Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-09-28
FOUND ON THE TRACK.

FOUND ON THE TRACK.
Wet and dreary. 1t is midwlnter the
scene in Kirlington, on the London and
Northwestern; the time 1916; just after
the night mail has flashed through with
out stopping, bound for Liverpool and
the North. The railway officials points
men, signalmen, porters, platelayers-are
collecting preparatory to going off duty
for the night.
"Where's Dan!' asks one of the crowd
upon the platform.
II saw him in the hut Just after the
1O.45 went through. Can't have come tc
any harm surely"
mo; he sal d he'd seen something dror
from the train, and he went down the
line to pick it up"
And Dan had picked up something. II
was a baSket-a common white wicker
basket-wlth lid fastened down with g
string. What did it contain? Refresh.
ments? Dirty clothes? What?
A baby! child half dozen weeks
old, no more; pink and white piece OF
human china as fragile as Dresden and as
delicately fashioned and tinted as biscuit
or Rose Pompadour.
''Where did you come across it, asked
one.
Lying on the line, just where it fell
Perhaps it did not fall perhaps it was
chucked out. What matter2 I've got il
and got to look after it; that's enough fol
me. Some day maybe Ill come across
them as owns it; and then they shall pay
me and take it back"
els there nothing about him? Turn
him over"
The little mites linen was white and
of fine material, but he lay upon an old
shawl and a few bits of dirty flannel.
All they found was a dilapidated purse
"a common snaplock bag-purse of faded
brown leather Inside was a brass thin
BILE, pawn ticket and the halt of Bank
Of England note for e10O.
"What goods half bank note to
you9"
"Half loat's better than no bread"
eyes; you can cat one, but you can't
pass the other. Won't you catch it from
your wife, How'll you face her, Dan7
What II she say!'
"she'll say done quite right replied
Dan, stoutly. "Shes a good sort, God
bless her"
$50 are you, Dam that's fact. GOD
bless you, too" Said more than one
rough voice in softened accents. "Per-
haps the child'll bring you luck after
all"
Winter-tide again six years later, but
this season IS wet and slushy- Once
more we are at Kirklington, q long stray
Cling village, which might have slumber-
ed on in obscurity forever had not the
Northwestern line been carried close by
1t, to give 1t aplace in Bradshaw and a
certain Importance as q junction and cen.
ter for goods traffic. But the activity
was all about the station. All the per-
manent officials had houses and cottages
there in the village lived only the field
laborers who worked at the neighboring
estate, or sometimes lent their hand for
job OF navvying on the line. These
poor folk had gruesome life of it, a
hard hand-to-muuth struggle for bare ex-
1stencc against perpetual privation. ac-
companied by uuremittn, toll.
"A new parson-- Harold Treffry-had
come lately to kirkiington. He was an
ernest, energetic young man, who had
won his spurs in the East End parish,
and had now accepted this country liv-
ing because it seemed to open up a new
field OF usefulness. He had plunged
bravely into the midst of his work: he
was forever going up and down among
his pensioners, solacing and comforting.
preaching manful endurance and trust +.
fitness to all.
He is now paying round of parochial
visits, accompanied by an old college
chum, who is spending some days with
him.
"Yonder," said Treffy, pointing to a
thin thread Of smoke which rose from
gaunt trees into the sullen wintrv air.
'yonder is the house-if, indeed, it de-
serves so grand name-the hovel, rather,
of one whose case is the hardest of all the
hard ones in my unhappy cure. This
man is mere hedger and ditcher, one
who works for any master, most often
Tor the railway, but who is never certain
of job all the year round. He has a
swarm OF young children, and he has lust
lost his wife. He IS absolutely prostrat-
ed; aghast, probably at the future before
MIN and his utter incapacity to do his
duty by his motherless little ones. Jack!"
said the parson, stopping short suddenly,
and looking straight into his companions
face, II wonder whether you could rouse
hims If you could only get him to make
a sign; to cry or laugh or take the small
est interest in common affairs Jack, I
believe you're the very man. You might
get atlhim through the children9-that
marvellous hanky-panky of yours, those
surprising tricks; child takes to you
naturally at once. Try and make friends
with these. Perhaps, when the father
sees them interested and amused, he may
warm little, speak, perhaps, approve,
perhaps smile, in the end give in. Jnck,
will you try2''
Jack Newbiggin was by profession