The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1877-10-04

sad story of the children's Wanderings.
"Ieave me-i am weak sick |
shall liyc-liNc till see them, or'-shc
shuddercd and wrung her hands passion
ately for a moment. Then assuming calm
ness, she said. firmly: 'Iake the colt,
William, and the lantern, and the COW
bells, and your guns. Go straight down
to the creek and raise all about there,
making all the noise You can. Then, If
you get no trace, ride over to Nicks cabin
and rouse them, and get their old hound
he was great pet with the"-she could
only sob the word q children. Take
| Mary'S''- another sob ''bonnet, and VIII
liam, William, bring them back to me u
A single kiss was left on her white lips,
and the anxious father left her, and
springing on his half broken colt, he start
| ed. The prairie echoed to the reverhera-
| tions Of his gun, to the noisy tinkle OF the
bell, to the echoes Of his voice, but no
| answering sound came up out OF the still,
grassy depth. Again and again he made
the circuit of the little clump OF cotton
woods, and then sadly he turned away,
and squirting his horse into u wild gallop,
he started for the nearest cabin. The
four miles We're soon passed, and the sym
| pathizing nci@hhors aroused to aid his
| search.
''Call the dog, Tom,' said the father
as he lifted his wife on to the horse, and
| spring into the saddle.
Il have, father. but can't find him.
W, he here at supper, mother"
II didn't mind, child. set down his
pan of bones, but had heap Of chores
to do, and didn't mind whether he came
up or no. Run to the shed and see, child"
"The bones amt been touched where
can he be y
"Well, We mustn't stop for him. But,
Tom, when he does come You show him
the bonnet It'll start him. And giving
the words to his horse. he followed the
| heart broken father.
''Leave me here" said good Mrs. Ben
nett, us they halted at the creek. 81 can
| find my way to the cabin, if it is dark,
and I'll take good care OF her too. I'll
get her to take some of that cordial stuff
my old doctor in Indiana used to make
| up for folks what was nervous. and if
once get her to sleep, I'll keep her so"
And with fleet steps she hastened to the
lonely home.
But it was only after much coaXing that
lliN ttil''t 'li w toNttilph
the cordial and lie down, and then it was
more to crafty her neighbor than from
any faith in the value of the medicine
But the result proved that it had not
been eXtolled too highly, ion her limbs
soon ceased their conyulSiVe tWltchings,
and her lips their low, sad moaning, and
ere the clock struck twelve She lay in a
| profound, sweet sleep.
'Lucky | thought to bring it along,
said Mrs. Bennett, lifting her head as soon
as the measured breathing Of the mother
assured her she had forgotten her troubles.
"pOOr thing" and she bent compassion
ately over her, and smo0thed back her
disordered hair, "my heart aches for YOU"
''l'll fix the fire all ready to light, and
spread the table, so that | can get supper
ready in a lew minutes when they comt,
for theyll be drea0fully tired, and as to
poor Grey, don't believe he's eaten a
m0nthlul since morning.
Its a pretty night, so still and cool
like, but | wish it WAS brighter If it was
only the full Of the moon and the sky
clear, they might happen to come ON
them: for that's their only chance. They'll
never WaEen them to night with all their
bells and horns and shouts. Children
sleep 50 sound when they're tired. Dear
me but it's dreadful to think OF. If Z
stray wolf should happen to catch them,
if Il rattlesnake or blue racer bite them,
or if they should have to stalve Bless
me, but it would nearly kill her. And
they were such pretty children 50 loving
alWayS--but what's that? ~
She listened eagerly Then cXciaiming
joyTully: "'They're coming III hurry
and get them something to eat" she ran
in and kindled the fire, and ere the horses
had fairly reached the door had a smok-
ing g-hot supper ready for the table.
With outstretched hands She waited
at the door Alas, there were no little
children to be received
eve are getting worn out" said Nick
to his Wife, us he came in, '.and told him
we'd better come home and get a bite
and rest till laybrcak. for he's been on
the go since morning, and without eating,
and maybe Tom would come with the
hound by that time, and we'd stand Il
better chance to find them. Pour him out
some coffee, wife. Sit down Grey. and
eat a bit OF something. Don't shake your
head. | know how it'll choke, but think
of her." and he pointed to the bed
1t seemed to the impatient watchers
that day Wouii never dawn, and with the
first streak of light they mounted their
horses. They had Just started, and Mrs.
Bennett was putting up the bars for them,
when her husband put his hand to his ear
with the exclamation 'Ilark.. ~
''By Jehosaphat. but that's Brun
Yes" as he raised himself up in the sad
die, Its him and no mistake, and now
we stand a chance to find them. Let's
wait u minute. Bless my SOUL but what's
he got in his mouth A-a-yes, as sure
as I'm alive, it's hat "a little straw
hat ~
''Willie's hat !" And the father leaped
to the ground, tears streaming down his
face. "Where's the boy, Brun.'
He asked the question as passionately
as though addressing Il human being.
The creature seemed to read his feelings,
for giving him a wisttul look and wagging
his TAIL he darted back.
.'FOlOW him, Bill-he knows" cried
Nick. And they started on a full gallop.
Mile after mile the dog led them on, paus-
ing not till he came to the ''uiVide." Then
he struck off, made the circuit OF Il slough,
and halted beside Il gopher mound, on
which grew luXuriant clump Of hazels.
Half blind, dizzy in brain, and with a
heart near bursting, the father sprung
from the saddle. One look one only he
gave, and then fell tainting to the ground,
the .oy-the sudden, delrious joy, being
almost us hard tul his stricken soul to
bear, us would have been u mighty sor-
row. There they lay, their little white
arms twincd about each other, their dim
,,lol nhhaIr- t1,neyal ,ltcn tnnat cb1,) a
asleep-the dear little babes Of the prai-
rie
: Owners of the Soil.
When William the Conqucror had fin
ished parcelling out the principaites of
England among his Norman lieges, the
Doomsday Book enumerated 45, 7OG own
crs of real estate outside of London.
Eight centuries Of civilization have reduc-
ed that number of landholders to 30, 176,