The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1879-04-12

"HS'S - alI' WESTON 4 QuesuOueui
with my heart In my mouth.
Haven't seen him, ma'am, since this
mot seen hint Yousurely have he's
got my baby"
But the men shook their heads. and
catching up my shawl, l hurried Off the
direction OF his Office.
Half a mile from the cottage | met him
on his way home"
"Why, Belle" he cried, catching my
arm, and looking down III conservation
Of my draggled garments and muddy feet,
where are you going? what is the mat.
20, Philip, the baby, Little Pearl, what
lave you done with herr"
"DOne with Little Pearl? Are YOU 90.
Ing mad, Belle? Tell me what you mieanP"
She's gone-tittle Pearls gone, ] came
down stairs and found her little cradle
empty, and was sure you had her"
"He stood silent a moment, his face
growing ~ white and stern as death; then
he said solemnly:
mo, Belle, | haven't seen the child. /
haven't been home since morning"
lie started On before me, with long,
rapid strides, into the cottage, and up to
the little cradle standing in the corner. as
il to satisfy his own eyes. Then he turn.
ed back to the yard, and began to examine
the tracks in the mud around the door.
way. The farm.hands were examining
them also.
"MocCasln tracks Boss" said one old
man, Significantly, pointing to an indent.
ure in the yielding soil. "Iniuns, /
guess"
My husbands face grew q shade whittier.
my lads, We haven't a moment anti 10 1 ~ eSH''
lie started of, followed by the laborers,
but a few rods from the house he turned
buck.
"Poor Belle" he said, putting his arms
round me, this Is terrible for you, but
you must be strong, and hope for the best.
The Indians have passed here, and it was
they, no doubt, who stole the child. We
must try to intercept them before they
cross the river. We may not be back to-
night: you had better go over to Mr..
Delevan's and stay till We return"
But did not go. went into the lone
y cottage, and fell on my knees beside the
little empty crib. God had given me nv
wish; had no baby. All, me, the SELF
torture, the bitterness Of those long, long
hours can never be described!
Morning dawned at last, lurid and misty.
q red sun struggled up through ragged BIZ.
lows OF gray log. About ten o'clock my
husband and his party returned, weary,
haggard and hopeless. They had follow
cd the Indians all night, but when at last
they came up with them, far behind the
river, they. could gain no tidings OF the
child. And all our after efforts were
equally unsuccessful. We offered rewards,
and instituted every means of inquiry,
but in vain. Little Pearl was gone?i had
no baby!
There was ample time for leisure then;
no peevish cries, no little baby wants to
occupy me! But | who had hated labor,
lied to i now as my sole refuge and com.
tort. The only ease l found was in con
slant action. Ny husband worked too.
but his life seemed to have lost its impel.
ling force, its happiest inspiration.
Years went by, and not content with
my simple household duties l took charge
of a neighboring school-later / aided nv
husband in his office. My mind expand
cd, my ideas enlarged. / was no longer
an indolent, helpless repiner, but a strong,
selt-reliant, laboring woman, a true help
mate for my husband. Success crowned
our united efforts, wealth and renown
flowed in upon us, my husband was aleCt-
ed Judge, and spoken Of for Congress but
we were childless, for no more babies
came.
Ten years after our removal to the west,
we received intelligence oil nv uncle's
death, and being his only heirs, we went
down at n to attend the settlement OF
his estate. Returning homeward, we
made a tour OF Niagara and the principal
northern cities.
One September night found us in New
York and at the opera. The house was
unusually gay, the music divine, but
through all the glamour and perfume OF
gorgeous toilets, amid the wailing OF the
music and the triumphant strains of the
singers, | sat unconscious, almost indifer-
ent, the old yearning in my heart reused
up 10 strange and sudden intensity. Only
one thought possessed me, and that was
my lost baby, Little Pearl. I seemed 10 be
living over that terrible morning and
long night again, and my soul cried out
for my child with a terrible longing that
would not be silenced. Yet in the gay
house and exquisite music there was
nothing suggestive OF her short, sweet
life; why, then,did she seem so near to meP
What was itthat shook and thrilled me soP
The opera over, we started for our hotel.
At one OF the crossings the carriage made
a sudden halt.
"Nothing but a strap broke loose, all
right in a moment, sir" said the driver in
answer to my husbands inquiry.
leaned out while he was arranging it,
looking over the silent city, and up into
the solemn summer night. The sky was
blue and cloudless, the stars mellow and
misty, and n full moon hung like a golden
jewel In the far west. My eyes filled with
tears, and IN inexpressible yearning filed
my soul.
"Where is my baby where is Little
Pearl to-night2" ! murmured.
"PleNsc, madnm, just ono pennyw
The slender, childish voice, mellow and
sweet as the note Of u %blackbird, startled
me out Of my revery, and, looking down,
saw a tiny figure and an appealing baby
face below in the misty moonlight.
"Please, madam, never begged before,
but grandmarm Is so sick, and she's cat
nothing since yesterday"
Just then the driver sprang to his box,
and the carriage whirled of again, leaving
the little thing far behind, but ! caught
at my husbands arm In breathless eager
ness.
"Philip," l entreated, "stop the carriage.
| must see that child"
lie glanced back hesitatingly, and there
the little thing stood in the moonlight,
Just as we had left her."
II NT .D,,rk DI,sl;n u 7 .s~nnkaI. u1anIk
deny me-"
And my husband babe the driver turn
back, which he did with amuttcred i'm.
precatlon.
"Now, my littlegirl, rsaid, leaning out
and extending my arm, "c9'ne here, and
1Grandmnrm Il sirk i Sic rnnlied- com