The weekly Ottumwa courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1857-1872, 1871-05-04
THE LOST CHILD.

THE LOST CHILD.
"She is the most magnificent cres
ture ] ever saw in my lifep
The speaker was q handsome, dash
ing young man, attired in the vcry
extreme Of fashion, who was walking
along tho sunny side Of one Of oul
public thoroughfares, arm in arm
with . companion of about his owl
age.
"Do you mean the brunette widow
or her dovo-eyed sister 2" coolly ques
toned the latter.
"The widow, Of course-whon
else could / refer to? And you ar,
smitten. too, Courtney, most desper
ately-there's no use denying it
Haven't / eyes and ears of my own
I mover saw you 80 bewitched with
any pretty piece Of flesh and blood
- you were with Mrs Dclaford
considering that we were both intro
duosd to her last night for the frs,
timel don't blame you, old fellow
for Pm 10 precisely in the same box
myself! Which Of rs do you sup
pose will win the bright star to weal
upon our breasts r"
81 rather suspect" he said lightly
"that the decision will have to be
left with the fair lady herself, aud
ballo, my little mao, what's tho mat.
teri"
He paused abruptly. A boy Of
three summers was sitting wailing on
the curb-stone, his face all covered
with mud, and candy, and tears, his
hair hopelessly matted in yellow
ringlets, and two small fists screwed
tightly into bis eyes. He did not
answer the strangers appeal, but
burst into fresh passion Of sobs and
cries which had nearly .percipitated
him into the gutter.
"Come along, Courtney-are you
mad energetioallv whispered Nor.
rison, giving his friends arm a
twitch. "Wbat's the use of stopping
to interrogate every young one you
meet? You'll havo q street crowd
around you in about three minutesl'
But Courtney gave no heed to his
companions remonstrances - he
stopped down and passed his hand
kindly over the tangled curls, still
questioning the child.
"Me lost my mamma" stammered
the little creature at length, looking
up into Covrtney's face, with round
wondering eyes, full Of wo-be-gone
tears.
THERE could have told you so,' ;
said Morrison, petulcntly. "Do hand
the dirty little brat over to tho near.
est policeman l never saw such q
fellowl One would think you were
particularly anxious to restore her
progeny to some applewoman, OF
rag and bottle venderl / won't wait
another minute for you-hanged if
will"
"Go along, then !" said Coui they,
impulsively. II certainly shall not
leave . poor little lost child here to
cry his heart out, if he belonged tu
forty applewomenl Can't YOU tell
me what your name is, my little fel-
low 2"
"Mammas babyl" returned the
child, promptly.
"What else?
"Pet."
"But you have got some other |"
"No, me has mott" responded the
boy, reslutely.
"Well, what is your papa's namo?"
"Me got no papal"
"Mamma's then r.
"Mamma's name is mamma 70
. at is Mrs. Somebody |" suggested
Courtney. "Mrs. Brownl or Mrs.
Jones ?"
"No o-o-it isn't; it is mamma 7"
roared the child, again breaking into
toars and lamentations.
"a hopeful easel" remarked Nor
rison, Struggling his shoulders. Il
wish you joy of all the information
you may extract from that young
brat. Wouldn't you like to adopt
him as your own? TN off,"
"Just as you please" returned
Courtney, who had lifted the little
fellow into his arms. II shall carry
this wsif of humanity TO the police
station, myself, and not leave him
until be is safe with its mother,
whcresoever she may be. Will you
come with me Master Pet, il that is
your name 2"
"Will you take me to my mammal
"I'll tvyi"
"Me go with you-me like yon!"
decided the boy, enclosing Court
Rey's neck in both arms, with hug
that really endangered his pearl silk
cravat. Courtney laughed and nod
ded debonairly to his appalled, COM
panion as he turned IN the direction
Of tho police station, where the cleo.
trio tongues Of the telegraph wires
would proclaim all over the city, in
an incredibly short space Of timc,
that . small estray was waiting to
be claimed
Meanwhile, Hubert Morrison pro-
ceeded leisurely on his way, grace
fully manipulating his eye glass, aud
playing with one perfumed kid glove.
lie was exquisitely dressed, and in a
state Of general satisfaction with
himself, for was he not going to call
upon the beautiful young widow?
"Why, Mr.. Morrison 7"
The silvery accent fell upon his
ear almost like the continuation of
his complacont dreams, for they were
spoken by Miss Hope, tho sistor Of
Mrs. Delaford, as che leaned from the
window of passing carriage.
"Miss Hope! this is most rnex-
pected pleasure!" he calculated, rails
ing his hat. II Was just en- route to
call on you, ladies I"
Then, suppose you enter tho car
riage and accompany me-" laughing
ly proposed Miss Hope, II am home
ward bound. Helena went out shop
ping this morning. but l dare say
she is returned by this time"
"I shall be too happy" responded
Morrison, obeying with alacrity.
"Why didn't you bring your hand
somo trieud Mr.. Courtney, with
your" smilingly questioned Mary
Hope.
"My dear Miss Hope, positively
must toll you the most ridiculous
aforxy lannhad Mnrriann MWharo