Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1882-12-05

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been il had not seen smile haunting
the face Of my listener across the aisle
whatever the reason, the baby's sphinx
like calmness never altered.
81 shall be rid Of you" | thought, Gin
q few minutes more;" but had counted
without my host. When l left the car
my listener helped me to the platform as
usual, without any sign Of consciousness
that he had ever done it before. The
Quakeress followed close after me. In
spite Of her extreme carefulness she
caught her foot in the step and fell to
the ground; but with the instinct Of mo-
ther love, the same all the world over.
she managed to lay the baby softly down
beside her without injury.
took up the baby, awkwardly enough
no doubt, while my listener lifted the mo.
iher, but with a moan she sank down
again and tainted away.
, The Quakeress had been the last to
leave the car, and the crowd as well as
conductor had gone about their business.
My listener and were left alone to face
thi. development Of affairs.
Tell me what to do. and Ill do it,
said my listener, desperately, as he cleared
the poor woman's hands.
I" Do you think YOU could carry her to
the waiiing-room: We can do better
with her there"
He took her easily in his arms, and |
led the way, with the travelling bags and
baby to the ladies room, where she was
laid, still unconscious, on a ssttee.
He went in search Of water. and /
made nest Of shawls for the baby to lie
in, while gave nv strength to reviving
the mother; but even Quaker composure
must give way at last to total depravity.
and she went off into such 4 passion Of
crying and holding her breath that | con-
sidered fit imminent, and took courage
to say to my listener, when he returned
with the water:
"If you would hold the baby for
little while"
"The Fates forbid" he said, holding
up his hands in whimsical dismay; Il
never held baby in my life."
Neither did |, but have seen others
do it,"
"You must show me just what to do,
then"
There" said |, arranging the babys
robes over his arms; "be sure to keep
her head higher than her feet Now
carry her about and drum on the window,
and if everything else fails, lie, her look
at your watch"
He performed all my behests to the
letter; but the baby, as If to make up
for its long silence, would not be paci6ed
on any terms. | bathed the mothers
face, and soon had the pleasure Of seeing
her color return and her eyes open.
Don't thee be alarmed for me, she
said in a sweet voice 81 often faint
She held out her arms to the baby,
who Immediately put on her Quaker qui-
etness again as if it was mask; but
when the woman tried to rise she sank
back with a groap, and it became evil
dent that she had somehow injured her
foot. The least motion was agony to
her. So there was nothing for it but
for me to take the baby again while my
listener should 90 for the doctor.
The clock indicated only half an hour
before he returned; but | have known
whole weeks that seemed shorter.
The mother did not suffer much when
perfectly quietly, and l walked weary
round with that memorable baby, who
could not have cried more bitterly if !
had inflicted upon her all the personah-
ties which her ancestors suffered at the
hands of the Puritans.
The doctor found no bones broken, but
the ankle was badly sprained. He ap-
piled some soothing lotion, using all ouI
handkerchiefs for the purpose; and wa:
not so busy with my young tyrant but
what saw my listener furtively look al
the corner of my handkerchief. He wal
none the wiser however, for the only
mark was just two letters in German
text in such fligree embroidery as woulc
have defied any linguist to decipher them
The doctor could spare but few min
utes to his patient, and advised our call
: ing a carriage for her. She was on he
WY to visit her mother, who lived in
, suburb. three or four miles out.
1t appeared that my listener had en-
/. gagged carriage where he went after tn
, water, showing thoughtfulness in hi
j character which greatly increased my re
T spect.
$ He carried the Quakeress to the car