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

you can better days will come by-and-
bye. just as soon as l get off from my
business I'll go to the city and obtain
permanent help. In the meantime don't
fret the roses from your cheeks and the
brightness from your eyes"
But despite my husbands loving
words and constant help, for he took
one-half Of the household labor on his
own hands. continued to murmur at
my fate, and one morning the crisis
came.
Breakfast was unusually late, little
Pearl cross to absolute fretfulness, and
the sick laborer up stairs in need of
constant attention, Philip obliged TO
leave early, and, after coaxing and
hushing Pearl to sleep, laid her in her
dainty little crib and went about my
mornings work.
felt wronged and injured; and while
| worked away, dusting off the SCOT and
ashes and scrubbiug up the mud, the
hot tears fell so fast as almost to blind
me. My husband was cruel, heartless,
l thought, to take me from q home
where all was beauty and pleasure, and
bring me to that dreadful place to wear
my life out in hateful drudgery. /
would sooner be in my grave than to
live on so from year to year.
In the midst of this despair, l heard
the sick man calling from above, and
hurried to him. His fever was rising
again; he 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 readiness for the
farming hands. In the midst of my
work and hurry, little PEARLS sharp, i'm
4 iva, snsp
What should l doP / had 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 have her cry out
oh, dear, / wish / had no babym
But the instant the unwomanly wish
had passed my lips, repented of having
uttered it. No baby, no little Pearl
The bare thought filled me with shud-
dering terror. Hurriedly administering
the sick mans potion, l hastened down,
eager to compensate for my unmotherly
words by fond caresses.
There stood the little cradle in the ac-
customed corner, the dainty lace cover
lid thrown back, the pillow still damp
and warm from the impress of the curly
head, but Pearl was gone!
For an instant | stood dumb-breath-
less, then, in frantic foolishness, search
ed the rooms, the yard, calling upon the
child's name, as if she could hear and
answer me. And then, at last, happy
thought broke like sunlight upon me.
My husband had been home, end stolen
away the child to tease me. set about
preparing dinner, looking every monent
TO see him come in. In little while the
noon bell rang, bringing the laborers
from the clearing. / hurried out to meet
them.
"Where is Mr.. Weston?" questioned,
with my heart in my mouth.
Haven't seen him, ma'am, since
morning"
"Not seen himp You surely have;
he's got my baby"
But the men shook their heads, and
catching up my shawl, / hurried off in
the direction of his office.
Half mile from the cottage l met him
on his way home.
"Why, Belle" he CRIED catching my
arm and looking down in CONSERVATION
at my draggled garments and muddy
feet, "where are you goingP What is
the matterp"
"Oh, Philip, the baby, little Pearl,
what have you done with her?"
"Done with little Pearl? Are you
going mad, BELIEF Tell me what you
meanp"
"She's gone-little PEARLS gone.
came down stairs and found her cradle
empty, and was sure you had her."
He stood silent for moment, his face
growing as white and stern as death !;
then he said, solemnly:
"No, Belle, l haven't seen the child. /
haven't been home since morning"
He started on before me, with long,
rapid strides, into the cottage, and up
to the little cradle standing in the cor
ner, as if to satisfy his own eyes. Then
he turned back to the yard, and began
to examine the tracks in the mud around
the doorway. The farm hands were ex-
amining them also.
"Moccasin tracks, boss" said one old
man, significantly, pointing to an inden-
ture in the yielding soil. "Injuns, l
My husbands face grew shade
whittier.
"Yes," he responded, that's it;
come, my lads, we haven't moment to
ose."
He started off, followed by the labor
ers, but n few rods from the house he
turned back.
Poor Belle" he said, putting his arms
around 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 Tonight; you had better go over
to Mr.. Delavan's and stay till we re-
turn"
But 1 did not go. 1 went into the
lonely cottage, and fell upon my knees
AAN
given me my wish; had no baby. All,
me, the self-torture, the bitterness of
those long, long hours can never be de-
scribed
Morning dawned at last, lurid and
misty, red sun struggling up through
ragged pillows of gray tog. About ten
O'Clock my husband and his party re-
turned, weary, haggard and hopeless
They had followed the Indians all night;