Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1881-06-30
TOM

| Oh! but 1t was cold, freezing biting,
bitter cold, and dark, too; for the feeble
gaslights, leaping and flaming as the
gale whistled by, hardly lightened the
gloom dozen PAGES around them. The
wind tore through the streets as if it
had gone mad; whirling before it dust
and snow and every movable thing il
could lay its clutching hand upon. A
poor old battered kite that some time
last autumn had lodged far up in the
tallest tree in the neighborhood and
had there rested peacefully ever since,
believing its labors at an end, was
dragged from its nest and driven I'M
| pltyingly before the blast Some feeble
efforts it had made to lodge in corners,
lurking behind steps and driving into
areas; but not bit of it! Down would
swoOp the wind and off it would 90
again.
At last, driven around one Of the
long row of barrels that stood like
wretched sentinels along the edge of
the sidewalk, it flew into the very arms
OF small boy, who, seated on the curb
stone crouched down in the barrels
somewhat questional shelter. Such a
ing in the world but a little heap of
rags; and the rags were very thin, and
| the small boy was cold. His nose, his
ears, his hands and his poor bare feet
were blue. He was almost too cold to
| notice the unfortunate kite which, as
its enemy, the wind, approached with
a roar, seemed to cover close to him,
as If begging his protection. Round
| both sides of the barrel at once, came
the wind, shook hands right through
poor Tom, and, bowling with delight,
rushed Oft with its miserable victim.
"IOm"-that was all the name he
had. Who he was, and where he came
from: no one knew, except, perhaps,
the wretched old woman with whom
he lived; which meant that she let him
sleep upon a pile of rags on the floor Of
her miserable room, and som etim es
gave him crust, but Oftener a blow
When she was drunk-and that was
the greater part of the time-Tom took
to the streets; and to night she was
very drunk. The boy was, perhaps,
some six years old; but as he covered
down on the cold fagstones. with his
worn, pinched face and dropping head,
he might have been a hundred.
A carriage came rattling through the
street and stopped close by him. The
door was pushed open and two children
half tumbled out, and leaving the door
swinging rushed up the steps. Tom
watched them stupidity, heard the
quick, sharp ring of the bell, caught a
glimpse of something that looked very
bright and warm, and then it was dark
again. He turned his eyes toward the
carriage, expecting it to drive off again;
but it still stood there. The coachman
sat upon the box like a furry monu-
ment. One of the horses struck the
stones sharply with his iron hoof, and
cast an inquiring look around, but the
monument sat unmOved.
Toms heavy eyes looked through the
open door into the carriage. Dark as
it was, he could see that it was lined
with something thick and warm. He
raised his head and glanced about him.
If he were inside there the wind could
not touch him. Oh, if he could only
get away from it one minute He
would slip out again the moment the
house door would open. Unbending
his stiff little body he crept nearer,
hesltated moment, and as the wind
came round the corner with a roar,
slipped swiftly and noiselessly into the
carriage. In the further corner of the
seat he curled himself into a little
round heap and lay, with beating
heart, listening to the wind as it swept
by.
1t was very quiet in his nest, and the
soft velvet was much warmer than the
cold tiagstones, and he was very tired
very cold, and in half minute he was
fast asleep. He did not know when at
last the house-door opened and lady, /
gathering her cloak around her came |
down the steps-did not know when the |
suddenly-animated monument descend |
ed from its pedestal, and stood solemly |
by the open door until the lady stepped |
inside. But when it shut with slam, |
and the cOachman, returning to his |
post, drove rapidly away, his eyes op-
ened and fixed their frightened gaze up
on the lady's face. Preoccupied with |
her own thoughts she had not noticed |
the qeeer bundle in the dark corner. |
But now, her attention attracted by |
some slight movement on his part, she !
turned her eyes slowly toward him, |
and then, with a suppressed cry of |
alarm and surprise, laid her hand up
on the door. The rattle of wheels and the |
roar of the wind prevented It reaching
the ears of the coachman; and Tom,
rapidly unwinding himself and COVER |
ing down in the bottom of the carriage,
said, in frightened sob:
Il didn't mean no harm. was aw-
ful cold. Say, just open the door, miss,
and I'll jump out. You needn't stop
he kerridge."
The lady, with her hand still on the
door, demanded:
"How did you get here"
"The door was open and I clum," he
at was awful cold"
The lady took her hand away from
The door. Come nearer" she said,
'let me see your face"
Tom drew his ragged sleeve across
MS eyes and looked up at her over his
shoulder. They had turned into bril-
lantly-hghted street, and she could see
that the tangled yellow hair was soft
and fine, and that the big frightened
eyes that raised themselves to hers
we're not pick-pocket's eyes. With a
sudden impulse she laid her gloved
hand on the yellow head.
where do you ive?" she asked.
Something in the voice and touch
gave him courage.
''With Nanny SAL" he answered,
uD-'Ema and some other