The Dillon tribune., 1881-07-02

ware toward u Win OeSpaJSluS SCSSutC
speaking with low, wild, rapid utter
ance.
ut was not his look that killed It, bu
my love. lie hated It, my baby. my first
born; for all the love gave him, he hate'
It; and that his look might not kill it,
held It IN my arms 90 eso.e, 10 closc, til
it was dead. Oh my baby, my baby!
The outstretched hands had reached
now, and raised Il from. the floor to ttie sea
folding II around until the enclosing arm
and the down.bent face hid It once NOR
out Of sight
Was ever ltckiess traveller more awk
wardly placed'-the dead child the pros
trate woman; the scene. a public railwa,
carriage; the hour, midnight. l am Of I
blunt nature. Mrs. Merton often scold
me for my blunt, straightfor ward speeches
but then she has such pretty way Of beat
ing about the bush, which It would be a
absurd for me to initiate as Il was for tht
ass te mimic the tricks Of his masters lap
fdog. = must gesstraiytis, IA the point as
soon as ever see It. did 40 now.
allow come you to be travelling alone
and with dead ctild?" Are you going
homer"
The question seemed to arouse her once
more to- a perfect frenzy Of fear. She
turned to me as before, clinging to my
hand with small hot fingers and the old
hcartbroken cry;
Don't bctray me; don't give me up to
him! His look would have killed my baby
Il would kin me Il had to meet il. She Is
safe, for I killed her, and she Is dead; and
|he hates me, and / hevs 40 home-no
homer
was In perfect maze Of doubt Could
the pretty soft young creature at ny feet
be indeed murdercsss and could It be her
husband Of whom she seemed in such ab-
jeot terrors My blood boiled; felt ready
to defend her against dozen husbands;
but how?
It was midnight now We could not be far
from London; the guard might be popping
his head IN At any moment. jumped to a
sudden conclusion.
"Were you going to any friend in Lon.
donlr.
II know nobody in London"
"1he poor little thing is either mad or
her husband is a brute," was my mental cx.
cla.nation.
"Then yon must come home with me to
my wifs; She will see after you."
|. Ansupward glance OF wild agonized sup.
plication:
"She won't betray me .or-take baby
from me?" And once more the wee dead
thing was lifted up into the arms that
seemed almost too trail to hold It, and hid.
den away beneath the long mourning cape.
! took her home. Mary received her
with broad look of amaze that made nc
smile, but that found no expression in
words. When, taking her aside, told her
all l knew, she wrung her hands In sheer
sym2athixi,s pity.
Murdered her own baby-hcr frstborn
Oh, how sad, how tircadful!" Aud involun.
tarily she glanced toward the door that hid
from us our own littl. ones, safely Graded
and asleep. Then she went hack to oul
strange guest, who sat huddled up in my
own big easy chair, the dead baby still al
her bosom. a-~s
u must get her to bed" said Mary, witt
quick determined nod and she really die
contrive to do 20 by soft, tender, cooling
| words, and solumn assurances Of safety
for herself and baby whom she kissed ane
cried over, and considered as she nigh
some living object Of solicitude, much tc
the little mothers comfort.
"And you woa't betray me; and h
won't come and take her from me, or hur
us with his angry look! Oh, dear, how ',ic'
It Is to lie downl am ~ tired and baby 1
20 cold; but think can sleep now littl'
and-forgctv'
She was half asleep already; the hcav,
lids had dropped downward upon the littl
downy head that lay against her bosom.
i "ller husband must be sent for" sai'
rcso!utely when we found ourselves ono
more alone; and glanced at an cnvelop
had taken from the strangers pocket:
! Mus. TREMAlNE,
i Grantle,y Lodge, :.
i Grantlcy.
Mary stared ut the aghast.
, "ller husband, who hates her, and woul
have killed her baby! Oh, John, you woul
not be 50 cruel! She seems SO frightcne
: Of him, poor little thing! You may be SUI
he is some horrid. wicked tyrant. And
. he really killed her baby-Oh, dear, no
/ sad II is! Whatever will become Of herr"
"But, my dear, Il she has a husband .
friends we must restore her to then
Why, she Is little more than child! l,
), very strange, very. and sad: but the my
I terry must be cleared, and the baby buried
: Mary still pronounced me cruel ana "
I feeling beyond anything she could ha,
D conceived.
= "Of course her husband is a madn,a,
*ho will murder her as soon as he X
p her into his hands. You know, John, tn
husbands are always numbering til.
!. wives"
h "Aliddlc. aged wives, dear whose lives a
heavily insured shall telegraph
!. once"
a =