The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1870-01-28

not receiving any money, nor nearing
any news from Sam Sylvester, still
took care of the lovely little child as
1 if il had been her own. 1t had found
its place in her great tender heart,
and though she was poor she would
never give Polly up. The child was
six years old when Mrs. Moore died
suddenly, and being childless widow,
with no property to leave behind her,
Polly Sylvester was sent to the select
men of the town, aed by them bound
out to Miss TarbOx h-at
Two long years ago, and six months
beside, had Polly taken her place in
this new family-fOr it was not a new
home. When she came there she was
plump and rosy child, with rows of
shining chestnut curis, eyes as brown,
clear and large as fying-squirrel's,
and neatly dressed. To-day she was
what we have seen her; the long
drudgery, unkindness, improper food,
and no care, had made little Polly
fOrlOrn sight. We left her driving the
cows with ViOhly.
''Say, Polly, what makes you shiver
s0?' inquired the other little girl.
80, I'm dreadful cold; seems as if
ia freeze, VI!
al amt, the coffee was real warm"
''But didn't have any coffee, be-
cause didn't get up qnick."
90, XiOhly, | had such splendid
dream. Don't you know we had that
picture-paper Miss Slater let us take
one time. and it had about Christmas
i'm it; and how children somewheres
hanged up their stockings, and you
said it was real splendid, and YOU
wished your folks had Christmas;
md / said | guessed if my father and
mother WANT dead | should have one,
because mother Moore always told me
what clever folks they was? And
then don't yOH reck'lect that queer
picture of-let's see, what's his name?
oh, Santi Claus, film the stOckins?
Whay, Rainbow shouting to a COW
that left the line of march, tempted
by turnip-field with the bars down.
"Well, | dreamed that Santi Claus
came down chimney right there in
the garret somehow, and hung the
dreadfuiest big red stOckin' you ever
did see, clOst to the foot of my bed;
md when / looked at him he kinder
laughed and said, Get up, Polly, and
loOksin your stOekin'; it's Christmas
day So Hooked in, and the stOckiIlf
grew bigger md bigger, and there was
most splendid kind of wagon or
sOmethin' drawn by two white horses,
aud in it-Oh ViOhly, what do you
think?-my own really and truly ia
ther and mother hOldin' out their
arms to me-O dearIn
The tears streamed down those lit
L, l,,1I,,r- Il, D,I
down on stone, sObbing bitterly; for
she had driven the cows into the lot
aud put up the bars while she told her !
story.
Viola was not a bad child, and she |
IUds child; a certain dull sympathy |
filled her heart for the poor little |
thing who sat there trying not to sob,
and mOpping her face with the corner
of her ragged calico apron. .5
sSay, don't We cry no more, Polly.
PH give Ye a real soft apple to stop;
don't no more, nOw.n
81 can't help it, ViOhly; Pm so tired;
and sometimes I'm so scared up gar
Rets nights; and the boys do poster |
me so the whole time. i wish, o / do |
wish / had a resi- live father and |
mother! Seems as if | couldn't stand !
it no longer. Miss Slater, sometimes |
she talks 10 me about havin' Father |
up in the sky; but l expect he has for
got about me, He has such sights of
things to see to-"
Poor, tiny soul! He had not forgot
ten you!
Day after day went by, and Polly |
grew yet more pale and pinched. An
tumn had brought its still harder |
work than summer, and when winter
came, with drifts of pitiless snow over
and valleys, and the fierce |
winds blew more and more keenly |
upon POlly's half-clOthed body and |
poor pretence of a bed, the child SEEM
ed to shrink away daily; there was no
place for her by the fire at night, no /
warm and nOurishing food by day, |
and when she was worn out with |
hard work she crouched and shivered |
under her scanty bed-clOthes at night,
falling asleep from fatigue, without |
being warm.
One mOrning-it was the day before
Christmas, but Polly did not know it,
for no record of any holiday but
was ever kept in the
TarbOX family-she was found i'm her
garret so drOwsy and stiff with cold
that Mrs TarbOX took alarm lest some
lay her bound girl might De unbound,
md leave her for the house of that
Father whom the poor child thought
lad forgotten her.
SO they told her she might bring
her bed down and spread it i'm cor
ler of the kitchen, if it was done ONLY
after the family had gone To bed and
before they got up. That
hight the moon shOne full and clear
'ver the sheeted snow, silvered the
rest of the great mountains that bore
Up its drifted piles, and streamed into
he darkest depths of the valleys. By
Is light, Polly rcrept up garret and
oaded her trembling shoulders with
he husk mattress and cotton comfort !
bile. Everybody i'm the house was
warm in bed, and just az she flung
Ter burden down OH the kitchen floor
here came loud rap at the door,
Polly was frightened, and Mrs. Tar 1
'ox called from her bedroom :Dl5 gsi III
open that are door, Poll, pretty
lulck; don't stand gawpin' round as
# you was city fOlks!'
The startled little creature did as
'he was bid: and there on the door |
'teps stood man, while beyond him.
N a sleigh heaped with furs, the moon
now shining like day, showed to Pol q
y lady muffed TO her throat, and
ust holding aside a silvery veil d
% look out; and the lady saw slen-
Ter, pallid child, with large soft ewes
md head of tangled curls shivering
Dn the doorstep before the strange
This took but one in
itant's glance, and the stranger asked
f Mrs. TarbOX lived there.
''Yes, sir" said Polly.
The man seemed chOked with his
leXt question, it came so painfully
What IS your name, child?"
'Polly Sylvester, sirIp
my own habyI'' was the low, deep
nswer; and Polly rested right in her
ather's arms, sObbing so herself she
Ould not hear the answering sobs of
lis heart, though her poor tired head
ay upon it.
"Polly, shut that doorr" screamed
Mrs. Tarbox; but there was no an. I
wer. Out she hoped from her bed, '
Gily intending to give Polly trounc- q
ngi and came upon the sight we have