The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1879-06-11

lost its impelling force, its happiest in
spiration.
Years went by, and not content with
my simple household duties, / took
charge of neighboring schOol-later
| aided my husband in his office. NY
mind expanded, my ideas enlarged, l was
no longer an indolent, helpless repiner,
but strong, self-relant, laboring
woman, true helpmate for my hus-
band. Success crowned our United
efforts, wealth and renown flowed in
upon us, my husband was elected 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 of my
uncle's death, and being his only heirs,
we went down at once to attend to 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 indif-
ferent, the old yearning in my heart
reused up to strange and sudden inten-
sity. Only one thought possessed me,
and that was my lost baby, little Pearl.
l seemed to be living over that terrible
morning and long, long night again, and
my soul cried out for my child with a
longing that would not be silenced. Yet
in the gay house and exquisite music
there was nothing suggestive of her
short, sweet little life; why, then, did
she seem so near to meP what was it
that thrilled and shook me SOP
The opera over, we started for our
hotel. At one of the crossings the car
riage made sudden halt.
Nothing but 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 full moon hung like Il
golden jewel in the far west. My eyes
filled with tears, and an inexpressible
yearning filled my soul.
"Where is my baby-where is little
Pearl tonight" l murmured.
Please, madam, Just one pennyw
The slender, childish voice, mellow
and sweet as the note of a blackbird,
startled me out of my reverie, and, look
ing down, saw tiny figure and an ap-
pealing baby face below in the misty
moonlight.
Please. madam. I never begged be-
fore, but grandmarm is so sick, and she's
eat nothing since yesterday"
Just then the driver sprang to his box,
and the carriage whirled off again, leav-
ing the little thing far behind, but |
caught at my husbands arm in breath
less eagerness.
Philip" entreated, "stop the car
riage, must see that child"
He glanced back hesltatingly, and
there the little thing stood in the moon
light, just as we had left her.
L must, Philip" l repeated; " don't
deny me-"
Andmy husband bade the driver turn
back, which he did with a muttered i'm
precation.
Now, my little girl" said, leaning
out and extending my arm, "come here
and tell me how | can help you"
"Grandmarm is sick" she replied,
coming close up to the wheels and rails
ing her soft blue eyes to my face, land
so hungry, and L never begged before,
MADAME
And where does your grandma 1--we,
dearP"
Right down the street, in that row
of tenements."
Take her up, Philip; we must look
into this case"
My husband obeyed, and the driver,
being promised double pay, turned
down toward the tenements. | seated
the little girl beside me, and took her lit
tie brown hand in mine. The bare touch
of her slender fingers made the very
blood in my heart thrill, and / wanted
to clasp her in my arms and cover her
poor, wan little face with kisses, with a
longing that was absolute pain.
How pretty she is" l said, smooth
inG back her tangled golden hair that
shaded her white forehead and sweet
blue eyes.
"She looks like frightened bird, +" said
my husband, smiling; "what will you
do with her, BELIEF"
keep her forever, if can, q" l replied,
with feeling of intense happiness at my
heart.
just then we reached the tenements.
That's grandmarm's room, said the
child, pointing upward to a window in
which dim light was burning.
We left the carriage and followed her
up a long flight of stairs, and into the
low, humble room. On the rude couch
lay an old woman, her strong, worn face
wearing that pallor which never knows
a change.
Grandmarm," cries the child, run
ming to the bedside, "here's good, nice
lady come, and she'll give you some tea,
and you'll get well now"
Tie old woman turned her head. her
eager eyes fastening themselves upon us.
"Thank God" she murmured, Il
thought l should die and leave her
alone"
"What can l do for you, madam" l
asked, bending over her.
Nothing for me, I'm past help it's
the child / want looked after"
"Yes, but you must have nourish-
ment-Philip, go out for some tea, and
We'll have a fire at once.n
Woman" she said, solemnly, listen
to me. l am dying-in n few hours l
shall be in the other world-I could
drink a drop of water, but nothing else. "