The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1877-12-20


and protection.
" should like to keep her. I should
like to take her home,' said he.
Good for your said a man who had
not yet spoken-only poor coa1-heaver,
begflmed and smutched from top to toe.
Good for youl You see, gentlemen,
'taln't noways certain't the woman Won't
come back next train; so what S the hurry
| about sending the baby to the poor house
-for that's what it would come to. If
the woman don't come and we don't hear
nothing after we've advertised, pears to
me it'll be time enough to talk about the
poor-house them"
No one offered ahy objection to this
view of the case, and tie coal-heaver
added:
&c It Will cost something to advertise.
| though; don't knows that ought to come
onto Bob"
Certainly not, =" said the depot-mas-
ter, taking out his pocket-beok, an ex-
| ample whieh was Immediately followed
by others, SO that an amount was col
lected quite sufficient to defray all con-
tingent expenses, and handed over to
Bob. Then he walked out of the depot
with the baby and carpet-bag, followed
by his friend, the coal-heaver.
Have a ride on my keart p asked the
latter.
"Don't care if I do, il it's in your
way" said Bob.
"TIl make i. shfny way" said the good
natared man. So Bob climbed in, the
horse started off at a slow trot, and the
little cart iolted away over the cobble-
stones, with its novel freight
It was not till Bob came In sight of
the little ohe-story house which he called
his home that he began TO ask himself
whether he had hot acted hastily in un-
! dertakihg such charge without consult
ing Mother Darby, as he called the
woman with whom he lived
For Bob was an orphan; hay, more,
he had neither kith nor kin that he
knew Of in the wide world. Ever I sin6e
he could rem member, he had been passed
from One to another, who had been will
ing to harbor him for a little while,
either for charity or the work he could
do. For two or three months his home
had been with Mother Darby, receiving
his board and scanty clothing in consid-
Grafton of his tending the cow, bringing
in wood and running of errands.
"So, what will Mother Darby say ?"
was the question he asked himself as
the cart stopped at the gate, and, bid
ding the kind coal-heaver good-by, he
entered the house with his burden.
What she did sey was, "What uidef
the sun have you got there now 2"
"She's SO pretty-and the woman
left her, and they talked of sending her
to the poor-house. I couldn't help it."
answered Bob, rather incoherently.
Mercy on us What are you talk
ing about? I can't make head nor tail
of it. But give me the baby, do She's
most frozen, poor thing -
And as the woman, whose heart was
much softer than her speechs sat down
by the fire and began to take off the
child's hood and cloak, Bob's courage
revived, and he told the story from be-
ginning to end, as we know it already.
GA nice job you've undertaken !''
said Mrs. Darby then. "The woman
never1 cone back, that you may de-
pend. She want its mother no more'n
I am
CT thought you'd let it stay till
jectedly.
"Of course I viii. I'm not wild
Iniun, to turn such baby as this adrift
by ITSELF" said Mother Darby.
She then warmed some milk and fed
the little one, and in few minutes it
Was sleeping quietly on Mother Darby;s
old calico lounge, unconscious alike of
past or future perils.
"Her folks is well off, whatever they
be, said Mother Darby, examining the
little blue silk hood trimmed with
swans down, and the embroidered Thibet
cloak.
The woman that gave her to me
was stunner,'' said Bob by which
phrase he no doubt intended to express
his appreciation of her fine clothes.
Bob lost no time in advertising the
child; but days went on and no answer
appeared, nor did the woman return to
claim her charge. The traveling-bag
contained nothing that would afford the
slightest clew to the child's identity ex-
cept the single name "Elsie" on some of
the clothes.
"Well, I'm sorry, but there's nothing
for it but to send it to the poor-house. .
said Mother Darby.
"That I'll never do" said Bob.
"Heyday! I reckon there's some
body to be consulted besides you.
'Tain't likely shall undertake to raise
her at my time of life, and nothing but
my two hands to depend upon, neither"
"But couldn't you let her stay here
if I'd pay her board 2" pleaded Bob.
"You p said Mother Darby, laughing
derisively. "Much as ever you earn the
salt you eat"
"Well, if you won't keep her, 1 sup
pose I must find place for her some
where else, for she shall never go to the
poor-house while can work for her.
"Mercy sakes ! If you're SO set
about it, do let her stay and try it, said
Mother Darby, whose heart secretly
yearned over the child more than she
cared to acknowledge. And so it was
settled, though the good widow could
not believe the arrangement would be
more than temporary.
az dare say, as soon as we begin to
get fond of the child we shall have to
send her of" said she.
But In this case she was mistaken. It
was true that hitherto Bob had not been
overfond of work, and had given her
some ground for the taunt that he hard
ly earned the salt he ate. But now a
great change came over him. He felt
that he had an object in life; was ready
to undertake any honest job, to work
early and late, so that he might keep
Elsie with him.
And when the story got abroad and it
was seen how thoroughly in earnest he
was, much sympathy was manifested for
Bob and ''Bob's baby" as the child
came to be called; and many kind
hearted people were ready to aid him in
his enoeavors. So Bob succeeded as he
deserved to do, and nothing more was
ever said about sending poor Elsie to
the poor-house.
She, meanwhile, continued to grow
and thrive. In fact, she quite outgrew