The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1868-05-23

compsnions 70 follow more slowly With their
sadder and heavier burden.
Anita, who had been standing ut the win
dow, straining her eyes into the darkness,
and listening In swe-struck silence TO the
boom Of the breakers and the rush and roar
OF the storm outside, met him at the
door with outstretcbed arms and q look that
seemed 10 comprehend tbe situation In . mo-
ment. Scarce knowing why he did so, the
hardy fisherman laid the child IN her arms.
wonderful light suddenly broke over her
face.
"Oh, other! mother you can save
him - she cried.
The fsherman's wIfe was well versed in
all the lore Of ressoratives, and before two
hours had passed the poor little waif, thus
snaiched out of the sea, slept peacefully in
Anita's arms A royal child he was, strong
limbed aud beautiful, the blue mes t-work Of
veins showing with startling distinctness
through the white transparent skin Of bis
temples. His little garments testified to the
proud and tender care which had been taken
or II; but nothing found upon him or his
poor mother gave any clue to bis identity
The sea kept it's secret well, for no other
token Of the hapless wreck ever came to
land.
"Weli, mother" said John Grey's gruff
bot not unkindly voice, one day, "the little
'un must 60 10 the asylum, s'pose 2"
ri don't know" was the wife's hesitative
answer, the universal mother tenderness
looking through her eyes may be We could
keep il ourselves, john :"
"No 70 was the decided reply, "No the
child'll be well took care or there, and you
ha - - wmmt- - - u F. ~
tending, let alone its bein' hard enough
sometImes 70 put bread into the mouths of
our own"
Anita rose up from her seat by the fire,
with the baby gathered close to her throb-
bing heart, and stood before her father.
Some great change had come over her, for
brief moment the soul within seemed to
wres: from an untOward fate the boon Of
erect grace from the childish, misshappen
form. Two sparks liSe fire glowed in her
eyes, and her lips were pressed tightly to-
gelber.
"AnitaI Bless me what is ID ails the
child ?"
s'Fsther I" she said, pointing over her
shoulder; .'iather, am not like other chii-
dren. never can do what they do, or have
what they have. Somstimes l have thought
that was not VI any use. Give me the ba-
BY"
The fisherman tried to draw her down
upon his knee. There was q world Of un-
spoken tenderness in the rough caress.
"ChiId," he said, what could you do with
it-a little thing like you ~
"Oh could take care Of him know
Il Anow couldl" she answered, her voice
falling into low, recitative, the undertone
Of resistless emotion. mo one need min
him bot me, and would never be tired
Oh, father father God gave him to me out
OF the roaring seas-tO nse, father. You Won't
take him away 7"
He orew his coarse sleeve across his eyes.
What do you say, mother 2"
His wife was weeping.
"Anlta's handy little thing, and power
srful womanly Tor her age guess We
might let her try, fa'her.'
The unnatural glow faded from the cnld's
face, and the little strained figure relaxed,
and she sank down in her place, sobbing
hystericaly. As her tears fell on lte lore
head the babe turned uneasily bul on its
hrst low moan Anita was quiet in an instant.
A marvellous expression Of age and self-rt-
llance came into her face. She held the
child closer, and commencei a low, moaning
lullaby.
The fisherman rose and went out, beckon-
ing to his wife.
''Motber," he said, 'Ive notion lis Gods
work for the child-leastwise, can't gain
say herr
Moths were counted into years, and
thers Was no one to interfere with Anita's
strange adoption. The boy-"Rescued"
was the odd, old-fashioned name she gave
hIm-developec into wonderful beauty AMI
n seemed 10 hare no life but in him at her
home and among her neighbors she came to
be known only rs Smother Anita" or '.The
Little Mother.' So proud OF him she was
From the 6rst she seemed to have accepted
it as quiet certainty that be was fashion cd
OF finer material, and Of . higher sort OF
life, than she had known. She was never
quite content without him at her side. How
much she suffered as he grew cd enough "
be taken sometimes with her father aud bro
theirs in the boat, was hinted Dy the red glow
in her cheeks, and the restlessness of every
look and motioa, till she had him safely back
again.
City people, who began to find the little
village pleasant for q summers fishing or
bathing, were quick TO maxi friends with
the deformed glri, whose spiritual face, ra-
diant with love for her beautiful Young
charge, attracted them like some rare pic
ture. Many offered her gifts Of money,
which she declined with gentle gratitude,
asking Tor books instead-always adding
apologetically, "to teach him, you know.o
80 1t happened that q varied library accu-
muiated by degrees in her little chamber.
Az she read and studied, ghmpses Of new
world opened before her, but as the little she
learned only hunted at what she could never
know, the sad conviction forced itself upon
that she could, after all, never be her boys
teacher.
The great wrench Of her life came when
Rescued Was twelve years old.
Judge Thorne, with his wife and little
daughter, came down TO the sea shore, their
hearts sore for the loss Of their only boy.
The strong rese ublauce vf Rescued to her
dead child, as she chanced to see him for the
nIst time, playing on the beach and wher
his strange history was told her, she begged
her husband TO take him for their own.
When Judge Thorne preferred his request
to old John Grey, be shook his head.
"Not bot tw0ull DO the maxim of the
boy, Judge Thorne, but you see my darter
why the poor little mother would grievc
" oo@sn Reseuo0 suOutu DC tOok away
from her"
But ss the Judge stii urged, be said at
last, "there's no use talkin' but il you'd
like to hear what she'd say for herself, I'n
call her in, for there she comes-''
Anita came in, and Judge Thorne stood
half absshed before che quiet dignity which
comported 80 illswith the small deformed
6gare. Hsving once heard Auita speak, ore
must respect too much 70 pity her. Uncon-
sciously he dropped the manner with " hich
he he'd spoken 70 her father, and in q few
broken, half-felt sentences pleaded his doubt
ful caass.
AniA grew deadly pale, and her 6ngsr-tips,
rsasing on Q table beside her, were white
wltn pressure, but otherwiso she seemed
calm and quiet, never ioF cnce taking her
eyes from Judge Thorne's 4 .ce, reading him
| khrnugh and fbruugh.