Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1869-05-06

s~.-~- ----.--..- --~- .-'-
WESTERN DRovER's STORY.
Ny name is Anthony Hunt am drover, and
live miles and miles away upont the Western prai-
rie. There wasn't home within sight when we
moved there, my wife aud ], and now We havn
many neighbors, though those we have are good
ones. -, ....# .. =.
One day, about ten years ago. went away from
home to sell some fifty head Of cattle-hne crea-
tures as ever saw. I was to buy some groceries
and dry goods before came back, and, above ali,
doll for our youngest Dolly; she had never had q
store doll Of her own, only the rag babies her moth
er had made her, .sts:sf i:5::.s 80.
Dolly could talk Of nothing else, and went down
to the very gate to call after me to 'buy big one.
Nobody but a 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 Dol.
ly's doll I found large one, with eyes that would
open and shut when you pulled wire, and had it
wrapped up in paper, and tucked it under my arm,
while had the parcels of calico and delaiDe and
tea and sugar put up Then, late as it was, start.
ed for home. It might have been more prudent to
stay until morning, but felt anxious to get back,
and eager to hear DoNy's prattle about her doll.
was mounted on steady going old horse Of
mine, and pretty well loaded Night set in before
I was o mile from town, and settled down dark as
pitch while was in the middle of the widest bit
ofroad know Of Ieoud have felt my way through,
I remembered it so well, andit was almosthke feel
ing it when the storm that had been brewing broke
and the rain pelted in torrents; five miles, or may
be six, from home yet, too. ...r.. ..,-.
I node on as fast as could, but all Of 70 sudden /
heard little cry like child's voice stopped
short and listened II heard it again called, and
it answered me. I couldn't see a thing; all was
dark as pitch. got down and felt about in the
gass-called again, and again was answered. Then
I began to wonder. I'm not timid, 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. ...- ..,
I am not superstitious- very ; but how could
real child be out in the prairie in such night,
at such an hour? It might be more than human
The bit of q coward that hides itself in most men
showed itself to me then, and was half inclined
to run away, but once more I heard that cry, and
said I: .... ....
''f any mans child is hereabouts Anthony
Hunt is not the man to let it die"
7 searched again. AT last I bethought me Of q
hollow under the hill, and CROPPED that way. Sure
enough, found a little dripping thing that moan
ed aud sobbed as took it in my arms i called
my horse, and the beast came to me- and mount
ed, and tucked the little soaked thing under my
coat as well as I 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 saw my
own windows. There were lights in them, and l
supposed my wife had lit them for my sake; but
when got into the door yard saw something was
the matter, and stood still with dead fear Of heart
five minutes before could lift the latch. At last
did it, and saw the room full of neighbors, and my
wife amidst them weeping. -.. ... .,-
When she saw me she bid her face. "Oh, don't
tell him" she said 1T will kill him."
"What Is it neighbors?" l cried.
And one said, Nothing now, I hope. What's
that in your arms?'
"A poor, lost child" said L II found it on the
road. Take it, will you, I've turned faint, and I
lifted the sleeping thing and saw the face ofmy own
child, my little Dolly
1t was my darling and none other, that I had
picked up upon the drenched road.
My little child had wandered out to meet ''dad-
dy" and the doll, while her mother was at work,
and whom they were lamenting as one dead. I
thanked Heaven on my knees before them ALL 1t
is not much of story, neighbors, but think oft
often in the nights, and wonder how could bear
to live now if I had not stopped when 1 heard the
cry for help upon the road-the little baby cry,
hardly louder than a squirrels chirp.
That's Dolly yonder with her mother in the mea-
dow, girl worth saving-I think (but then I'm
her father, and partial, may-be) the prettest and
sweetest thing this side Of the Mississippi.