Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1873-05-30
The Child-Letter.

pired, though the place and date are
omitted:
Wat you doin', auntie?"
"Writing letters" responded auntie,
who with bunch of envelopes and
quire of paper before her, was very deep
in the business indeed. Then fat, dim
pie finger stole cautiously up, and
touched finished pile.
"One, two, free. four, amen ~ counted
Tiny, who always cherished the belief
that "amen" stood for full stop, and
made use Of it accordingly.
swat for you write letters, auntie?"
"Oh, to send to my friends" replied
auntie, bending over her work, and
speaking in voice that seemed to issue
from her eyebrows.
"Where is your friends?" persevered
the child.
Everywhere" said auntie, who hap
pened to be writing that word at the mo-
ment.
"Does letters 60 everywhere ?"
Yes," responded auntie, absently.
"Would letter go to mammal"
Yes" said auntie again, who by this
time was in the very heart of brilliant
description and did not hear.
"How does this letter go? urged she
again, this time touching aunties elbow
by way CT experiment. This expert
ment, so far as auntie was concerned, re-
suited in bold, upward stroke, at an
acute angle with the last hair line"
and she looked up, really out of patience
at last,
go, Tiny" said she, I" what little
mis- " but she stopped suddenly.
There was such a look of appeal in the
soft, blue eyes fixed anxiously upon her,
that she could not find it in her heart to
visit any Indignation on that small gold
en- head, so she only kissed the rosy
mouth, and said, Another day she will
talk to you just as much as ever you
wish. Herew added she, observing
the look of disappointment that stole
over the sunny face; "See | will make
letter of you, and send you to papa"
So she took postage stamp out of
the drawer, and, parting the fossy curls,
pasted it right in the center of Tiny's
smooth, white forehead.
81 don't know how letters goes ?" said
the baby girl, chucking delightedly.
Does they fly 2"
Letters don't goes" said auntie,
laughing; they go through the post
Office. Now run along and put yourself
in postoffice somewhere, and papa will
be sure to find you"
"Oh, yes l know, | saw'd 1.-THE
pos -ofice-me and mamma, one day.
It's down the corner and round the alb
nue."
The clerk al the postoffice heard a
piping voice, and, looking down, saw a
strange sight-a tiny creature, no more
than three years old, it seemed, with
jockey hat awry, its sweeping plume
tangled with golden eurls, postage
stamp shining conspicuous in the center
of polished forehead, and wistful blue
eyes turned up to him, glistening with a
great hope.
81 want to 60 to papa" said the voice.
The clerk smiled. Where is your
papap he asked.
Gone to Heaven, said Tiny, SOL
emnly.
The smile died out. They had sent
many odd parcels to strange directions
through that Office, but never one to that
address, thought be.
am letter, and want to go to
papa pleaded that child, her yearning
eyes still fastened on his face.
"What is your name |? asked the
clerk.
But at that moment a clustering busi-
ness man. bound on the redress of some
grievance, pressed forward and brushed
her aside she was drawn into the cur
rent of people passing in at one door
and out at another, and before she could
say another word, found herself in the
street again.
There she stood irresolute. Her heart
ached with disappointment, the passers-
by jOstled and bewildered her; she be
gan to be afraid, and her eyes filled with
tears. Suddenly there was great out
cry. The frightened crowd fled into
doorways. A pair of runaway horse;
came dashing down the street. The peo
| pie on the crossings rushed into the side
walk. No one noticed an unprotected
little one standing there with blanched
face and eyes wild with terror , no ont
heard feeble, wailing cry. A great
burly boy with basket on his arm
pressed forward with blind speed, found
something in his pathway and bore il
down-then it was all over. The mad
horses were down the street and fal
away. The relieved pedestrians came
out of their places of refuge. Only one
did not move on"
A little lifeless figure, with wide open
blue eyes, long, soft golden curls sweep
ing the curb-stone, and dimpled hands
thrown out, lay where it had fallen
The jockey hat had rolled from hel
head, its white feather was draggled in
the dust, but the postage stamp still
clung to the shining forehead. The
crowd looked ON and noted it with Gu
rious eyes. 1t had done its work well
All me the little "letter" had gone
safely to papa.-Er.
Young Man: If you would achieve
success in life nlav for Tnuch and stak ke