Bradford opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1874-1881, 1877-08-04
FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
The Story Of a Mothers Love.

the great logs cracke and flare up the
wide chimney, up which it is my wont
to say you could drive a coach and four.
! draw my chair nearer to it with a
shiver.
"What Il night Y say.
els it still showing ?" asks my wife,
who sits opposite to me, her books and
work on the table before her.
EAST. You can scarcely see Il yard
before you"
Heaven help any poor creature on
the moor tonight !" says she.
"Who would venture ont 4? 1t began
showing before dark, and all the people
about know the danger of being be-
nightcd on the moor in snow-storm."
"Yes. But have known people fro
zen to death hereabout before now."
1t is beginning to clear" tell my
wife, and al inform her that it is past
eleven. AS she lights her candle at n
side-tablc hear n whining and scratch
ing at the front door.
"There is Laddie loose again." says
size. Would you let him in, dear q
I did not like facing the cold wind,
but could not refuse to let in the poor
animal. Strangely enough, when I
opened the door and called him, he
wouldn't come. He runs up to the door
and looks into my face with dumb en-
treaty; then he runs back few steps,
looking round to see if am following;
and finally, he takes my coat in his
mouth and tries to draw me out.
"Laddie won't come in," I call out
to my wife. con the contrary, he
seems to want me to go out and have a
game of snow ball with him."
comes to the door. The collie was hers
before we were married, and she is al
most as fond of him, tell her, as she is
of Jack, our eldest boy.
"Laddie, Laddie /" she calls; "come
in, sir"
He comes obediently at her call, but
refuses to enter the house, and pursues
the same dumb pantomime he has al
ready tried on me.
81 shall shut him out, Jessie, say
ga night in the snow won't hurt him."
and I prepare to close the door.
"You will do nothing of the kind"
she replies, with an anxious look; "but
you will rouse the servants at once and
follow him. Some one is lost in the
snow, and Laddie knows it..
I laugh.
"Really, Jessie, you are absurd. Lad
die is q sagacious animal, no doubt, but
l cannot believe he is as clever as that.
How can he possibly know whether any
one is lost in the snow or not p
Because he has found them, AMI
come back to us for help. Look Mt him
now."
1 cannot but own that the dog seems
restless and uneasy, and is evidently en-
deavoring to coax us to follow him; he
looks at us with pathetic entreaty in his
eyes. "Why won't you be-
lieve me?' he seems to ask.
Come" she continues; "you know
you could not rest while there was a
possibility of fellow creature wanting
your assistance. And am certain Lad
die is not deceiving u.s.
What is a poor hen-peckel man to do?
l grumble and resist and yield; as 1 have
often grumbled and resisted and yielded I
before, and as / doubtless often shall
again.
Laddie once found man in the !
SNOW before, but he was dead" Jessie .
says, as she hurries off to fill flask with .
brandy, and get ready some blankets for
us to take with lis. In the meantime 1 |
rouse the servants. They are all Eng
lish, with the exception of Donald the
gardener, and I can see that they are
scoffingly skeptical of Laddie's sagacity,
and inwardly disgusted at having to turn
out of their warm beds and face the Bit
ter winters night.
Dinna trouble yersels,"I hear old
Donald say. "The mistress is right
enough. Aud Laddie is cleverer than
mony a Christian, and will find some
hing in the snaw this night"
"Don't sit up, JESSIE" I say, as we
start; "we may be out half Me night on
his wild-goose chase.
Follow Laddie closely" is the only
,nswer she makes.
The dog springs forward with a joyous
bark, constantly looking back to see if
we are following. As we pass through
The avenue gates and emerge on to the
moor, the moon struggles for moment
through the driving clouds, and lights
up with sickly CLEAN the snow-clad
country before us.
Its like looking for a needle in
-'ndls of hay. sir, says John, the coeph-