The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1884-12-24

"Wellw said he, slowly, that's
the last ont; but / may as well go
to work." and he did. Nothing
more was heard of him in Hillvale,
and he never knew that the paper
Bill Decker had seen was an old
one.-so old that it was his wife's
death in the register. not his child's.
i In the mean time good Mrs.
Moore, not receiving any money, or
hearing any news of Sam Sylvester,
still took care of the lovely little
child as if it had been her own.
The child was six years old when
| Mrs. Moore died suddenly, and be-
ing childIess widow. with no
property to leave behind her, Polly
Sylvester was sent TO the selectmen
of the town and by them bound
out to Mrs. Tarbox. Two long
years ago, and six months beside.
had Polly taken her place in this
new family. When she came there
she was a plump and rosy child,
but now she was what we have
seen her: the long drudgery, un-
kindness, improper food, and no
care had made little Polly for
lorn sight. EEL 80,
She had now gone to drive the
COWS with Viohly.
20, Viohly, ! had such a splendid
dream Don't you know we had
that picture paper Miss Slater let us
take one time and it had about
/ Christmas in it, anG how children
somewhere hanged up their stock
ings. and YOU said it was real splen-
did. md YOU wisk your folks had
Christmas nd ] said | guessed i
NV father and mother want dead
should have one, because Mother
Moore always told nae what clever
folks they was ? And then don't
veu rek'lect that queer picture OF
! let's see, what's his name oh /!
Santa Claus film the stockins?
Whey. Rainbow shouting to a
COW that had left the line of march,
tempted bv a turnip field with the
bars down. Well, dreemed that
Santa Claus came down the chin
ney right there in the garret some-
how, and hung the dreadfulest great
big stockin' YOU ever did see clost
to the foot of M bed md when |
looked at him he kinder laughed an
said. Get up, Polly, an look in
your slockin'; it's Christmas day.
SO | looked in, and the stockin grew
bigser'n and bigger, amp there was
the most splendid kind Of a wagon
or sumthin' drawed by tao white
horses, and in ito Viohly, what
do YOU think ?-my own really and
truly father and mother, holdin' out
their arms to me-O, dear
The tears streamed down those
litils pale, hollow cheeks, and Polly
sat down on stone. sobbing bitter
ly: for she had driven the cows into
the lot and put up the bars while
she told her story.
Day after day went by, and Polly
grew yet more pale and pinched.
Autumn had brought its still harder
work than summer, and when WIN
ter came, with drifts of pltiless snow
over mountains and valleys, and the
fierce winds blew more and more
keenly upon Pollys half clothed
body and poor pretence OF bed, the
child seemed to shrink away daily );
there was no place for her by the
fire at night, no warm and nourish-
ing food by day, and when she was
worn out by hard work she crouch
ed and shivered under her seanty
bedclothes at night. falling asleep
from fatigue, without being warm.
One morning-it was the day be-
fore Christmes, but Polly did not
know it. for no record of any holi-
day bu- Thanksgiving was ever Kept
in the Tarbox family-she was
found in her garret SC drowsy and
stiff with cold that Mrs. Tarbox took
alarm lest some day her bound girl
might be unbound, and leave her
for the house of that Father whom
the poor child thought had forgotten
her.
So they told her she might bring
her bed down at night and spread it
in a corner of the kitchen, if it was
done only after the family had gone
TO bed. aud removed before they got
up. That night the moon shone
full and clear over the sheeted snow,
silvered the crests Of the great noun
tains that bore up its drifted piles,
and streamed into the darkest
depths of the valleys. By its light
Polly crept up to the garret and
loaded her trembling shoulders with
the husk mBttress and cotton COM
Portable. Everybody in the houee
was warm in bed, and just us she
flung her burden down upon the
kitchen floor there came a loud rap
at the door. Polly was frightened,
and Mrs. Tarbox called from her
bedroom:
open that are door, Poll, pretty
quick don't stand gawpin round
as efyou wuz city folks !"
The startled little creature did as
she was bid and there on the door
steps stood man, while beyond him
in sleigh heaped with furs, the
moon, nov shining like day, showed
to Polly a lady muffied to her throat
and Just holding aside silvery veil
to look out and the lady saw a
slender, pallid child, with large, soft
ewes, aud a head of tangled curls
shivering on the doorstep before the
strange gentleman. This took but
one instant's glance, and the stran-
ger asked if Mrs. Tarbox lived there.
Yes. sir, " said Polly.
The man seemed choked with his
next question, it came so painfully
and SO low
Whit is your name, child?"
Polly Sylvester, siri "
My own bsby p was the deep,
low answer; and Polly rested right
in her fathers arms, sobbing so her
selfshe could not hear the answering
thro5s OF his heart, though her poor
tired head lay upon it.
"Polly. shut the door Y scream
ed Mrs. Tarbox but there was no
answer Ont she honned from her