The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-03-28
THE DRovER,s STORY.

drover; live miles and miles away, upon
the Western prairie. There wasn't a home
within sight when we moved there nv wife
and 1, and now we haven't many neighbors
though those we have are good ones.
One day, about ten years ago, I went away
from home to sell some fifty head of cattle
fine creatures as ever 1 saw. was to buy
some groceries and dry goods before I came
back; and, above ALL g doll for our young
est Dolly. She had never had 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 cali
after me to 'buy big one Nobody but
parent can understand how full my mind
was OF that toy, and how, when the cattle
were sold, the first thing, hurried off to
buy Dolly's doll: found large one, with
eyes that would open and shut when YOU
pulled wire, and had it wrapped up in pa
per, and tucked it under my arm, while I
had the parcels of calico and delaine, and
tea and sugar put up. Then, late as it was.
started for home. It might have been
moro prudent to stay until morning, but T
felt anxious to get back, and eager to hear
Dollv's prattle about her toy
1 was mounted on a steady going old
horse OF mine. and pretty well loaded.
Night set in before [ was mile from town,
and settled down dark as pitch while T was
in the middle of the widest bit of road I
know of. Ioould have felt my way though.
l remembered it SO well; and it was almost
that, when the storm that had been brewing
broke, and pelted the rain in torrents, five
miles, or, ay-be, six, from home yet too.
rode on as fast as I could, but all of a
sudden l heard little cry like child's
voice. stopped short and listened-I
heard it again. I called, and it answered
me-. 1 couldn't see thing; all was dark as
nil mot ILL
grass-called again, and again was an
swered. Then began to wonder. I'm not
tlmld, but was known to be drover, and
to have money about me. It might be
trap to catch me unawares and rob and
murder me.
am not superstitious-no very, but how
could real child be out on the prairie in
such night, at such an hour. It might be
more than human.
The bit of @ coward that hides itself in
most men showed itself to me then, and 1
was half inclined to run away, but once
more I heard that cry, and said I:
eff any mans child is hereabouts. An
thony Hunt is not the man to let it die"
- searched again. AT last I bethought me
OF hollow under the hill, and CROPPING that
way, sure enough l found q little dripping
thing, that moaned and sobbed as took it
IN my arms. I called my horse, and the
oeast came 10 me, and l mounted, and
tucked the lit. soaked thing under nv
coat as we'll as 1 could, promising to take it
home to nanny. It seemed tired to death,
and pretty soon cried itself to sleep against
my bosom.
1t had slept there over an hour, when I
saw my own windows. There were lights in
them, and supposed my wife had lit them
for my sake; but when | got into the door
yard l saw something was the matter, and
stood still, with dead fear Of heart. five
minutes before 1 could lift the latch. At
last did it, and saw the room full of neigh
oors, and my wife amidst them weeping.
When she saw me, she hid her face. SOh.
don't tell him." she said, ''It will kill him. "
What is it, neighbors?" 1 cried.
And one said: ''Nothing now; hope
WHAT'S that in your arms?"
"A poor, lost child" said l. "I found it
on on the {, road Take it. will you, I've turned
faint, and [ lifted the sleeping thing and
saw the face of my own child, nv little
Dolly. ~
1t was NJ darling, and none other, TINT
had pirled up upon the drenched road.
My little child had wandered out to meet
daddy" and the doll, while her mother was
at work. and whom thay xvara jon,o,t;... : .