Omaha daily bee., 1874-07-02
BABY SYLVESTER.
(C0ntinued.)
IT sHnrIn REVERT To Me.

1T SHOULD REVERT To ME.
"At the same time" he had ad.
ded, otis only fair to say that
don't think Of dying just yet, old
| fellow, and l don't know of any
thing else that would part the cub
and me-"
Two months after this converse.
ton, as I was turning over the
mornings mail at my Office in San
Francisco, I noticed a letter bearing
SyIvester,s familiar hand. But il
was post-marked s.Stockton," and j
opened 1t with some anxiety at once.
It's contents were as follows:
o FRANK! Don't you remember
what we agreed upon about the
baby? Well, consider me as dead
for the next six months, or gone
where cubs can't follow me,-East.
1 know you love the baby; but do
you think, dear boy,-nOw really,
do you think,-yOu could be afather
to it? Consider this well. You are
young, thoughtless, well-meaning
enough; but dare you take upon
yourself the functions Of guide, ge-
MUS, or guardian, to one so young
and g~uileless? Could you be the
Mentor to this Telemachus? Think
of the temptations of a metropolis.
Look at the question well, and let
me know speedily; for I've got him
as far as this place, and he's kicking
up an awful row in the h~Otel-yard,
and rafting his chain like a ma
MAC. Let me know by telegraph at
once.
P. S.-Of course he's grown a lit
tie, and doesn't take things away as
quietly as he did. He dropped
rather heavily on two of Watson's
"purpsp last week, and snatched
old Watson himself bald-headed,
) for interfering. You remember
Watson: for an intelligent man, he
knows very little of California fauna.
How are you fixed for bears on
Montgomery street, mean In re-
gard to corrals and things? 5.
p. p. SHE'S got some new
tricks. The boys have been teach
ing him to put up his hands with
them. He sings an ugly left. S.
am afraid that my desire to pos
sess myself of b by overcame al
considerations, and l telegraphed
an affirmative at once to Sylvester.
When / reached my lodgings late
that afternoon, my iandlady was
awaiting me with a telegram. 1t
was two lines from Sylvester:
All right. Baby goes down on
night-bOat. Be a father to him. 3.
It was due, then, at | O'Clock that
uight. For q moment / was stag
gered at my own precipitation. 1
had as yet made no preparations
had said nothing to my landlady
about her new guest. l expected
to arrange everything in time; and
now, through Sylvester's indecent
haste, that time had been shortened
twelve hours.
Something, however must be done
at once. turned to Mrs. Brown.
I had great reliance in her maternal
instincts; 1 had that still greater re-
lance, common to our sex, i'm the
general Observation-Disclosures Of pretty
women. But l confess l was
alarmed. Yet with a feeble smile,
I tried to introduce the subject
with classical ease and lightness. /
even said: ufShakspeare's Athen-
ian clown, Mrs. Brown, believed
that a lion among ladies was a
dreadful thing, what must"
But here / broke down, for Mrs.
Brown, with the awful intuition of
her sex, 1 saw at once was more
occupied with my manner than my
speech. So / tried a business brus-
querie, and, placing the telegram in
her hand, said hurriedly, eve
must do something about this at
once. It's perfectly absurd, but he
will be here at l tonight. Beg
thousand pardOns, but business pre-
vented my speaking before"
and paused, out of breath and cour-
age.
Mrs. Brown read the telegram
gravely, lifted her pretty eyebrows,
turned the paper over and looked on
the other side, and then in
A REMOTE AND CHILLING VOICE,
asked me if she understood me to
say that the mother was coming
also.
go, dear, no." I exclaimed with
considerable relief; "the mother
is dead, you know. Sylvester
That is my friend, who sent this
shot her when the baby was only
three days Old" But the express
sion of Mrs. Browns face at this
moment was so alarming that l saw
that nothing but the fullest ex-
PLANTATION would save me. Hastily,
and 1 fear not very ~cOherently, l
told her all.
She relaxed sweetly. She said /
had frightened her with my talk
about lions. Indeed, I think my
picture of poor Baby-albeit q trifle
colored-touched her motherly
heart. She was even o little vexed
at what she called Sylvester's "hard-
heartedness." Still, I was not
without some apprehension. 1t was
two months since l had seen him,
Sylvester's vague allusiOn to his
.tslinging an ugly left" panied me.
I looked at sympathetic little Mrs.
Brown, and the thoughtof Watson's
pups covered me with guilty con-
fusion.
Mrs. Brown had agreed to sit up
with me until he arrived. One
o'clock came, but no bay. Two
o'elock-three o'clock-passed. 1t
was almost 4 when there was a wild
clatter of horses hoofs outside, and
with a jerk a wagon stopped at the
door. In an instant l had opened
it and confronted u stranger. AL
most at the same moment, the hOr-
ses attempted to run away with the
wagon.
The strangers appearance was, to
say the least, disconcerting. His
clothes were badly torn and frayed;
! his linen sack hung from his shoul-
ders like a herald's apron; one Ofhis
hands was bandaged; his face
scratched, and there Was no hat on
his disheveled head. To aid to the
general effect, he had evidently
thoughtreiief from his woes in drink
and he swayed from side to side as
he chung to the door handle, and, in
= very thick voice. stated that he
had sssuthinn for me outside. When
he had finished, the horses made
another plunpe.