Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1879-06-27

ing Pearl to sleep, laid her in her
dainty little crib, and went about my
mornings work.
felt wronged and injured, and while
| worked away dUstlng Oft the SCOT
and ashes and scrubbiug up the mud,
| the hot tears fell so fast as almost to
blind me. Ny husband had been cruel,
heartless, thought to tear me from 4
home where all was beauty and pleas
ure, and bring ME 10 that dreadful place
to wear my life out in hateful -drudg-
cry. would sooner be i'll my grave
than to live on so from year to year.
In the midst Of this despair, | heard
the sick man calling from above. and
hurried 10 him. His fever was rising
again, lie needed cooling draughtS and
ice-cloths to his head. went TO work
to prepare them with nervous haste, for
the morning was slipping by, and the
noon meal must be in READINGS fer the
farming hands. In tie midst of my
work and hurry, Little Pearls sharp,
imperative cry came piping from be
low. What should | DO? | mad just
spent over half an hour lulling her to
sleep, and here she was on my hands
again.
81 won't go down." l cried in real
anger "She may nave her cry out
Oh, dear, | wish had no baby
But the instant the unwomanly wish
had passed my lips, | repented of hav-
ing uttered it. No baby, no Little
Pearl. The bare thought filled me with
Ishuddering terror. Hurliedly admin
! iStar;,,, tl,a sob n,n,,fs ,Nnrtinn | has
tened down eager to compensate for
my unmotherly words by fond cares
seS.
There stood the little cradle il its
accustomed corner, the dainty lace
coverlid thrown back, the pillow still
damp and warm from the impress of
the little curly head, but Pearl was
gone
For an instant | stood dumb breath
less; then, III frantic foolishness,
searched the rooms, the yard. calling
upon the child's name, As if she could
hear and answer me. And then, ut
last, a happy thought broke like sun
light upon me. My husband had been
home, and stolen away the child to
tease me. set about preparing dinner,
looking every moment to seen him
come in. In a little while the noon
bell rang, bring the laborers from the
clearing. hurried out to meet them.
"Where is Mr.. WeSton?" | ques-
toned, with my heart in my mouth.
Haven't seen him, ma'am since this
morning"
"Not see him? You surely have; he's
got my baby
But the men shook their heads, and
catching up my shawl hurried oil in
the direction of his Office.
Half a mile from the cottage l met
him on his way home.
"Why, Belle" he cried catching my
arm, and looking down i'll CONSERVATION
at my dragged garments and muddy
feet, where are you going what is the
natter"
90 Philip, the baby, Little Pearl,
what have you done with her.
Ozone with Little Pearl? Are you
going mad, Belle? Tell me what you
mean"
"She's gone-Little Pearls gone. |
empty, and | was 50 sure you had her"
He stood silent moment, his face
growing as white and stern rs death /;
then he said, solemnly:
"No, Belle, haven't seen the child
| haven't been home since morning"
He started on before me with long,
rapid strides, into the cottage, and ~
to the little cradle standing in the cor
ner, MS if to satisfy his own eyes. Then
ne turned back to the yard, and began
to examine the tracks in the mud
around the doorway. The farm hands
We're examining them also.
"Moccasin tracks, Boss, said one Old
man, significantly, pointing to an in
denture in the yielding soil. '1njuns,
guess"
My husbands face grew a shade
whittier.
eyes" ne responded, chats it; come
my lads, we haven'ta moment to lose. "
lie started of, followed by the labor
ers, but few rods from the house he
turned back.
"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
mere, anu ~ NdS IutyJ no uOuDl, WHO
stole the child. We must try to inter
cept them before they cross the river;
we may not be back tonight; you had
better go over to Mr. Delevan's and stay
till we return"
But | did not go. | went into the
lonely cottage, and fell on my kness be.
side the little empty crib. God had
given me my wish / had no baby. All,
me, the self torture, the bitterness Of
those long, long hours can never be de-
scribedl
Morning dawned at last, lurid and mis-
ty. red sun struggling up through rag
ged pillows of gray fog. About 10
o'clock my husband and his party re-
turned, weary, haggard and hopeless.
They had followed the Indians all night,
but when at last they came up with
them, far beyond the river, they could
gain no tidings of the child. And all
our after efforts were equally nnsucceSs-
full. We offered rewards, and institut-
ed every means Of inquiry, but in vain.
Little Pearl was goncl had no baby
There was ample time for leisure
then; no peevish cries, no busy little