The Brookhaven ledger. (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1875-1883, 1881-12-08

| 1uouSu IL Has ld Dccu picdStHS u
Providence to give the creature the
gift q speech, can do mony mail
things than them wad deride it,
4 amt deridin' of 'em, says John.
4 only say as how if they be so very
clever, I've never seen it,
'Ye wull, though, We wull, says
old Donald, as he hurries after Lad
die, who has now settled down to a
swinging trot, and is taking his way
straight across the lonliest part OF
the bleak moor.
The cold wind almost cuts us in
two, and whirls the snow into our
faces, nearly binding us. My fin
ger-tips are becoming numbed, ici-
cles hanging from my moustache
and beard, and my feet and legs are
soaking wet, even through my shoot
ing boots and stout leather leg
gings.
The moon has gone in again, and
the light from the lantern we carry
is barely sufficient to show us the
inequalities in the height Of the
snow by which we are guessing at
our path. begin to wish I had
stayed at home. L'homme propose,
mais Ia femme dispose sigh to
myself, and l begin to consider
whether I may venture to give up
the search (which | have underta-
ken purely to satisfy my wife, for I
am like John, and don't believe in
Laddle), when. suddenly, l hear a
shout in front Of me, and see Don
aid, who has all the time been keep
ing close to Laddie, drop on his
knees, and begin digging wildly in
the snow with his hands. We all
rush forward. Laddie has stopped
at what appears to be the foot of a
stunted tree. and, after scratching
and whining for moment, sits
down and watches, leaving the bal
ance to us. What is it that appears
when we have shovelled away the
snow? A dark object. Is it a bun
die of rags? Is it-or, alas. was it
"a human being? We raise it
carefully and tenderly. and wrap it
in one of the warm blankets with
which my wife's forethought had
provided us.
Bring me the lantern | say hus-
kily, and John holds it over the
PROSTATE form of, not as we might
have expected, some stalwart shep-
herd of the hills, but over that of a
poor, shrivelled, wrinkled, ragged
old woman. try to pour a little
brandy down the poor old throat,
but the teeth are so firmly clinched
that | cannot.
Get her home as quickly as may
be, sir; the mistress will know bet
ter what to do for her nor we do, if
so be the poor creature is not past
help says John, turning indistinct-
lively, as we all do in sickness or
trouble, to woman's aid.
So we improvise sort of ham
mock of the blankets, and gently
and tenderly the men prepare to
carry their poor, helpless burden
over the snow.
Il am afraid your mistress will be
in bed,' say, az we begin to re-
trace our steps.
Never fear, sir says Donald, with
triumphant glance at John; the
mistress will be up and waiting for
us. She ken Laddie dinna bring lis
out in the snaw for naething.'
I'll never say naught about be-
lieving a dog again. says John,
gracefully striking his colors. You
were right and l was wrong but to
think there should be such sense in
an animal passes me-.
AS we reach the avenue gate l
dispatched one of the men for the
doctor, who fortunately lives with
in a stones throw of us, and hurry
on myself to prepare my wife for
what is coming. She runs out into
the hall to meet me.
sWell?' she asks eagerly.
we have found a poor old wo-
man. l say; but do not know
whether she is alive or dead
My wife throws her arms around
me and gives me great hug.
You will find dry things and
Jug of hot toddy in your dressing
room, DEAR she says; and this Is
the revenge she takes on me for my
scepticism. The poor old woman is
carried up stairs and placed in a
warm bath under my wife's direc-
ton; and before the doctor arrives
she has shown some faint symp-
toms of life; so my wife sends me
word. DR.. Bruce shakes his head
when he sees her. Poor old SOUL
lie says. show came she out on such
fearful night? l doubt she has
received shock which, at her age,
she will not easily get over
They manage, however, to force
few spoonfuls of hot brandy and
water down her throat, and present
ly faint color flickers on her check,
and the poor old eyelids begin to
tremble. My wife raises her head
aud makes her swallow some cor
dial which DR.. Bruce has brought
with him, and lays her back among
the soft, warm pillows.
4 think she will rally now,' says
DR.. Bruce, as her breathing becomes
more regular and audible. 'Nour-
ishment and warmth will do the
rest; but she has received a shock
flom which, | fear, she will never
recover And so saying. he takes
his leave.
By-and-by l go up to the room,
and find my wife watching alone by
the aged sufferer. She looks up at
me with tears in her eyes. Poor
old SOUL she says, I am afraid she
will not rally from the cold and ex-
posure.
l 90 round to the other side of
the bed and look down upon her.
The aged face looks wan and
pinched, and the scanty gray locks
which lie on the pillow are still wet
tom the snow. She is a very little
woman, as far as can judge of her
in her recumbent position, and /
should think must have reached her
allotted threescore years and ten. .
Who can she be?' l repeat, won
deringly. She does not belong to
any Of the villages Lereabouts, or
we should know her face, and / can
not ;mouina what oon1d hrinn a