Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1878-07-24
THE LOST CHILD.
BY MARY KYLE DALLAS.


night. It was dawn again, ana he must
90 home without him-without his little
child-his treasure-his most precious
tell its mother that the boy was not
the man felt sure of that.
All his life he had dreaded. this all the
title life of that baby boy. He had
been Ikea man who wandered amongst
thieves with diamond in his possession
in full sight of all eyes. 1t seemed to
him that some one must rob him of it.
All the old stories of gipsies who stole
children had troubled him sorely; and
his heart had ached over the pitiful tale
of the little chimney-sweepe who, more
than hundred years ago, while plying
his trade, came down the chimney of
the nursery from which he had been
stolen when timer fellow still, and
recognizing it and his mother, was re-
stored to love and home at last
Often in the night had the thought so
overcome him that he had stolen from
his bed in the darkness to feel the little
head of his sleeping boy on the pillow
of his crib. Even his wife, the child's
mother, who had loved him SO, would
have laughed at his fancies. So he kept
them to himself. Only once-once he
was forced to tell her. That was when
he tattooed the child's foot.
Right on the instep he had marked it
with a little blue w. 1t was painful
every prick hurt him worse than it did
the boy. And the mother. coming
home, had been angry and grieved, and
then he told her: #...s
IF the child were stolen, we should
know him, though his face were altered
though he forgot his name and us.
That is why [ did it,
And she had said:
"People have children enough of
their own. Children are only valuable
to their parents. You are SO romantic
SO foolish p
Now it had come The foolish fear
was realized. Lost or stolen the boy
was gone, and that tattoo mark was the
only thing that comforted him. Alive
or dead. they should know him-now,
or after long years, for those marks
we're indelible, and no one else would
mark his foot with that tiny w and the
TIMER cross that followed.
Alive or dead Could the boy be
dead? He cast up his hands in his
agony and uttered cry that rang
through the sleeping street. People
turned in their beds, and said to them
selves that there must be fight or that
some drunken man was making night
hideous. Some earl Y rlsers ended their
sleep then and there, for no one knew
why the man cried out, or who he was,
or where be went, save the solitary po-
iceman, who gave him grave salute
as he passed. Neither asked the other,
Have you found the child?" They
knew the question was useless.
But at home, where the lights had
burned all night, the mother, who paced
to and fro, asked it, though she knew
the answer would be No"
"You have not searched everywhere"
she said. You have forgotten some
place-some ones house where he may
have gone. Go out again-go. [ will
go also. You told me would bring
him back, or would not have been left
at home. Go p -.1
The man turned on his very TIRES
hold.
!" I thought he might be here" he
said: and [ wanted to tell vou-the
tattoo mark, we shall be sure" -----
Then he fell forward on his face. For
twenty-four hours. he had not tasted
food, but only his faintness told him
that he was hungry. ...- 49,
Then the mother remembered that
she was also wife. The wretchei
people ate and drank-stones and sea-
water, for aught they knew; but they
needed strength. For days they looked
for their child in every direction. The
river was dragged, the hospitals, even
the prisons, searched.
They spent their small means in adj
vertising They posted notices Of their
loss on the walls. All in vain.
After others knew that they followed
forlorn hope, they still pursued it as
earnestly as ever. And SO the weeks
rolled by, the months faded, the years
followed. Theirs was a hard case. If
Death had taken the boy it would have
been far easier to bear; but they did
not believe him dead, and where was
he? In whose hands? Had he incurred
for them and for home? Had he been
il-used-beaten They knew nothing,
and the suspense wore their lives away.
1t was old story to others very soon; 1t
was always terribly new to them, At
any moment it seemed to them that
the door might open and their child
enter, and the patter of little feet upon
the stones set their hearts beating wildly.
This when ten years had passed, and
the child of four would have been a
child no longery but youth taller,
doubtless, than bis mother. .##
No other children came TO these
people, and they were very miserable.
The man seemed crushed-he had
neither ambition nor energy. The
woman went about her daily toll in a
dull, listless manner-Their hair grew
gray, and their brows wrinkled, very
early. Friends were pitiful; but grief
does not iuyite-it rather repels. b'" .
At last they seemed to stand alone in
the world; old acquaintance and rela-
tiVes We're gone, or had forgotten them.
They made DO new ones. Poor, lonely,
sad, they chung TO each other, and