The Shasta courier., 1867-04-27
GIVING AWAY THE BABY.
A MOTHERS STORY.

could do nothing but sit and think over it,
and try to realize how it could be So Only
the Sunday before he had been sitting with
me, watching the baby, as he sat in the sun
slime, laughing and clapping his little hands
as the shadows OF the trees were flung across
the bare floor and moved by the passing
breeze. Now the child was sitting in the
same place, the warm October sun streaming
IN on his bright curls and making him look
SO pretty-so like picture but his father
was gone from us forever
1t seemed to me | must see his dear face
once more; that he would surely lift the
latch and come in, and take our child up.
and say, as he so often did, Mother, what
would you take for this little brother?'
Even the baby missed him, and would
come and stand at my knee, calling, Papa
papa! 7 until l thought my heart would
break. The two Oldest children were at
school, the rest were out playing, so that
was quite alone. By and by the baby was
tired of his play and came and got into my
lap.
Mamma cry-mamma mustn't, he lisped
out, and wiped my wet face with his little
chubby hands but l could only hold him
closer to me and then cry more bitterly.
Just then Mr.. and Mrs. Lorrimer drove
up in their handsome carriage. They lived
not far off, and were our richest neighbors
When | had invited them in and dried my
tears little, they seemed at loss how to
begin the conversation, but Charlie had slid
away from my side, and went and stood at
the lady's knee, and, pointing at her heavy
gold bracelet, said, Pretty, pretty, in his
childish way. She took it off and gave it to
him, saying:
Won't you come to be my little boy,
Charle?'
My heart took fright at once. They had
no children, and | seemed to feel as plainly
as If they had told me that they had come
for one of mine.
No, no, mother couldn't spare him. l
said, quickly snatching him away-almost
rudely, fear
My dear woman began Mr. Lorrimer,
have you thought seriously of the impossi.
bility of your getting along with five children
under twelve Years of age? It has required
all your husbands efforts to make Il living
for you-how can you hope to do it without
him !?
We ofer,' joined in his wife, to take the
most helpless of your little ones, to give him
all the advantages we would our own child
and surely you must see Gods hand in it,
l need not tell you how long | withstood
their arguments, but at last overcome by
their entreaties, l consented to consider the
matter. l never mentioned their visit to
any of the children, ard l had changed my
mind almost every hour since l had seen
them. AT last, convinced that it was for the
child's good, | consented to give him up
When | went to dress him to 90, my resolu
tion almost failed me. | fingered over every
article put on him, and made every dear
curl over and over before l could get it to
please me; and | kissed his little white
shoulders until they were all rosy. At
length he was ready and | thought he never
looked SO pretty. lie was full of animation,
for he was old enough to know what it meant
to go riding ard he clapped his hands and
laughed at the horses as they were driven
up. | handed him to his new mother (the
children supposed he was to come back soon),
and he never even looked at me. OL. how
jealous my aching heart grew.
When came back into the house the first
thing my eyes fell upon was his cradle. |
could only throw myself on it and sob aloud.
Then came the trial of telling the truth to
the children. None of them seemed recon-
ciled, and | felt that the worst was to come
when the two oldest returned from school
| almost dreaded to meet them, especially
Willie; be was like his father, SO quiet and
calm outwardly, but hiding beneath his ap-
parent coldness the strongest, deepest feel
ings. But the others went to meet them as
they came home, and l was pleasantly dis
appointed in the way the oldest took it. He
seemed to feel that had done it for the best,
and that be must hide his sorrow for my sake.
He was more thoughtful for my comfort,
gentler than ever only very still and grave.
The day ended, as the longest will, at last,
and it came time to 60 to bed. had taken
Willie down stairs to sleep near me since his
fathers death the other children slept just
above us. Well, when / came to lie down,
there was the empty pillow Baby had
always laid his little rosy face as close to
mine as he could get it, and slept with one
little warm hand on my neck. All my grief
broke out afresh when l thought of him
Willie raised up at last, and said, earnestly
Mother, it's Charlie you are crying for,
isn't it?'
Yes l answered. 1 know it's for the
best; but it's so hard to give him up
Mother continued the child, when father
died we knew it was for the best, because
God took him from us but I've been think.
ing ever since we laid down how poor little
Charlie must be crying for you, and how
God gave him to us, to love him and keep
him, and now you have given him away
If lie had meant him to be Mr.. and Mrs.
Lorrimers baby, wouldn't He have given
him to them at frst?'
The childs words carried more weight
with them than all the arguments of my
rich neighbors. After considering a moment
| said, impulsively.
'Oh if | only had him back, be should
never go away again, no matter how poor we
might be-
The moon was shining so brightly that it
was almost as light as day, aud presently
Willie said:
Mother, it's only half mile across the
fields, and they won't 90 to bed for long
time at Mr.. Lorrimer's let US 60 and get
Charlie. Why, mother, seem 70 hear him
crying now.'
Urged by the child's entreaties and the
fond promptings of my own heart, consent
ed / think | never walked half mile SO
quickly in my life, and neither of us spoke
| until we reached the mansion. Then we
stopped moment for breath, and sure