Smyrna times., 1884-10-29
A Western DroVer's Story,

lures"
A Western Drover's Story.
My name is Anthony Hunt. am a
drOver, and live miles and miles awav
upon the Western prairie. There
wasn't a house in sight when first
moved there, my wife and l, and now
we have not many neighbors, though
those we have are good ones.
One day, about ten years ago, went
away from home to sell some fifty
head of cattle-fne creature as 1 ever
saw. was to buy some groceries and
dry goods before I came back, and
above all, a doll for our Youngest,
Dolly. She had never had a store doll
OF her own-Only rag babies her
mother had made her.
Dolly could talk nothing else, and
went down to the very gate to call
after me to get big one. Nobody but
a parent can understand how full nv
mind was of that toy, and how, when
the cattle were sold, the first thing
hurried off TO buy was Dolly's doll. 1
found large one with eyes that would
open and shut when you pulled wire,
and had it wrapped up in paper, and
tucked 1t under my arm, while l had
the parcels of calico and delaine and
tea and sugar put up. Then, late as it
was, l started for home. 1t might
have been more prudent to stay until
morning, but [ felt anxious to get
back, and eager to hear DOlly's praises
about her doll.
| was mounted on steady going
old morse and pretty well loaded.
Night set in before 1 was a mile from
town, and settled down as dark as
pitch while / was in the middle of the
darkest bit of road / know of. I could
have felt my way, though, I remember
ed 1t so well; and when the storm that
had been brewing broke, and pelted
the rain in torrents, was five miles,
or may be six miles from home.
rode as fast as 1 could, but all of a
sndden | heard little cry like child's
voice! | stopped short and listened
L heard it again. l called, and it
answered me. l couldn't see thing
all was as dark as pitch. l got down
and felt around in the grass-called
again, and again was answered Then
l began to wonder. Pm not timid,
but | was known to be a drover. and
to have money about me. It might be
a trap to catch me unawares and rob
and murder me. I am not supersti-
tious-not very; but how could a real
child be out on the prairie in such a
night, at such an hour? 1t might be
more than human. The bit of a cow
ard that hides itself in most men show
ed itself to me then, but once more I
heard the cry, and said 1:
If any mans child is hereabouts,
Anthony Hunt is not the man to let it
die"
L searched again. At last I be-
thought me of a hollow under the hill,
and CROPPED that way. Sure enough,
found little dripping thing that moan
ed and sobbed as l took it in my arms.
l called my horse, and the beast came
to me, and l mounted and tucked the
little soaked thing under my coat as
well 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 windows. There
were lights in them, and 1 supposed
my wife had lit them for my sake; but
when 1 got into the doorway l saw
something was the matter, and stood
still with a dread fear of heart five
minutes before l could lift the latch.
At last 1 did it, and saw the room full
of neighbors, and my wife amid them
weeping. When she saw me she hid
her face.
"Oh, don't tell him." she said, cit
will kill him."
"What is it, neighborsP" ?" I cried.
Nothing now, hope-what's that
you have in your arm ?"
"a poor lost child" said I, "I found
it on the road. Take it, will you?
I've turned faint" And I lifted the
sleeping thing, and saw the face of my
own child, my Dolly.
1t was my own darling, and none
other, that l 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. l thanked Heaven on my knees
before them.
1t is not much of a story, neighbors,
but think of it often in the nights,
and wonder how 1 could bear to live
now, if l 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, a girl worth saving-I
think, (but then Pm her father, and
partial, may be) the prettiest and
sweetest thing this side of the
Mississippi.
SOUTHERN CoTToN MILLs.-Twenty
three cotton mills are now in process
of erection in the South and will cost
when completed $3, 100000. Alabama
has now twenty-three cotton mills,
Georgia sixty-two, North Carolina
ninety-two, South Carolina eighty-one,
Tennessee thirty-three, Virginia
fourteen, Maryland twenty-four, and
so on. Last year forty-fve factories
were erected in the Southern States.
The Southern people are taking advan-
tage of low prices of machinery, mate
rials and labor.
Stockton Bates of the Bridesburg.
Pa, Manufacturing Company stated
that if he could accept long time pay
ments for machinery he could imme-
diately book orders for $15O,0OO worth
of textile machinery. The South has
confidence in itself and its resources
and is pursuing a sound policy in ex-
panding facilities for production now
instead of waiting two or three years,
when a possible advance of twenty five
to th-rty-three per cent. might be made
in products.
Dennis O'Keefe, Raymond, Iowa,
says his wife suffered from rheumatism
for over four years, and having bought
her bottle of st. Jacobs Oil, the mag
ical pain.relieYer, which she used. she