The Toledo chronicle. [volume] (Toledo, Tama County, Iowa) 1873-1924, 1876-12-21


gage. pointed it to him triumphant
ly. Your key, if you please
"'My husband locked it and has
the key.-but you may break the
lock-.
1.-The owner of the trunk may OBJ
iect.'
I" 1t is miner
"' Look here, little girl, you are not
married. l shall put you ashore at the
first landing. Go home, and behave
yourself in FUTURE
Every drop of blood in my veins
boiled, and yet l must bear it, because
| had not five-dollar bill by me. l
| never before dreamed of the 'degra-
datiOn of poverty He turned away
and | sat down on my trunk. 1t was
my own. 1t would tell of my inno-
cence and truth, if he would but let it.
SO, too, would all the presents we had
so carefully selected for the dear ones
at home. could have put my arms
around it and kissed it. | only asked
to be allowed to sit upon it all night.
Wouldn't he Just let me do thdtF
"lt was the worst question | could
have asked. | presume you'd like to
be left here. Go straight to the ladies
cabin, and don't you leave it until l
put you off the boat.
81 rose proudly and walked to the
cabin without a glance at him. l
would not cry until | could get to my
staterOom. But when | came to the
door it flashed upon nae, hare no
stateroom. | had no spot my own, no
baggage, no friend, no character-even
the black cabin-maid was whispering
about memo huSband-Where was
he? Where could he be? He must
have fallen overheard, | never should
see him again! and | should be put off
in the night. in strange place, with
out cent of money to buy a lodging,
or even a sheet of paper and three
cent stamp, And Christmas morning,
when all would be watching for the
happy bridal party, where should we
be? where 1C0S he? | grew frantic.
| believe, now, | was on the verge of
insanity. l remember feeling sure he
had fallen overheard and was drowned,
and that, if left on wharf, | would
60 and spend Christmas with him. |
often shudder, even now, when |
think what | might have been driven
to. | only know the dark fright and
horror of that hour.
Zone of those little ones, whose
angels do always behold the face of the
Father, came and put her hand on
mine and asked why cried 50 hard.
| told her. She said, He's dead, just
as my mamma is, and I'll tell papa.
And she went to him, and | could not
doubt but, softened by his own great
sorrow and his sweet child pleadings,
he would help me. But | saw him
shake his wOIldly-wise head and heard
him say, She is crying too hard, too
publicly and rushed into the state
room. milne OF not must hido the
sObs could not check.
"Then came a thought-One there
was, even on that awful boat, who
knew all; and dropped on my knees
and simply said, PITY me, pity me,
dear Savior. SQoe, or / perjSh' |
said those words over and over. The
loving little girl had not been con-
vinced, and came and peered through
the glass and made her father look,
and then she came in and put her
arms around my neck and said:
"'Here is a five-dollar bill papa gave
me for you because bad girls don't
pr0y.'
"When the steamer touched the
wharf. my husband and his father
rushed upon it. My husband had
stepped back to speak to a friend on
the wharf, and, but for their seizlng
him, he would have tried to jump on
board. He telegraphed his father,
took the night express, and was there
before the boat arrived.
"IIe had an elegant picture paintei
of the little girl, and every Christmas
we dress it with flowers, and call it
The Chrtrtmas Angel." Mrs. l.. E.
Sanford. in ". Y Observer.