The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1873-08-14
TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF.

TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF.
''It's shame !" said Mrs. Fogg, as
she hurried away after the funeral Of
Mrs. Grant. escaping from the poor, des-
olate room where two children, almost
babes, were sleeping, unconscious that
they were motherless. " Its shame that
nobody II take them.
Yes-a bitter shame ~ replied a
neighbor, who was also getting off as fast
as she could, so as TO shift responsibility
on some other shoulders.
There's Mrs. Grove; she might take
them as well as not. But they'll go to
the poor house for all she cares"
swell, somebody'll have to answer
for it, said Mrs. Fogg. As for me,
I've got young ones enough of my own. "
We left Mrs. Cole in the room. She
has only one child, and her husband Is
wellto-do. | can believe she have the
heart to turn away from them"
''She's got the heart for anything. But
we'll see."
Mrs. Cole did turn away from the
sleeping babes, signing aloud, with a
forced sigh that others might hear, and
give her credit for sympathy and con-
Germ she did not feel.
At last all were gone-all but a man
named Wheaton, and poor woman not
able to take care of herself.
"What's to become of these children"
said Wheaton.
Don't know. Poor house, | s'pose, )"
answered the woman.
Poor house ~
{" Yes. Nobody wants EN-, and there s
no place else for EN-
Mamma mammal cried a plain
tive voice, and faxen-haired child, not
much oyer year old, rose up in the bed
and looked piteously about the room.
$ want mamma"
A great, choking sob came into the
man s throat. Then the other child awoke
and said:
Don't cry, Sissy. Mammals gone
away"
At this the little one began crying bit
terly.
+" | can't stand this nchow," said the
man, speaking in kind of desperate
way; and, going to the bed, he gathered
the two children in his arms, hushing
and comforting them with soothing
words
g." What on earth have you got there?"
exclaimed Mrs. Wheaton as her husband
came striding into the room where she
sat mendiDg one of his well-worn gar
ments.
Two babies !" he answered, in a
voice so Unnatural that Mrs. Wheaton
dropped her work on the floor and rose
up in amazement.
"What?"
" Mrs. Coles two babies. I've been
over to the funeral, and | tell you, Jane,
1T wasn't in me to see these little things
carted off to the almshouse. There
wasn't a woman to look after them-no,
not one. Every soul sneaked off but
Polly Jones, and she's of no account you
know. just look at their dear little
faces - And he held them up in his
arms. and let their tender, fearful, half
frightened, half-wondering eyes plead
in vain.
Surprised as she was, and with an in
slant protest in her heart Mrs Wheaton
could not, in the presence of these moth
erless ones, utter q werd of remonstrance.
She took the youngest one from the arms
of her husband and spoke to it tenderly.
The child sobbed two or three times and
then laid its head against her bosom.
There was an influx Of mother-love into
the heart of this woman, who had never
been mother, the instant her breast felt
the pressure of the baby's head, aud the
arm that drew it closer with an involun-
tary impulse was moved by this new love.
Not many words passed between the
husband and WHEAT least not then,
though thought was very busy with both
of them. Mrs. Wheaton's action toward
the children was kind even to tenderness.
and this manner won their confidence,
and drew from them such looks, and
ways, and little expressions of satisfac-
ton, as touched her heart and filed it
With loving interest.
After night-fall. when supper was over.
and the children asleep, Mr.. and Mrs |
Wheaton sat down together, each show
ing little reserve and embarrassment.
Mrs. Wheaton was the first to speak.
What are you thinking about,
John p she said, almost sharply. e
can't have these children
Wheaton did not lift his eyes. nor
answer, but there was certain logged /
and resolute air about him that his wife
noticed as unusual.
Somebody else must take them,"
she said
" The county viii do it, Wheaton re-
piled.
1.-The county p
Yes. There room for them at the
almhouse, and nowhere else that | know
oi, unless they stay here