The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1884-12-18
The Wee Cry In the Night.

My name is Anthony Hunt. 1 am
drover, ard live nine miles away upon
the western prairie. There wasn't
house in sight when I first moved there,
my wife and 1, and now We have not
many neighbors, though those we have
are good ones.
One day, about ten years ago, I went
away from home to sell about fifty head
of cattle--fine creatures as / ever saw.
was to buy some groceries and drygoods
before I came back, and, above all, doll
for our youngest, Dolly. She had never
had store IDOL. ..of her own-oEly rag
babies her mother made her.
Dolly could talk nothing else, and
went down to the very gate to call after
me to gel big one. Nobody but a
parent can understand how full my mind
was of the toy, and how, when the cattle
were sold the first thing hurried off to
buy was Dolly's doll. found large
one with ewes that would open and shut
when you pulled wire, and had it
wrapped up in a paper and tucked it
under my arm while / bad the parcels of
calico, and delaine aud tea, and sugar
put up. Then, late as it was, l started
for home. 1t might have been more
prudent to Btay until morning, but 1 felt
anxious to yet back and eager to hear
Dolly's praises about her doll.
was mounted on steady>going old
horse and pretty we'll loaded. Night set
in before I was mile from town. and
settled down as dark as pitch while was
in the middle of the darkest bit of road
l know of. l could have felt my way,
though, / remembered it so we'll; and
when the storm that had been brewing
broke and p,lted the rain in torrents, /
was FIVE miles or maybe six miles from
home.
/ rode as fast as could, but all of
sudden heard little cry like child's
voice. stopped short aud listened. !
heard it again. Icalled and it answered
me. couldn't see thing; all was as
dark as pitch. I got down and felt
around in the grass-called again, and
again was answered. Then l began to
wonder. I'm not timid, but l was
known to be drover, and to have mon.
ey about me. 1t might be a trap to
catch me unaware and rob and murder
me. I am not superstitious, not very,
but how could a real child be out on the
prairie in such night, at such an hour?
It might be more than human. The bit
of coward that hides itself in most
men showed itself to me then, but once
more heard the cry, aud said l.:
"If any mans child is hereabouts
Anthony Hunt is not the man to let it
die"
searched again. At last bethought
me of hollow under the hill and
groped that way. Sure enough found
a little dripping thing that moaned and
sobbed as | took it in my arms. called
my horse and the beast came to me and
I mounted and tucked the little soaked
thing under my coat as we'll as l could,
promising to take it home to mamma. 1t
seemed SO tired, and pretty soon cried
itself to sleep On my bosom.
1t had slept there over an hour when
saw my own window. There were lights
in them, and [ supposed my wife had lit
them, for my sake, but when / got into
the doorway I saw something was the
matter, and stood still with dread fear
of heart five minutes before could lift
the latch. All last did it and saw the
room full of neighbors and my wife
amid them weeping. When she saw me
she hid her face.
"Ob, don't tell him." she cried. "1t
will kill him."
"What is it neighbors?' 1 cried.
Nothing now, | hope. What's that
you have 10 your arm ?"
"a poor lost child" said II found
it on the road. Take it, will you? I've
turned faint" And lifted the sleep.
ing thing aud saw the face Of my own
child, my Dolly.
1t was my own darling and none other
that had picked up on the drenched
road. My little child had wandered out
to meet papa and the doll while the
mother was at work, and they were
lamenting her as one dead. thanked
heaven on my knees before them.
1t is not much of story, neighbors,
but think of it often in the nights and
| wonder how could bear to live now if
1 had not stopped when heard the cry
for help upon the road, hardly louder
than squirrels chirp.
That's dolly yonder with her mother
in the meadow; girl worth saving, l
think; but, then, I'm her father and
partial, maybe the prettiest and sweet
est thing this side of the Mississippi
st. Louis Globe Democrat.