Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-04-30

shoes and stockings and stepped down in
the water. It crept like living thing
around my ankles and above them half
way to my knees. It was thick with mud.
and | could not see an inch below the
surface. So / stopped down and scooped
my arms along on either side of me,
reaching to the bottom and out to each
slippery bank.
1t was awful work. Now and then nv
hand touched frogs cold, clammy back,
and | only knew it was not my darling's
dead hand or face when it Jumped from
beneath my fingers. Reeds and long
grasses brushed against my ankles, and
my heart stood still while | bent to lift nv
baby's f1axen curls Once a sharp stone
cut my foot and fancied it must be the
metal buckles Of Harry's little shoe.
Once, too, water snake coiled about nv
arm, and for moment dreamed of nv
baby's clinging fingers. Then shook off
the hideous thing and went on YEARLY.
yet with resOlute patience.
After what seemed to me long hours
the bottom Of the stream grew thick with
pebbles, the water grew clearer ana shall
lower, and the willows were gone from
the banks. I could walk upright now,
and l could see through the clear water
all that lay beneath. So I went on faster
but more hopeful. I had entered the edge
of the woods by this time, and the moon
shine penetrated but dimly.
Still | kept on. | hoped for nothing.
Ny heart was sick with utter despair, and
yet when | came out into little open
place where the water, sweeping round
the foot of an immense pine tree, made
the tiniest Of little bays, and saw my
boy lying fast asleep on the very brink Of
the water, felt no surprise.
Yes, it was my bOy-my baby-wet,
hungry and cold, but safe-safe in his
mothers longing arms. | did not faint
| shed no tears. / only gathered my
toward home. l had come far out of
sight of the house, but knew the direc-
ton in which it lay and felt no fear of
not reaching it safely. And | did get
home at last, with clothes torn by the
underbrush and bare feet cut and bleed
ing from stones and rocks over which |
had walked Unheeding. I went across
the threshold of my own door at last, and
laid my precious burden down on the
settee before the still smoldering fire.
Then | took down the great dinner horn
and, going into the yard, blew it long and
often, till at length the answering shots
told me | was heard and understood.
Then raked down the fire and built it
up anew, and warmed and dried and fed
my baby, the while his eager prattle told
me how he had wandered away till the
path was lost and papa's house could not
be seen, nor any place that looked famil-
lar to the baby eyes; and how he was
hungry and by-and-by SO tired, and then
it grew dark and he said his little prayer
and lay down to sleep-Sure, in his child
ish faith, that papa or mamma would
come for him before morning; "because
l knew you'd be afraid to have me out
doors all night, mamma" he said, in his
childish fashion.
And then I heard the hurried steps of
the coming men. [ went to the door to
meet them with Harry in my arms. Jo-
siah and the boys came first, and [ gave
nay baby into his fathers arms and fell
down at his feet-for the first time in my
life l had tainted dead away.
Afterward I had brain fever, and when
at last went about the house again the
snow was lying deep upon the ground
and my hair, so dark before, rivaled the
snow in hue.-RUrdL NeD Yorker.