Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1874-01-01

! SoNS, anu pCoplt uuIi lux uiouG WIN All
manner of mysterious bundles; and the
| jollity and the merriment made him more
wretched AID lonesome than ever. Why
/ should he, Of all the world, have nothing
! for which to be glad On Christmas Eve ?
! The very crossing sweeperS danced with
! their muddy broOms and ratified the cop.
per. in their pockets; but he had not a
! soul to wish him well or care if it went i'll
with him, 1t seemed all the worse be
cause there had been some one, not so
very long ago
The wife who loved him, in spite OF his
| deformity, had only been dead year :;
and, though he felt that somewhere and
| somehow she was with the blessed, he had
| never learned to think of her as a Christ
mas angel, singing the old song of peace
| and good will To men.
SO Tom was lonesome, and he sat by
his fire, waiting until the sound of hur-
rying steps and noisy voices should cease,
as it did after a while. The lights went
out, too, from all tho houses in the neigh
borhoOd: and Toms lantern burned on,
until ii was time to set the switch for the
night express. Then he went out gloom
lily, swinging his lantern, and never once
looking up. He could hear the faint
whistle of the train, three minutes late
thatnight. He wondered at it as he set
the switch.
Down the long street. right and left, all
was still and dark, only at the bridge,
where the night patro. made restless
black shadow on the little strip of light.
Overhead the stars were glittering; and
away beyond them, Tom Thought was
God, forgetting all his poor Up and
down for little way the red CLEAN OF
the lantern showed the cindery road and
the dull black rails; showed the little
frozen puddles between the ties; and
something else-TOm was not quite sure
what-a small dark bundle lying upon
the track He had it in his hands in
moment. None too soon, for the express
came laundering down, and the engineer
had glimpse of something darling away
from the very brink of destruction. But
Tom had the bundle, and, with his breath
coming quick and hard, he turned into
the house, and laid it down in the light
of the fire.
ITS a baby and it's deadn he said,
opening the dirty old shawl and looking
curiouslya at the white, pinched face and
thin, blue lips. Never in all his life had
Tom touched a baby before; and his dull
heart stirred little as he lifted the small,
pallid hands, and let them fall again,
strokcd the cold cheek with his coarse
finger, and then, folding the shawl about
it, laid it on the foot of his bed. Just as
he had laid it down the Christmas chimes
began to ring from st. Madeline's steeple,
and poor Tom stopped his ears with his
pillow, and said in his angry heart: 1t
is all a lie. There is neither peace nor
goodwill"
Tom slept late the next morning. He
liked his Sunday morning nap, when there
was no train to waken for, and nothing
else, indeed--no Christmas greeting from
wife or child. He thought of it sorrow
fully, lying half awake, with the red sun
shine streaming across his face. Then
he started up with sudden remembrance
of the little bundle in the dirty old shawl.
II seemed warm, and not cold, lying there
at his feet; and he almost thought it
stirred a little, as the sunbeams, full of
pickering, dusty notes, laid long, bright
fingers upon it. He onened the shawl,
half dreadng to see the wan face by day
light; and oh, wonder! the great sorrow
full eyes were wide open, and the baby
looked in his face with the mute, appeal
ing patience of one used to nothing but
utter neglect and making no claim upon
any loving care.
How soon the fire blazed again upon
the hearth and how tenderly Toms Clum-
sy fingers held the cup, with its draught
of strong black coffee, to the, baby's
mouth. He had vague impression that
milk was the proper food for babies, But
milk he had none; and the little one
showed its appreciation of the situation
by eagerly swallowing the coffee and
going off into a sleep a shade less like
death. 1t slept on and on, while Tom ate
his breakfast and took counsel of his
heart "I'll bring Mistress Mcbride to
look at il" said Tom, at last, And so he
did,
The motherly old body laid it tenderly
on her knee, chated the thin, pallid hands,
and stretched out the little Cramped feet
to the blaze while Tom looked ON, won
dcring and anxious.
$50 SO, poor thing, poor lambn' said the
nurse. She's beginning to come round
bit Deed, then, Mister Larkin, the
croolty Of this world is past belicyin'.
The baby's been drugged till its brains is
all of a water; an to think Of layin' the
poor innocent ON the track!'
Might have been dropped accidental
suggested Tom.
Might be-" said the nurse, "some poor
! drunken creeturn And she dipped her
finger in the coffee and moistencd the
| baby's mouth
Here's teeth, Mister Larkin," said she,
triumphantly- "stummich teeth and
grinders; the baby's goin' on two year, if
she's day | wouldn't wonder now, if
she pulled through, after all"
Toms face lighted up, as if this were
good news; and then fell again, as he add
ed; Her mother'll be after her, most
like"
uLike enonch.n said The nurse, osome