mrs. Tinknor's apartment. Reassured by her hostess, Little Wolf pushed confidently forward, making bold and decisive charges at the obstructing doors, and in this manner, made her way directly into the presence of the two young gentlemen, Mr. Tinknor having gone in search of his wife.
Mrs. Sherman silently kissed her son, and, with a foreboding heart, withdrew to her own room. There were two letters written by lamp light in the old brown house, the day Edward left so unceremoniously. One was by Little Wolf to her confidential friend, Mrs. Tinknor. A few hasty hopeless lines traced upon the dainty sheet; a long glossy curl folded within and her task was done.
"Why, bless your heart my child," she exclaimed in dismay, "you have been using Aunt Betsy's cough medicine." Little Wolf threw herself on the bed convulsed with laughter, and Mrs. Tinknor heartily joined in the merry peals. "I came to tell you," said Mrs. Tinknor, when somewhat composed, "that a steamer has just arrived, and Mr.
"Well, well" said Tom, drawing a long breath, "I'm convinced Little Wolf will be a moping old maid, dressed in black, managing well her property, devising philanthropic plans for the benefit of paupers, she is getting too good for any man that lives." "The best of it is, she does not even know she is doing a good thing," said Mrs. Tinknor smilingly.
By ways and means known only to a masterly hand, Edward contrived on that eventful day to perform the feat, in which, no doubt, the whole Tinknor family combined would have failed. For when evening came on, and the company were assembled, Little Wolf most unexpectedly found herself in the midst, an object of universal interest. A more beautiful object could scarce have been found.
Tinknor, and, as Tom tenderly kissed the former, his charge to her was, "Take care of yourself, Fanny dear, for you know you have promised to be my little wife," and Flora said that was "wery, wery nice."
But the Doctor got 'long fust rate, when he fust got here; he didn't drink much and he made heaps of money, he and a crony of hisn, named Squire Tinknor. He lives in St. Paul now, and does the Doctor's business fur him yet. Ye see, Squire Tinknor can drink a barrel of liquor and not feel it, but the Doctor gets crazy enough, on nothing but lager.
A chill of horror crept over the Doctor, when mammy, the next morning, related to him, her pet's adventure. He wrote immediately to his friend, Squire Tinknor, for advice. "Send the child away to boarding school," was the counsel given, and forthwith, the Doctor acted upon it.
It was late in the month of December when Little Wolf received from Mrs. Tinknor the following sad account of the Death Angel's visit to the old brown house: "My dear child: What I am about to write will give you great pain, for I know how dearly you loved poor old Daddy, and how it will grieve you to hear that you will never see him again in this world.
"You see everything I have on is borrowed," said Little wolf, as Mrs. Tinknor was assisting her in undoing her wrappings, "but I hope to be at home in a day or two." "Home in a day or two!" interrupted Tom, "Not in a month or two, if I can prevent it." "I intend to be at home to-morrow, provided the steamers are still running," said the young lady decidedly.
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