American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1874-04-11


Child. oh. my child, nestle close to my breast,
= Here in the mother arms always 10 rest;
Rest when thou'rt weary, and love when thou'I
For the love Of mother IL always untold.
Res, baby, resti
--Anaerjcds Ho0sss
WHEN HARRY WAS LOST.
BIT JULIA A. ABBOTT.
HAIRY was my youngest, and, maybe
my dearest Mothers are apt TO be q lit
/ had some excuse for being fond of him
Seth and Sam were grown-up men, and o
the five that came between them an(
Harry only the row Of little headstones il
tbs graveyard yonder is left to tell III,
story. So IL was We all petted and, maybe
spoiled the child; nobody could help it
he was 90 sweet and cunning.
It's nigh upon thirty years ago, that day
when Josiah-shst was my husband-anC
the boys came mp from the haydeld anG
my baby was net with them. He had fol
he did not come back / never once
thought but that they'd let him stay tC
play about in the drying grass till dinner
time.
"Where's Harry, par" I said, not wor
ried, but thinking maybe he had stopped
to pick berries by the way, or to hide fol
Carlo to find HIM.
"Ain't he homer" was all pa said, as he
scrubbed his face with the towel.
No." said, and then choked little
and couldn't say no more.
"What makes you so white, mar" and
don't be scared; HsrIy's round some
where all right, I'll warrant" said Seth
and Sam, both talking together. And Jo-
siah he said q word or two Of comfort,
too, but I wasn't contented till I'd took q
look around the house and hunted it all
over and called Harryi Harry" all the
while they three ate their dinner. But
didn't find him, though l went clear to
the bayfield, and back, and looked in the
barn and the shed-chamber, and every
where thought he could be hid away.
BY the time I got back to the house again
Josiah was out on the back stoop to meet
me.
"Didn't you find him, mother 81 he
said, as quick as i came near, and see
he looked little worried, too.
mo-" l said. "When did he leave the
HE hain't been there today" he
answered, sort of surprised-like. when
did he 60 awsys'
EARLY this morningI1eight O'Clock or
so;" and then felt all through me that
the boy was lost.
You see we hadn't a neighbor for ever
so far arOund-the nearest was six miles
away, cross lots at that, and there wasn't
bat that one till you come to the Cross
Roads-ten miles, If it was q foot. 30 /
knew he couldn't be gone to any house,
the mite-he was only five years old, and
small of his age, too.
Wed been ON the farm six years that
spring, so we'd had q chance to add con-
- l. IL al IL
all that it wasn't much of walk to the
thick woods that quarter or half mile
back of the house stretched away miles
toward the distant mountains.
Well, felt sure the boy was lost-and
just the thought of my baby wandering
alone through those thick, dark woods,
living on berries, in danger from wild
beasts-for bears and wildcats were still
middlin' plenty round about-crying for
me when the night Came on and dying at
last, starved and worn out with hunger
and weariness-why, it seemed as if
should go crazy-such horrible sights
came up before me.
Pa and the boys wouldn't give in to it
at first, but finally, when they'd hunted
everywhere around the farm where even
q Cat could hide, they came back to me
with white faces but stopped only long
enough to say Sam was going to neighbor
Deane's to get their men-folks to help in
the search, while Seth and pa looked
along the edge of the woods back of the
house. Meanwhile 1 was to wait, with
what patience might, till my baby was
found or they had given up the search.
could not help, they said, and should only
hinder them.
Hours went by-how, know nOt-and
at last neighbOr Desne and his four Stall.
wart boys came over with Sam. Then the
search began in earnest. Of course he
must be in the woods-no one of them all
seemed to have a doubt of that-and guns
were hastily loaded, torches prepared Qor
the night was coming on), and the men
divided into squads of two, each to go in
q different direction. They would signal
each other by firing guns.
They had gone, every one, and walked
up and down the floors of an empty house
shall not try to tell you how those aw-
full hours passed-how in every shadowy
corner seemed to see my poor baby's
wide-open, frightened eyes, or fancied in
every sound Of the night my baby's cries
for mamma"
By-and by the moon came up; it was
nearly full and there wasn't cloud in all |
the sky, 30 that Outof doors it was almost |
as light as day. The lonely, darkened |
house seemed so full of haunting shad- |
ows that l could stay in it no longer, and |
went out into the bright, cold light out |
side. There was just the least breath of |
air stirring; could see the willows at |
The foot of the ten-acre lot move their |
lazily as the light breeze swept |
through them.
Down at the foot Of the ten-acre lot.
But what besides the Willows was there |
And a thought came that almost took my
breath away-a terrible, sickening dread. |
4 narrow, sluggish brook, more like a |
muddy ditch than anything else, ran clear
lcross that lot first at the foot, and the
willows grew thick on either side-so
hick that child could hardly force his
way through to the water-and that was
Why, no doubt, Josiah and the boys had
the place.
But my Harry was . daring little fellow
nd pretty persevering one as well. How
ould be sure that be had not Struggled |
through the low-hanging willow bushes
md found his way to the waterP And If
le had-good God, he was drowned, he
vas dead-my poorlittle baby! Itseemed
% If almost flew across the garden and