The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1882-01-12
DOLLY
"A Western DrOver's Story.

My name is Anthony Hunt. I am q
drcver, 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
neiRhbors, though those We have are good
ones.
One day, about ten years ago, I went
away from home to sell some fifty head Of
cattle--tiEe creatures as ever saw I Was
to bry some groceries and dry goods be-
fore come back, and. above all, doll for
our Youngest Dolly; she had never had q
store dol! 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 ono. Nobody but Il parent can
understand how full my mind was of that
Toy, and how, when the cattle were sold,
the first thing buried of to buy Dolly's
Doll. found 5: large one, with eyes that
would open and shut when you pulled a
wire. and he'd it wrapped Up in piper, and
tucked it under my arm, while had the
parcels Of calico and del,ina and tea and
sugar put up Then, late asst was, start
I'D for home. Il might have been more
prudent to stay until morning, but I felt
anxious to get back, and eager to hear
Dol|y's praise about her doll.
wss mounted on steady going old
horse Of mine, end pretty woll loaded.
Night set in before l was mile from town,
and settled down dark as pitch while I was
in the middle of the widest bit Of road I
know OF. Icould have felt my way, though,
/ remembered it so we'll; aud 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.
I F00o ~, fact I uop11 I,,t I'll - -
sudden heard littio CRY like a childs
voice! stopped short and listened-I
heard it again. called aud it answered
me. couldn't see thing; all was dark as
pitch. I got down and felt about in the
grass-cailed again and again was an
swered. Then l began to wonder. I'm
not timid, but was known to be droyor
and to have money about me. 1t might be
trap to catch me unawares and rob and
murder Inc.
I am not superstitious-no very; but how
could real child be out in the prairies in
such night. at such an hour2 Itmight 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 I:
If any mans child is hereaoouts, An
thonv Hunt is not the man to let it die"
searched again. At last hethought me
Of hollow under the hill, and CROPPED
that way. Sure enough I found q little
dripping thing, that moaned and sobbed az
took it i'll ny arms. I called INV 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 IA hour when I
saw my own windows. There were lights
in them, and supposed my wife had lit
them for my sake; but when I got into the
door-yard I saw something was the matter.
and stood still with a dead fear of heart
five minutes before could lift the latch.
At last did it, and saw the room full Of
neighbors, md my wife amid them weeping.
When she saw me she hid her face.
oh. don't tell him." she said. 1T will
kill him."
What is it, ncighbors?" I cried.
And one said:
Nothing now, I hope what's that in
your arms?"
"A poor lost child" said I. @Ifound it
on the road. Take it, will you. I've
turned faint" And I lifted the sleeping
thing and saw tho 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
daddy 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. 1t is not much of story,
neighbors, butt think of it often in the
nights, and wonder how could bear to live
now 1t had not stopped when heard the
cry for help upon the road, the little baby,
hardly louder than a squirrels chirp.
That's Dolly yonder with her mother in
the meadow, girl worth saving-1 thinl
(out then I'm her father, and partial
maybe)-the prettiest and sweetest thing
this side Of the Mississippi.