Fayette County herald. [volume] (Washington [Washington Court House], Fayette County, O. [Ohio]) 1860-1???, 1879-12-11
The Child on the DOOr.Step.
"Did she leave any children?"
Eyes, this bit of a child"
g And who'll take harPl

SD9 WHO bAu Va cb O4AANs
And who'll take herP"
Z" / don't know, We are very poor
around here, sir, but we must find her
place somewhere. God help the
little girl for she is all alone nowp'
The sexton had called at an old tene.
ment house on Lafayette street east to
take body to a pauper's field-the
body of one whose life had been worn
out in the tread-mill of hunger and de-
spair. Nobody knew that the mother
was dead-hardly suspected that she
was i'll, until one morning this child
appeared at a neighbours door and
quietly said:
"Would you be afraid to come over
to my house, for ma is dead and Pm
keeping awful still, and Pm afraid to
talk to her when she won't answer"
The mother had been dead four
hours. Long before day came
the fame of life had burned low and
died out, and that child, hardly seven
years old, had been with the corpse
through the long hours, clasping the
cold hand, kissing the white face, and
calling for life to return. When asked
if she had any friends she shook her
head. When they told her she was
alone in the great world she looked out
of the old window on the bleak Novem-
Der day and answered.:
" l can make three kinds of dresses
for doll-babies, build fires and carry in
wood, and I'll work ever so hard if
somebody will let me live with themp'
There was no funeral. There was
no need of sermon there. The lines
of sorrow around the dead woman's
mouth counted for more in Heaven
than any eulOgy man could deliver.
There was no Grape. In place of it
three or four honest-hearted women let
their tears fall upon the white face and
whispered:
Poor mother-poor childr'
The child's big blue eyes were full of
tears, but there was hardly tremor in
her voice as she nestled her warm
cheek against the lips stilled forever
and said:
Goodbye, ma-you'll come down
from Heaven every night at dark, won't
you, and you'll take me up there just as
soon as you can, won't you?"
The landlord locked up the house.
and the child went home with one of
the women. When night came she
stole out of the house and away from
those who sought to comfort her, and
going back to the old house she sat
down on the doorstep, having no COM
pany but the darkness. An officer |
passed that way, and leaning over the
gate he peered through the darkness at |
on the step and called out: !
g Is anybody there?" |
'Nobody but little girl!'' came the
answer.
"Who is itp" '..
"It's alittle girl whose mawas buried
5o-day!' T.a I.-34./f
He opened the gate and went closer,
md as he made out her little bare head |
Ind innocent face he said:
'"Why, child, aren't you afraidP"
II was afraid a little while ago."
jhe said, "but just as soon as l asked |
na not to let anybody hurt me l got
light over it. Would anybody dare
lurt little girl whose ma is dead?
They could be tooken up, couldn't
heyP"
He offered to go with her to the house
where she was to have q home for
ew days, and taking his big hand with
he utmest confidence she walked be-
tide him and said:
" l amt going to cry much till get
% bed, where folks can't see me?'
81 hope every one will be good to
'ou," he remarked as he put his hand
'ver her curly head.
If they don't be, they'll never go
o Heaven, will theyP'' she queried.
ono" A&1
There was a long pause, and then she
aid
"But l guess they will be. I can
make a doll out of clothes pin and
'iece of calico, and / guess somebody
Till be glad to let me live with 'em. If
ou see me over on the step some other
light you needn't be a bit afraid, for l
int big enough to hurt anybody, even
didn't want to cry all the timeP'-
free Press.
A Queer Bug.