Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1870-07-20
AWEsTERN DROYER,s STORY.

MY udl1e Is A0luOuY hQnI. 4 am
a drover, and live miles and miles
away upon the western prairie. There
wasn't home within sight when we
moved there, my wife and I, and now
we havn't many neighbOrs, though
those we have are good ones.
One day about ten years ago, 1 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 L came back, and
above all, a doll for our youngest,
Dolly; she had never had shop 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 me to
"buy a big One." Nobody but q
parent can understand how my mind
was on that toy, and how, when the
cattle were sold, the first thing, hur-
ried off to buy was DOlly's doll 1
found a large one, with eyes that
would open and shutwhen you pulled
a wire, and had it wrapped up in
paper and tucked under my arm,
while l had the parcels of calico and
delaln and tea and sugar put up. 1t
might have been more prudent to
stay until morning, but felt anxious
to get back, and eager to hear DOlly's
prattle about her doll.
/ mounted on a steady-going old
horse of mine, and pretty well loaded.
! Night set in before was a mile from
| town, and settled down dark as pitch
while was in the middle of the Wild
est bit of road l know of. 1 could
have feltmy way though, 1 remember
/ ed it so well, and it was almost that
| when the storm had been brewing,
| broke and pelted the rain in torrents,
five miles, or may be six, from home
/ too.
| L rode on as fast as I could, but all
of sudden heard little cry like a
ehild's vOicel 1 stopped short and
listened. heard it again. called
and it answered me. L couldn't see
a thing! All was dark as pitch. I
got down and felt about in the grass
called again, and again twas answer
ed. Then 1 began to wonder. Pm
not timid, but / was known to be a
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 uperstitious-not very
but how could real child be out on
the prairie in such a night, at such an
hour? 1t might be more than human.
The bit of coward that hides itself
in mostmen showed itself to me then,
and was half inclined to run away:
but once more / heard that cry and
said /, 'If any mans child is here
abouts, Anthony Hunt is not the man
to let it die.n
Isearch again. At last I bethought
me of a hollow under the hill and
CROPPED that way. Sure enough, 1
found a little drippling thing that
mOaned and sObbed as took it in my
arms. 1 called my horse, and the
beast came to me, andI mounted, and
tucked the little soaked thing under
my coat as well as 1 could promising
to take it home to nanny. 1t SEEM
ed tired to death, and pretty soon cried
itself to sleep against my bosom.
1t had slept there over a hour when
saw my own windows. There were
lights in them, and I supposed my
wife had lit them for my sake, but
when 1 got into the door yard saw
something was the matter, and stood
still with dead fear of heart five
minutes before L could lift the latch.
At last I did it. and saw the room full
ofneighbors, and my wife amid them
weeping.
When she saw me she hid her face.
"Oh don't tell him." she said ''it
will kill him."
"What is it neighbors?" I cried.
And one said, Nothing now, 1
hOpe-whats that in your arms?"
"a poor lost child" said I, 81
found it on the road. Take it, will
you, I've turned faint" and lifted
the sleeping thing and saw the face of
my own child, my little Dolly.
1t was my darling, and no other,
that L had picked upupon the drench-
ed road.
My little child had wandered out to
meet daddy" and doll. while her
mother was at work, and whom they
were lamenting one dead. / thanked
heaven on my knees before them all,
Its not much of a story, neighbors,
but think of it often in the nights,
and wonder how could bear to live
now if 1 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 moth
er in the meadow, a girl worth saving
Il think but then, Pm her father and |
partial may be)-the prettiest and |
sweetest thing this side of the Missis- |
StUOrd and IrOlUel.