Litchfield enquirer., 1868-02-13

6 It struck the woodwork of the chimney D piece and made dent in it. The sight SC d bered Timmins, in moment. He locke ! at his heavy boot, and the mark which i d had made, and then at the the little child a ' whom the kick had been aimed. Turnin,
 away, he hid his face in his hands and fair f ly burst into tears. God forgive me- h. | said, I'm worse than brute; but it. l enough to drive man out of his senses t and then as Johnny, to young to be con scious of his escape, peered wonderingl, up, he lifted the child in his arms, anc l kissed his curly head, saying, Well wife come what may, we will do our duty by 3 this child. He shant want while we have anything to give him; and if we starve, he can but starve with us.'
 5 The next day, Inspector John Timmin: was summarily dismissed from the employ } ment of the G. 0. Railway Company with out q character
 Land in sight!' What magic there is ir those words as they fly from lip to lip or , board homeward-bound vessel. How the passengers come crowding up to catch the first glimpse of England, nearing moment. arily; what agitated grasps of the hand there are between new friend, what recon. citations between ancient foes! Watch fol a moment the deck of the Flying Cloud, homeward-bound from the Australian gold. d1ggings. Yonder is man, the centre o1 an excited group; he is the fortunate pos sessor of good binocular, an invaluable treasure at such 8 moment On this side sits woman who one may tell, from he, deep mourning, has laid her husband to rest In that distant Ian l; she strives in yam to see the coast with eyes blurred and WI tno~ L
 way home for education in the old coun- try; one may be sure, by the. bright ont. look he keeps, that the prospect before him is pleasant! there stands a man who left England so many years ago, that he is wondering whether any, will be alive to greet him on his return. An, what hopes, what fears, what beating hearts and strain Ing eyes the good ship bears along as she comes bounding home to England!
 in the midst of such scene, four years after the events narrated in the last chap ter, husband and wife were standing to- gether, quietly and earnestly gazing tow ards land. The woman s face was pale and calm, but a wistful look in the gray eyes, and some deep lines about the mouth, told their story of past trouble. Her husband hale burly north-countryman, from the class perhaps of yeoman farmers, looked as If no cloud had ever rested on his hand some face; both were plainly, but we'll dressed Well, the man was saying I've come pack to old England sight richer than left 1t, that is certain. That last haul did my business, and glad enough I shall be to be safe at home again; then, as ms Wife did not immediately reply, he ad- ded' kindly; Come, cheer up, Jane. know what you are thinking of; but you need not be so down-hearted. We are sure to find him.
 'Ah, don't know, the woman said, sadly I 1 -r savr-->s be dead and gone by this time, I leave himr '' 'A - n A. ''sf-na
 Well, my girl, I don't wonder at it, re piled the man in his hearty voice. You would have stuck to him, I know, as long las you had bit of bread to put into his mouth; and when you had not I do not know but what you did the best you could for him..
 The woman looked up gratefully to her big husband, but tears filled her eyes. She took the great brown hand and stroked 1t softly, saying, You are sure you forgive everything that went before-before I left England?'
 ''Why, what are you talking about Jen- ny? Didn't tell you the day we married that bygones should be bygones; eh, little woman? and haven't you been the best of wives to me for three years since then? It's just the sight of England makes you foolish and nervous-ike. You'll be all right as soon as we get there." There was a little pause and then the wife said timid- ly,-
 "Harry,-I've never told you exactly how I came to leave my baby, and to- to take the box. should like to tell you now"
 '"Well my dear he answered, without a shadow crossing his face, ''tell me now, if it will be any comfort to you; but don't feel obliged to-"
 ''No," she replied drumming softly with her fingers upon the side of the vessel, "I should like to do it. After--after he desert ed me, you know, we really were starvin g my baby and I. That morning we had been wandering about all night in the cold and he cried for bread, and had none to give him. An, me! I can hear that little cry now! At last, we came near the rail- way station, and l could see the warm fire through the waiting-room window; wasn t fed, and all the courage went out of me. Iput him down by the entrance, thinking perhaps some passenger might take pity on him. And then I watched un- der cover of the darkness and saw them take him to the workbouse. Oh, what miserable. miserable place for a little child!'
 My poor girl!' said her husband com tpassionately, as she stopped choked by her tears.
 I ''The next day I was prowling about near the workhouse,-I. couldn't go far from it, it always seemed to pull me back when came to jewellers shop, where g lady was going in with snuff box to be mended. I could see her unfolding the parcel, and then the jewels sparkling upon it. Ilonged for food that 1t would have bought, and thought. how cruel Goo was to give her that splendid costly thint and take my baby, my only treasure from me-"
 She waited moment and then went on l her eyes fixed upon her dim outline of thu , distant shore. 'sThe shopman left th shop, and the lady walked toward the doc r holding the box. Idon't know what posses r sed me then. Irushed in, and snatched it ou g of her hand and ran away. There was hue and cry for police, and the next mo r ment could hear them behind me.
 tried to run faster, but on turning Q corn 2 fer ran up against man. It stopped me