The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1880-12-23

cried over MIN, t0lnklng, no 0OuDt, OF
her own little ones and their loneliness
At this happy Christmas time.
CHAPTER II. >
POOR BERTHE.
If Kitty had not been the very best
little mare that ever drew a wagon be.
hind her, she never would have got to
Thornly station. 1t had given up snow
ing and the sun az shining little. So,
as we thought there would be room
enough, coming back, I was tempted to
brave the weather and 90 down with
Sam to meet the train.
For thirty years there had been no
such snow.storm known in this part IF
the country. As We drove along-if
should not rather call it plow,ng-the
corn rlcks showed like SO many tumuli.
Even the highest hedgerows could only
be traced as long, sharp ridges, for the
snow HAD drifted against them till all
was buried save here and there a tree.
There was mile Of common land, newly
enclosed, which we had to cross, and
here where all was level, and the fences
were low, it was simply one great
stretch Of white, where to keep the road
was no easy matter.
Thanks mainly to the necessity of run
ming extra trains at Christmas time, our
branch line had with great difficulty
been kept open. The trains were run
ming, and the train for which we had TO
wait was not more than a quarter OF an
hour late.
Long before we saw them we could
hear our young folks. They were chat:
6ng the station master, advising him to
$50 to Jerlcho,' to stump up and to 10
other things which certainly form no part
OF station masters ordinary duties.
Driving home was hardly any easier
a task than driving out had been. For
though we certainly had our own track
to drive back upon there was the added
weight of five new passengers, which
even to Kitty was no joke OF such day
as this. The boys, however, declared It
splendid, and the more likelihood there
was Of our sticking fast, the more splen-
did they declared 1t, the more glad they
were to jump out behind, and, under
pretcnce Of pushing the wagon, roll each
other in the snow, and put snow balls
down each Others backs. On our way
home we met two or three other vehicles,
and at all cross roads could see that
heavy as had been the snow, it had not
been heavy enough to keep people in.
doors who had the excuses of hospitality
for going out.
Home at last, Just rs the shades OF
night were falling rapidly, and Just as
the freight began to redden tho windo "
panes. Then the hustle of hand shaking,
kissing, uncoat,ng, and tinger-warming
Then the first general inquiries about
school, and lessons, and prizes, about
skating and sliding. about home and
home friends. All these things were
over, and the lads were sitting or stand.
ing round the fire, while Helen and !
wore busy with our decorations, twisting
wreaths Of holly round the pictures and
mirrors, and pr.cking our fingers till
they bled in doing so. Suddenly Frank
called out to Helen: "But, aunt, where's
Bertie-I have not seen him?''
ooh, he's asleep" said Helen; "youll
see him and hear him too land by
Then, as if reminded by this, she left he,
holly-wreaths and ran upstairs to see il
ali the recent noise had not walked him
In minute she was down again, and
said: "He's not in his cot; some of them
have got him in the kitchen; RIM, Frank
ard fetch him.
Soon Frank was back again, and back
without the baby. Then the methe,
began to run about the house searching
and to grow uneasy. One Of the maids,
however, had been sent some half-hou1
ago to neighbours, and was expected
back directly. It was presumed, though
no one had seen her take him. that sh<
had the baby with her. In few minutes
she came inland knew nothing Of baby
Berthe.
Bnby BERTHE was eighteen months old
and had Just discontinued crawling and
taken to walking. His little feet were
for ever pattering from room to room
His little hands were for ever laying
hold Of friendly skirts and coat-1ails
His little legs were forever carrying him
slowly up stairs and tumbling him down
again, with much greater rapidity. Der.
tie, in short, had Just got to that age that
when in sight he was in overy5ody's way,
aud when out OF sight he was cause oil
constant terror lest he should come to
mischief. 1t was only when he was
asleep that he was considered safe, and
that his nurse-maid dared to turn her
eyes from him. And now he had effect
ually gwen her and all of us the slip.
At first, Of course, We all of US, except
Helen, made light Of the missing baby,
being sure enough that he would he
found in some ridicu'ously safe corner.
It is large house, with many a spare
room and closet in which child could
hide, and it took us some time to look
through them all. But through them all
we looked not once, nor twice, but many
times, without finding a trace of him.
Then through the barns, the cow-houses,
the stables, the very pig sites, and every
out-ofticc OF the place we went with
lanterns and candles. seeking BERTHE and
finding him not, calling BERTHE and
getting no answer.
Then we set ourselves to search out
side the gates, holding our lanterns care
fully to the ground, and all at once in
the deep clean snow we saw the print of
little feet amongst larger feet: Away
down the road we followed them, ALWAYS
tracing them easily amongst mems feet
and horses feet tor full two hundred
yards away from the house. There VIC
found the mark OF where our little man
had set himself down to rest, and there,
alas! we found one Of his little boots,
with a sock in it, and from that point
forward could trace the little footprints
still, the mark of the boot and the mark
Of the wee naked toes now side by side.
Some fifty yards or so, however, from
where we found the boot there were signs
Of his having wandered from the road in.
to the deep snow; there were signs of
trampling there by other feet, and there
all trace was lost. Not another footmark
could we find beyond this point, nor any
footmark that indicated that he had turn:
ed to 60 home again. It was clear that
our little man had first wandered out
side the gate, had been at once confused
by the snow, and lost his way; had wan
dered on and On, further away from home
I'VE fancied how the poor little thing