The Dallas weekly herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1873-1885, 1873-09-13


shower of rain and drenchcd throug
10 the skin. 4 violent cold lOllOwc,
which confined her for several days
her bed. Her cough grew rapid
worse, and after six weeks she deter
mined 10 act ON the landlady's advic
/ and return to the home that had she
tered her in the first lorely year of ol
phanagc
She had barely enough money 1
take her to the nearest railroad station
after selling or her scanty furnitur
and the ring that Mrs. Good insiste,
on buying from her, though Mildre,
thought that she had no claim to It.
] 1t was cold clustering evening
in the latter part Of March when sh
was put otfthe train at the little station
and she had yet two good miles t.
! walk and carry her child, for the littl'
one was too frail and delicate to stano
alone, and though il was nearly thir
teen months old it could not walk %
talk. She wrapped her thin shaw
about its little form, and pressed i
close to her own shiverng bosom, t,
protect it from the cold March winds
Night was fast approaching rs she
toiled wearily on, and it was long afte
dark when the lights of the farm
house greeted her eager eyes. Sh,
thought ut first she had mistaken he
way, and arrived at the wrong house
1t certainly was much larger thar
when she left it to so many years ago
and was bright with lights, looking tn,
very embodiment of cheerful happi
ness.
She struggled up the front steps ant
| attempted to raise the old fashioned
knocker, but fell heavily against In,
door, and she remembered nothing
more until she awoke in pleasant
chamber, lying in a downy bed o
nowy whiteness, and strangely
familiar form bending tenderly ovel
her.
"Jennie!" she said, softly, stretching
her thin, wasted arms toward her
'Thank God! She knows me-" said
Jennie, and sinking on her knees by
the bedside, she gave way to Il passion
of tears. "Oh, Mildred! why did you
not come to us sooner" she .,skGd at
last.
~ don't KNOW" replied the sick wo.
man family. "Whcre is my baby, Jcn.
nic?"
"Mother has her." she answered, ris.
ing; "and now ] will bring them boti
in to see you; and" she hesitated an,
turned her face toward Mildred, then
added, may | bring my husband, too
dear Mildred" Your old friend Tarolt
will he glad to meet you again"
"les,' she said; "bring them all
they will be kind tome, know, though
have not deserved it,"
Jennie left the room, but soon re
turned bringing Mildred's baby in hel
arms, and followed by Harold and hi,
mother and father.
Time had dealt gently with them all
leaving scarce II trace of his finger,
upon their faces, but poor Mildred lay
before them, pallid, shattered wreck
of the girl who had left them in bloom.
ing health and beauty less than ten
years before. The excitement of meet.
ing them all brought on Il violent fiji OF
coughing, after which she lay back
painting and exhausted on the pillow
1t was some lime before they would
allow her to talk, and then Jennie al.
most crushed the baby in her arms,
when she learned her name, and tears
stood in her eyes, when she thought OF
this proof of her old friends love and
remembrance of her.
Little Jennie grew rapidly in healtl,
and beauty in her new home but her
mother gently and gradually faded
away, and when her little one had
learned to toddle across the floor and
lisp ''mamma," she was fast approach'
ing that better, brighter world, where
pain and suffering are not. One balmy
evening in May she folded her tired
hands and went to sleep, TO awaken nc
more until the great resurrection. They
buried her beside her mother, and the
child found home with Harold and
Jennie. ...
And in after years Farmer EthridgC
and his wife knew no tenderer love fol
their own grandchildren than for the
gol en-haired girl they brought with
them annually to spend the summer
months with Grandma and Grandpa
Ethridge.