The Evening critic., 1882-01-04
DOLLY.
4 Western Drover's stnry.

y Western urOver'S Sturv.
My name is Anthony Hunt. ! avn
drovcr and live miles and miles away upon
the Western prairie. There wasn't house
within sight when ] moved there, my wife
and ], aud now wc haven't many uoigh.
bors, though those we have are good ones.
Ono day, about ten years ago, I went
away from homo to sell some fifty head of
'aitlC--liuc creatures aus ever SAW. / was
Is buy some groceries aud dry goods before
! came back, and, above all, q doll for onr
youuges; Dolly; she had never had q store
doll Of her own-only the rag babies her
mother had made her.
Dolly could talk of 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 hos, when the cattle were
sold, the first thing | hurried OF TO buy
DOlly's doll | found large one, with
eyes that would open aud shut when Won
pulled a wire and had it wrapped up in
paper, aud tucked it under my arm, while
! had the parcels of calico aud delane aud
tea and sugar put up. Then, late as it was,
] started for home. ltmight have been more
prudent to stay until morning, hut I felt
anxious to get back aud eager to hear Dol.
ly's praises about her doll.
was mounted on steadygong old
horse of mine, and pretty well loaded.
Night set in before ] was II mile from the
town, and settled down dark as pitch while
] was in the middle of the widest bit Of
road ] know of. l could have felt my way,
though, | remembered it SO well and it
was almost, when the storm that had been
brewing broke and pelted the rain in tor
rents, five miles, or maybe six, from home
yet, too.
rode as fast as could, but all of sud
den | heard little cry like child's
voice! | stopped short and listened. |
heard it again. | called, and il answered
me. ] couldn't see thing all was dark
as pitch. | got down and felt about in the
grass; called again, and 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
Il trap to catch me unawares and rob and
murder me.
| am not superstitious-no very: but
how could real child be out in the prairies
in such night, at such an hour? 1t IN light
be more than human.
The bit of a coward that hides itself in
most men showed itself to me then, and
was half inclined to run away; but once
more heard that cry, and said /:
"If any mans child is hereabouts,
Anthony Hunt is not the man to let it
die"
! searched again. At last l bethought
me of hollow under the hill, and gropcd
that way. Sure enough l found little
dripping thing, that moaned and s0bbed rs
| took IL IN my arms. | called my horse,
and the beast came to me, and | mounted
aud tucked the little soaked thing under
my coat as well as could, promising to
take it home TO nanny. II seemed tired
to death, and pretty soon cried itself TO
sleep against my bosom.
II bnl c1a tbnr
saw my own windows. There were lgh Is
in them, and suppose my wife had lit
them for my sake; but when got into he
door-yard | saw something was the matt er.
and stood still with dead fear of heart
five minutes before | could lift the lat ch
A last did it. and saw the room full Of
neighbols, and my wife amid them weep7
ing.
When she saw me she hid her face
Oh, dom tell him. she said. 1t will
kill him.
What is it. neighbors?n L cried.
And one said rft
Nothing now, hopewhat's thai in
your alms?"
A poor, lost child" said I. 81 found
it on the road. Take il, will YOU? I've
turned faint" Aud | 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.
Ny little child had wandered out 10
meet daddy and the doll while her
mother was at work, aud whom they were
lamenting as one dead thanked heaven
on my knees before them all. 1t 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 heard the cry for help upon the
road, the little baby, hardly louder than u
squirrel chirp.
That's Dolly yonder with her mother in
the meadow, girl worth saving-I think
(but then I'm her father and partial
maybe the prettiest and sweetest thing
this side of the Mississippi.