The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1877-01-11

NEWS from Atlce.
Happily, however, she was so busy
WIN her Christmas preparations that
she was not so observing as usual :;
lhough she did notice his absent man
ner, and readily accepted the excuse of
annoying business.
All the evening he held a paper be-
tore his face, though he saw not word
In it while his wife dressed a doll for
Baby, fitting the delicate material and
tying the bright ribbons with fingers
that had wor ked all day on a wonder
fui surprise for him, Softly she hum
med low baby-soDg at her work, every
note of which recalled the baby-ways
OF the lost one, and gave new pang to
the heart of the father.
Morning renewed the search. The
pollce were at work, the telegraph was
employed, railroad employees were
questioned, business was utterly neg
iected, and the close of the day found
both father and grandfather more
silent, more hopeless, than the night
before
Another long, tedious evening passed
away at the cottage. Another news
/ paper covered Fred's face, while he re-
! Volved plans of search, and went over
and over in his mind every possible
scheme he could invent; while the ie-
norant young mother chatted of her
plans-talking lovingly of Baby and her
delight, till he feared he should lose his
| reason.
thus the time went on-the DAYS in
frantic, untiring search; the nights in
sleepless agony-till the day before
Christmas.
'Now, Fred" Alice said in the morn
ing, "be sure and bring Maudie to-
night. The tree is all ready and I'll
have it lighted up when you arrives
"No, don't!" he cried suddenly.
"Why? why?" she asked, looking up
in surprise at his distressed face. "How
strangely you act, Fred"
81 mean," he went on hurriedly,
"perhaps you better wait till we are in
the house. The-the-train may be
delayed, and the-the candles may burn
out.''
"Oh! yes," said Alice. "That was
thoughtful of you. I'll wait till bear
you at the gate, and you be as long as
possible in the hall. Take off Maudie's
things, and by that time I'll have it all
lighted. Goodbye" And she put up
her face for kiss. Fred gave it with
pang, for he thought how the face
would look when he saw it next, and
started off.
By noon every last touch was given
to the tree; and Mrs. Benson, feeling
tired, went out for walk in the bracing
winter air. After calling on one or two
friends, she found herself near the resi-
dence of Mrs. Buford, who had lived
there but a short time.
"There! I've been intending to call
on Mrs. Buford," she thought; and |
believe I'll do so now. I'd like to see
the stray child they say Mr.. Buford
found so strangely in the cars. How |
pity the mother, whoever she may be;
though suppose it must be she aban-
doned it,
She rang the bell and was admitted.
The parlor door was open; Mrs. Buford |
was sitting at the table, with some light |
work; and there on the floor, with a
kitten in her arms, sat her own Maud. |
Like an inspiration the whole thing
flashed over her. Fred's strange con-
duct and silence about Baby, which she
had not noticed before; the child found |
in the cars-she understood it all in an
instant, and all the agony of losing and
ali the joy of finding her rushed through
her heart in a moment.
"Why! why!" she gasped, "it's nv
own baby!" and, with vague instinct |
that her ownership might be disputed,
she snatched the child from the floor
and turned and fled.
The amazed Mrs. Buford thought she |
was crazy, and called eagerly after her;
but no human being could overtake the |
fleet steps of this thoroughly alarmed
mother. Drawing her own cloak
around the child, as she ran, she hasti
ly fled to her own home, sprang in, and
bolted every door, as though she were
pursued; then, dropping breathless in
to chair, she burst into wild tears,
hugging Maudie and covering her won
dering face with kisses.
The servant girl came in, and for a
short time there was wild scene in
that quiet house. The mothers ex-
hausting tears were followed by nervous
fainting and Mysteries, and it was hours
before calmness was restored to the
household.
Meantime Mrs. Buford, who had fol-
lowed her home, to see what became of
told her side of the story, and
the whole thing was understood.
Fred Benson walked up from the train
that night in desperate state of mind.
Many times on the way home had he
thought of jumping from the train, to
end his own misery and avoid seeing
that Of his wife. All day he had tried
to picture her horror and grief; ana