The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1882-01-12
DOLLY
A Western DrOyer's Story.

My name is Anthony Hunt. am q
drover, and live miles and miles away upon
the western prairie. There wasn't house
within sight when we moved there, my
wife and I, and now we haven't many
neighbors, though those We have are good
ones.
One day, about ten years ago, went
away from home to sell some fifty head of
cattle--hne creatures as I ever saw. was
to buy some groceries and dry goods be-
fore come back, and, above all, a doll for
orr Youngest Dolly; she had never had a
store doll of her own-only the rag babies
her mother had made her.
Dolly could talk nothing else, and went
down to the very gate to call after me to
buy big one. Nobody but parent can
understand how full my mind was of that
toy, and how, when the cattle were sold,
the first thing I buried off to buy Dolly's
Doll. [ found large one, with eyes that
would open and shut when you pulled q
wire. and had it wrapped up in paper, and
tucked it under my arm, while / had the
parcels Of calico and delaine and tea and
sugar put up. Then, late as; was, I start
ed for home. It might have been more
prudent TO stay until morning, but I felt
anxious to get back, and eager to hear
Dolly's praise about her doll.
was mounted Oh steady going old
horse of mine: and pretty we'll loaded.
Night set in before 1 was mile from town,
and settled down dark as pitch while was
know Of. could have felt my way, though,
I remembered it SO we'll; and was almost,
when the storm that had been brewing broke
and pelted the rain in torrents, five miles,
or may be six, from home yet, too.
rode on as fast as could, but all of q
sudden heard little cry like child's
voice! I stopped short and Estened-I
heard it again. I called and it answered
me. couldn't see thing; all was dark as
pitch. I got down and felt about in the
grass-called again ana again was an
swered. Then began to wonder. I'm
not timid, but was known to be drover
and to have money about me. 1t might be
trap to catch me- unawares and rob and
murder lne.
I am uot superstitiors---no very; but how
could real child be out in the prairies in
such a night, at such an hour? Itmight be
more than human.
The bit of coward that hides itself in
most men showed itself to mo then, aud I
was half inclined to run away. but once
caore heard that cry, and said I:
If any mans child is hereabouts, An
5hony Hunt is not the man to let it die"
searched again. At last bethought me
Of hollow under the hill, and CROPPED
that way. Sure enough 1 found little
dripping thing, that moaned and sobbed as
took it i'll my arms. I called my horse,
and the beast came to me, and mounted,
and tucked the little soaked thing under
my coat as we'll as I could, promising to
take it home to nanny. It seemed tired
to death. and pretty soon cried itself to
sleep against my bosom.
It had slept there over an hour when
saw my own windows. There were lights
in them, and supposed my wife had lit
them for my sake; but when got into the
door-yard saw something was the matter,
and stood still with dead fear of heart
five minutes before could lift the latch.
At last I did it, and saw the room full of
neighbors, and my wife amid them weeping.
When she saw me she hid her face.
"Oh, don't tell him." she said. ut will
kill him."
. wi is it! neighbors?" cried.
Nothing now, 1 hope---what's that in
your arms?"
"A poor lost child" said 1. II found it
on the road. Take it, will you. I've
turned faint" And + lifted the sleeping
thing and saw the face of my own child,
my little Dolly.
It was my darling, and none other, that
had picked up upon the drenched road.
My little child had wandered out to meet
"daday and the doll, while her mother was
at work, and whom they were lamenting as
one dead. thanked Heaven on my knees
before them all. It is not much of story,
neighbors, but think of it often in the
nights, and wonder how could bear to live
now If had not stopped when I heard the
cry for help upon the road, the little baby,
hardly louder than a squirrels chirp.
That's Dolly yonder with her mother IL.
the meadow, girl worth saving-I thin
Out then I'm her father, and partial
maybe)-the :prettiest and sweetest thins
this side of the Mississippi.