The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1883-12-07
DOLLY.
A Western Droyer's story.

My name is Anthony Hunt. I am a
drcver. and live miles and miles away upon
the western prairie. There wasn't u house
within sight when we moved there, my
wife and I, and now we haven't many
neighbours, though those We have are good
ones.
One day, about ten years ago, I went
away from home to sell some fifty head of
caffeine creatures as 1 ever saw. l was
to buy some groceries n dry goods be-
fore / come back, and, above all, n doll for
our youngest Dolly; she had never lad a
store doll of her own-only the rag babies
her mother had made her.
Dolly could talk nothing else, aud went
down to the very gate to call after me to
buy a big one. Nobody but a parent can
understand how full my mind was of hat
t oy, and how, when the cattle We're sold,
the first thing l buried off to buy Dolly's
Doll. l found a large one. with eyes that
would open and shut when you pulled a
wire, and had it wrapped up in paper, and
tucked it under my arm, while 1 had the
parcels of calico and delains and tea and
sugar put up. Then, late asst was, I start
ed for home. 1t might have been more
prudent to stay until morning, but l felt
anxious to get back, and eager to hear
Dolly's praise about her doll,
L Who uiptuptu III u otetLuy pOluS Oiu
horse Of mine. and pretty we'll loaded.
Night set in before l was a mile from town,
and settled down dark as pitch while l was
in the middle of the Widest bit of road 1
know of. Icould have felt my way, though,
| remembered it SO we'll; and I was almost,
when the storm that had been brewing broke
and pelted the rain in torrents, FIVE miles,
or may be six, from home vet, too.
l rode on as fast as l could, but all of a
sudden I heard a little cry like a child's
voice! I stopped short and li%stened-I
heard it again. I called and it answered
me. l couldn't see a thing; all was dark as
pitch. l got down and felt about in the
grass-called again AMI again was an
swered. Then 1 began to wonder. I'm
not timid, but I was known to be a drover
and to have money about me. 1t might be
| trap to catch me and rob and
murder Inc.
l am not superintendent very; but how
could q real child be out in the p%rairies in
such a night, at such an hour? Itmlght be
more than human.
The bit of a coward that hides itself in
most men showed itself to me then, and 1
vas half inclined to run away. but once
more l heard that cry, and said I:
IF any mm's child is hereaboutI, An
thony Hunt is not the man to let 1t die"
l searched agaiu. At last I bethought me
OF a hollow under the hull. and CROPPED
that way. Sure enough I found a little
tripping thing, that moaned and sobbed as
| took 1t IN my arms. I called my horse,
and the beast came to me, and I mounted,
nd tucked the little soaked thing under
my coat as well as I could, promising to
take it home to NANNY. 1t seemed tired
10 death. and pretty soon cried itself to
sleep az INST my bosom.
1t had slept thare over IN honr when I
saw my W windows. There were lights
IN them. and l supposed my wife had lit
them for my sake; but When | got into the
door yard l saw something was the matter,
md stood still with Il dead fear of heart
i've minutes b, fore l could lift the latch.
At last I did it, and saw the room full of
n%eighbors, and my wife amldth them weeping.
When she saw me she hid her face.
oh. don't tell him." she said. at will
kill him." .
What is it, neighbors?" I cried.
And one said:
"Nothing now, 1 hope-what's that IN
your arms?"
"A poor lost child" said 1. IT found it
IN the road. Take it, will You. I've
turned faint" And l lifted the sleeping
thing and saw the face of my own child,
my little Dolly.
It was my darling. aud ION other. that l
had picked up upon the drenched road.
My little child had wandered out to meet
daddy and the doll, while her mother was
work. and whom they were lamenting as
one dead. l thanked Heaven on my knees
'efore them all. It is not much of a story,
neighbors butt think of it often in the
nights, and wonder how I could bear to live
now If | had not stopped when l 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, a girl worth saving-I think
Our than I'm her father, and part, II,
naybe)--the p~rettiest and sweetest thing
this side of the Mississippi.