Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1869-05-13
THEDR0VER'S STORY

: hl4ASo away uPOA L1O VCotCin pA al
? RE. There wasn't a home within
D sight when we moved there, M
rlwife and /, and now we haven
many neighbors, though those W.
have are good ones.
Il One day about ten years ago,
went away from home to sell some
fifty head of cattle-fine creatures
as / ever saw. / was to buy some
groceries and dry goods before ]
came back, and above all, a dol
for our youngest, Dolly. She had
never had a store doll of her own,
only the rag-babies her mother had
made her.
Dolly could talk Of nothing else,
and went down to the very gate
to call after met to ''buy a big one. "
Nobody but parent can under
stand how full my mind was of
that toy, and how, when the cattle
were sold, the first thing, I hurried
of to buy DolIy's doll. l found
a large one, with eyes that would
open and shut when you pulled a
wire, and had it wrapped up in a
paper and tucked it undermy arm,
while l had the parcels of calico
and delaine and tea and sugar put
up. Then, late as it was, | start
ed for home. Itmight have been
more prudent to stay until morn
ing, but l felt anxious to get back,
and hear Dolly prattle about her
toy.
| was mounted on a steady go
ing old horse of mine, and pretty
well loaded. Night set in before
| was a mile from town, and set
tied down dark as pitch while l
was in the middle of the widest
bit of road l know of. / could
have felt my way, though, | re-
membered it so well, and it was
almost dark when the storm that
had been brewing broke, and pelt-
ed the rain in torrents, five miles,
or may be, six, from home yet, too.
rode as fast as | could, but all
of a sudden | heard little cry
like child's voice ! ! stopped short
and listened-l heard it again. L
called and it answered me. Il
couldn't see a thing; all was dark
as pitch. | got down and felt a.
bout in the grass-called again and
again was answered. Then | be-
gan to wonder. I'm net timid, |
but | was known to be q drover
and to have money about me. 1t
might be a trap to catch me una
wares and ROB and murder me.
l am not superstitious-not
very, but how could real child
be out on the prairie in such
night, at such an hour. 1t might
be more than human.
The bit of a coward that hides
itself in most men showed itself in
me then, and l was half inclined
10 run away. but once more Il,
heard that cry, and said 1:
"It any mans child is herea-
bouts, Anthony Hunt is not the
man to let it die"
/ searched again. At last l be- ,
thought me of a hollow under the
bill, and grOping that way, sure
enough, | found little dripping
thing that moaned and sobbed as
| took 1t in my arms. ] called
my horse, and the beast came to
me, and / mounted, and tucked ,
the little thing under my coat as !
well as / could, promising to take ,
It home to nanny. 1t seemed {
tired to death, and pretty soon
cried itself to sleep on my bosom.
1t had slept there over an hour :
when | saw my own windows /
There were lights in them, and I |
my wife had lit them for I
my sake, but when l got into the !
loor yard | saw something was /
he matter, and stood still with a
Tread fear at heart, five minutes
before / could lift the latch. At
asst / did it, and saw the room
1ull Of neishbors, and my wife a.
midst them weeping. 1
When she saw me she hid her
ace. "0h, don't tell him." she
aid, ''it will kill him." ]
"What is it, neighbors?' ] cried. /
And one said, ':nothing new, Ia