Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1881-04-14
From The New York Independent.
AN APRIL FOOL.
BY ROSE TERRY COOKE.

I -
| BY ROSE TERRY COOKE.
"Thatr said Squire Horton, with
something like an oath. Don't tell me 2"
By George, Doctor! Haw hawI hawl 1
clean forgot twas the first OF April"
Doctor Packard's brown face redeemed
up to the roots Of his grizzled hair.
II tell you it's aboyp he thundered.
"Haw hdw! haw! Keep it up. Doctor.
You don't fool mep'
well, the Lord did get ahead of me
then," sharply answered the Doctor. 81
can't say it any palmer than have. Ii
you don't believe me, try your own ears
He opened the parlor door wide, and
across the hall there came from the low
er bedroom an unmiStakable baby-cry
Squire Horton listened, and his face
changed. He was convinced and con-
| founded at once. He had been married
| fifteen years. His first and only child
had laid this twelve years in Bedford
graveyard, and he had long ceased to
hope for another. He had come home
from California only last night, and
found his wife i'll enough to keep Eer
bed; but making light of the matter and
declaring she should be better in the
morning He had been gone since the
first of September, on business which
had delay ed, and delayed him, till here
it was the first Of April to-day; and hav-
ing slept soandly in the spare chamber,
he was quite unaware of any unusual
stir Ill the house. Coming down rather
Hate, he met Doctor Packard, at the door
of his wife's bedroom, and had been car
ried off at once to the parlor, where the
Doctor announced the arrival, which
was received with natural incredulity.
But when the fact was accredited and
established, when the Squire had actu-
ally kissed his wife, and had poFed his
big finger into the red and wrinkled face
of this queer, old tiny baby, he was
nightly tickled, and had to be sudden
ly whirled out of the door by Mann Pet
tigrew, who reigned supreme at present,
and wasn't gOin' to have men-folks
round, maxim her nervous" Mrs. Hor
ton was pleased, too. Pleased, l say
She was in rapture that l don't know
anything about, and, therefore, leave un-
described; but, if ever any one in this
world knew the full measure of earthly
felicity, she did, in this fulilment of her
one wish and prayer. 1t would have
made wise man laugh to hear
the fancies that ran through her weak,
feminine brain, as she lay there in the
shaded and silent room, her reverie
rather helped than hindered by the soft
purr and occasional snap of the
w0od-6re, or the gentle stir of
Nurse Pettigrew's calico gown and
prunella slippers. There was a
soothing smell of milk porridge, cam
phor, and catnip tea in the air, and now
and then the little creature in that
blanket gave short sob; but Ma'am
Pettigrew assured her that was nothing
alarming, so she dreamed Oh, wide
awake as she was. and long before that
old clock in the hail had licked off the
first twelve hours of baby's new life he
had been lin his mothers Yision) educa-
ted, gone into the ministry, become a
successful preacher, married lovely
and wealthy girl, and had been made
the happy parent of various children,
whose stockings she herself Was mend
ing, in her ninety-third year, when she
really fell asleep. Poor April fool Mrs.
Horton was no longer young woman
when this baby was born, and she was
the Squire's third wife. lie had lost his
first on their weddipg-day, from an ac-
cident happening to the carriage which
was carrying them home from the
church. He himself lay at the point of
death for months, from conclusion of
the brain; but she was killed instantly.
When, at last, he fully recovered, he
married woman of much force of
nh. for nd WI hn nnnnr-
ed him for the sake of home, but new
er loved him. He, however, supposed
himself deeply in love with Marian,
though, in truth. he loved nothing deep
ly but himself; and when she died, after
public show of incOnsolable and une-
qualed grief, he consoled himself, long
before the first year of bereavement
ended, by making love to Madeline An
drews, gentle, patient, sweet little girl,
who loved him as much as he loved HIM
self, and made him quite happy at the
birth of his first son. But that child
died at two years old; and then came a
sort of desert IN life to the little wo-
man, who had found out that her hold
on her husband had slipped away, and
who began to see him, at last, as he was
selfish, underbred, sensual, and ill
tempered. She was thirty-six now; yet
she felt as if her life had begun over
again; as if all the joy she had missed
in the past had only been saved for to-
day; and, being thoroughly religious
woman, her happiness was carried
straight to God, in the shape of feryent
gratitude and renewed conservation.
Little Alfred Horton passed from the
disagreeable redness of ba6yism into a
fair, gentle, delicate child, with his
mothers great gray eyes and soft, light
hair. The Squire would have liked it
better if he had looked like the Horizons
or been like them; but, instead Of inher-
iting the coarse features, straight brows.
and loose lips of his father, he had the
wistful face of girl-delicate, sensitive,
and timid-and for the rssolute will,
domineering temper, aud tyrsnnicsl sell
fishness of the Squire he has the yield
ing, placid, crsdulous nature of his moth
er, and SORT of dullness Of apprehen-
sion, that caused DR.. Packard to fear he