The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1876-04-21
Mark and Totty's Wonderful Escape.


--Nep York Tribune, Jr
Mark and Totty's Wonderful Escape.
1t was Saturday afternoon | The mid
summer sunlight lay warm and bright
on all the New England hills, and crept
in waves of glimmering gold over the
white, sanded floor of Deborah Hunters
tidy kitchen.
Debbie herself sat just beyond the
doorway, with huge basket of newly
ironed clothes beside her, from which
she was asserting variety of little gar
ments, pausing now and then to darn a
hole or sew on a button, and singing
softly to herself the while; for she was a
happy wife and mother, and her smile
was bright and her heart cheerful, de-
spite the endless duties that kept her
willing hands ever busy.
Out in the garden, in the shadow of
elm trees, where the Haunting tulips and
sunhowers bloomed, and the bees made
homely music, Mark and little Totty
were playing and chattering like pair
of parrots.
And presently they came toddling in,
Mark leading his chubby little sister by
the hand.
Mother" he said, "may we go
down to the wood and gather some straw
berries Father likes them with cream,
you know Please let us, mother I'll
put Totty's shoes on, so the briers can't
scratch her feet, and I'll take good care
of her. Mother, may we go2"
Debbie smiled and nodded, and Mark
ran off for Totty's shoes, and after con-
siderable grunting and tugging succeed
Il - hnr oh INV
Then he clambered up on the dresser and
got little tin pail, and off they started
hand-in-h hand.
"Now, Mark, take good care of your
sister," called his mother, "and don't go
near the pond. And come back soon,
for think we shall have rain before
night"
And the midsummer afternoon waned
slowly. The sunshine danced and glim.
mered amid the green elm branches, the
bees hummed about their hives, and hens
cackled lazily in the barn-yard and the
breeze, growing stronger, tossed the pur-
pie lilac boughs till the air was heavy
with their sweet perfume. Debbie work
ed on, singing softly to herself, and the
sunlight crept stealthily across the sand
ed floor, and disappeared at last beyond
the doors. Her work was done all the
little garments ready for the coming
Sabbath. She rose and put her basket
aside.
"What can make them stay sol" she
thought, looking out again, and finding
the sky well-nigh overcast, and the great,
black thunder-cloud rolling rapidly up
before the rising wind.
The poor mother, now thoroughly
frightened, caught up a shawl and throw
ing it over her head, closed her door and
ran down toward the wood, calling her
children as she ran. But there came no
answer, no sound but the roar of the
gathering storm and the angry booming
of the thunder.
She searched and called in vain ; they
were nowhere to be seen, and, half fran
tic with anxiety, she ran back and met
her husband, just returned from his la
Dor, at the door.
"Oh, Nathan" she cried, "the chill
dren are gone-lost in the wood. What
shall we do2"
He turned without word to the huge
Newfoundland dog that stood behind
him.
"Gyp," said he, "the children are
gone come, we must find them
And Gyp trotted soberly after him,
followed by the poor, distracted mother
As they reached the wood the storm
broke upon them in ali its fury. The
clouds rolled up in great masses, blot
ting out the waning daylight, and the
lightning blazed and famed in every di-
rection, while the thunder ratified from
hill to hill, and the winds tore and
shrieked amid the trees like pack of
demons. And presently the rain began
to pour down in great, drenching sheets.
Poor Deborah wrung her hands in
agony.
"Oh, my children |" she cried, "my
poor little lofty, what will become OF
herr"
The father hurried on, followed by
Gyp, and on till they were in the very
heart of the wood. But no trace of the
children appeared.
"Gyp," said the father, turning tc
his dog again, "Can't you find the chill
dren2 Come, good dog, try I"
And Gyp, with his nose to the ground
went off like an arrow. The parents fol
lowed, needless of the pelting storm
On and on, into the heart of the wood
and round 10 the shore of the pond
There the poor fellow stopped, with {
peculiar, mournful cry.
The father and mother fastened up
There, in the yielding earth, were littl,
footprints, the unmistakable impress O
Totty's chubby shoes, and broker
flowers and presently, away out upol
the yellow, angry waters of the pond
they espied Marks little cap.
AS she recognized it, the poor mothe
uttered piteous cry.
"Oh, my precious babiesl They ar
gone-they are drownedr"
"Yes," replied the father, hoarsely
"They are gone I must get help an,
drag the pondi Ny poor wife, you ha,
better come home ]"
But Deborah shook her head an
crouched down upon the shore of tn
elbow pond. AMI there she sat, wit