The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1879-05-09

and give them glimpses of the fairy
tales of science" when the other fairy
tales palled, and of worlds beyond when
the pleasures of their own were not
enough. And then there were the walk
ing and talking dolls, with a multitude
OF other mechanical toys, and there were
parallel bars, and, yes, low flying ira
peze. A happy little set of savages they
were that had the freedom of this de
lightful room when the days spelling
and multiplying was over. There were
Robin and Matte, the twins, and Ned :;
there were the two orphan cousins that
had been added to the number: there
were usually more or less of the neigh
qors' babies; and there was Cyrus, the
pet and darling of them all, fair-faced,
blue-eyed little fellow, with his long vel
low curls floating over his sholders-al-
most too lovely, it seemed to that house
hold, for common flesh and blood. A
precocious little creature too, for his four
years, full of mischief, his old nurse said,
as nut is of meat, and full of sweetness
too. Singing about the house from dawn
till dark, kissing the dog, which felt him
a peculiar charge, worrying the cat, feed
ing the birds, vanishing the chairs with
the mucilage, decorating the wall with
his fingers dipped in the ink bottle,
breaking the precious flower from the
/ oeNAA AOA oOAAAC quest, huOW-
no difference between servants and mast
ers, and having kisses for all, always Sc
rious and always loving in the midst of
his preOccupatiOn and mischief, the lit
tie fellow was the idol of home and of
the region round about. One night as
they all sat in the play-room by fire (t
being rainy Outside), when the games had
failed any longer to amuse, each one recit-
ed some verse already learned; and while
thus engaged, it was found that Cyrus
had been printing on the bit of a black
board, in uncouth but very recognizable
characters, the letters of the alphabet;
and when the others had said their say,
he came and stood by his mothers knee
and repeated the Better Land" in his
sweet, serious voice and baby patois.
AS Mrs. Dean went through the play
room, later, with a candle IN her hand
those characters upon the blackboard
flared up like the handwriting on the
wall, and made her shiver, as she after
ward remembered, she knew not why
She passed through into the nurseries,
and saw her little people all gently sleep
ing there; but somehow her heart seem
ed to linger the longest round Cyrus, as
he lay with the coverings tossed to the
winds, and his yellow curls streaming
around his face in its rosy slumber like
a nimbus.
The next night that little bed was va
cant, and bands of men were searching
the country far and wide for Cyrus; the
father rode, half frantic, from one place
to another; the mother, after the first,
staid at home and wrung her hands, the
the other children clinging dumb and
| awe-struck to her skirts. The boy had
| been stolen.
Only those that clasp their own babies
md IF hat ell 4
| lngs In some such dreadful unknown,
can realize the agony that night and day
brought to those parents for weeks and
months. 1t is idle to tell of that grief,
of the efforts that were made, of the for
| tune that was spent, of the uselessness
of 1t all. The picture of the little head
on its pillow that last night hung con-
stantly before the mothers eyes; all his
charming little sayings were in her mind ),
she could see him tearing up bits of pa
per as he leaned out of the window, and,
as each one softly fioated away, repeat
| ing the lines about the death-sOng of the
swan-"Fwoating down by he'se'f to
dle;" she remembered the absorbed way
in which he would look up, declaring,
TT buZhy now" the insouciance with
| which, when she demonstrated upon his
naughtiness, he babe her to take it
eazhy;" his '.volerble papers - in short,
all the things in which he had been just
one trif1e more charming than the other
children-the other children who would
not put one of that child's playthings out
of sight, and would not even suffer the
little uncouth characters upon the black
board to be wiped out.
But one year followed another, and an
other, and another followed that and al
though Mr.. Dean had agents everywhere
throughout the country, and was con-
stantly on the alert himself, no word
came of his little son. Yet anything
seemed better than that he should be
growing up in the hands of those vile
enough to abduct him. No reason for
the stealing had ever appeared; no mes
sage or messenger from the wretches had
ever made any overture to the father for
a ransom. They began to hope that the
dear child had died. Sometimes his
mother feared that she could nolonger
control her reason her health was break
| ing down; and she could hardly allow
the other children out of her sight She
knew we'll that it would be better for her
if she could go out among people; if she
could visit the poor: if she could lose
her own sorrows in trying to assuage
those of others. But it seemed to her
that sight of the trouble of others would
but aggravate her own trouble. Nor had
she anything to give in charity; she felt
that every dollar must be saved for spend
/ ing in the search for her little one; she
was ready and eager to sell her great
white diamonds, each one of which was
a small fortune, and all the family plate,
the accumulation of generations, that had
used to delight the children with its
| great ringing vibrations before the but
| Ter put it away after any more stately
| banquet than usual. That she would have
parted with everything and gone to live
/ in garnet at hard labor, there is no need
of saying, if that would have given her
back her boy again. She knew what it
was to live in a garnet, too, for in the be-
/ ginning she had gone with her husband
and certain members of police through
scores and scores of garrets and cellars
in the black heart of the city. Only one
| of them ALL though, she remembered in
/ particular, it had made her shudder so:
there was an old crone with sinister
laugh, smoking the stump of pipe
there; there were some children asleep
in huddle of rags on the floor; the off,
GERS had shaken them, one and all, but
| they were none of hers. The place was
not more filthy and squalid, not more
/ lOathsome to the senses and oppressive
| to the soul, than others she had seen; but
/ it seemed to make her heart stand still
as she entered, and she had not spoken a
dozen words with the old nag before she
tainted. And after that her husband was
reluctant to have her continue such Wis
/ its.
But the visit made, perhaps, no more
| impression on her than it made ON the
jewellers of that den. The day 1.-The pref
ty lady came with the cop'' was day in
| the calender of those children, who,
doubtless, were all thieves after their
kind. They remembered it, perhaps, the
more particularly, too, because, when
the callers had been gone little while,
old Hannah, the crone aforesaid, knock
ed the ashes out of her pipe, lifted the
loose board in the floor, and took Sam
| out of his bed there-a bed IN which
most of them had slept, and to which
| fresh air came from a chimney flue; and
then there had been a smothered outcry,
for it looked as though Sam was dead
But it turned out that Sam was alive, at
ter all; he was only sleeping sounder
than usual. He slept almost all the time,
as they used to wish they might, instead of
being sent out on their beats--a dark little
creature, with closely shaved head, and
with a vacant stare in his stupid eyes
whenever he opened them. Sam had
been whipped two or three times by old
Hannah because he didn't answer to his
name when he was awake. He answer
/ ed to il now But, on the whole they