Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1884-12-27
AyYes - 49, -.

A Yves ern Drover's story.
Philadelphia News.
My name is Anthony Hunt. am
dTOver and live miles and miles away
upon the western prairie. There wasn't
a house in sight when i first moved
there, my wife and l. and now we have
not many neighbOrs, but those we have
are good ones.
One day about ten days ago went
away from home to sell some fifty head
Of caffeine creatures as I ever saw.
was to buy some groceries and dry
goods before 1 came back; and above all
doll for our youngest Dolly. She had
never had a store doll of her own-only
rag babies which her mother had made
her.
Dolly could talk nothing else, and
went down to the very gate to call after
me TO get a big one. Nobody bat q par
ent can understand how full my mind
was of that toy, and how, Awhen tn
cattle were sold, the first thing 1 hurTie
off to buy was DOlly's doll i found q
large one with eyes that would open and
shut wien you pulled a wire, and had it
wrapped up in paper and tucked In
under my arm, while had the parcels
Of calico and delaine and tea and sugar
put up. Then, late as it was, 1 started
for home. 1t might have been more
prudent to stay until morning, bat felt
anxious to get back and eager to hear
DOlly's praises about her dol.
1 was mounted on a steady going old
horse and pretty we'll loaded. Night set
in before L was a mile from town, and
settled down as dark as pitch, while j
was in the middle Of the darkest bit OF
road / know Of I could have felt my
way through, 1 remembered it so well;
and when the storm that had been brew
ing broke, and pelted the rain in tor
alrlra h -.---
miles from home.
1 rode as fast as I could, but all Of a
sudden 1 heard a cry like a child's voice.
i heard IL again. L called, and 1T an
sweIed me. 1 couldn't see q thing; all
was as dark as pitch. / got down and
felt around in the grass-CalleG again,
and again was answered. Then began
to wonder. Pm not timid, but I was
known to be a drOver and to have money
about me. It might be trap to catch
me unawares and rob and murder me.
l am rot superstiuOus, not very, bat how
could a real child be out on the prairie,
in such a night, at such an hOurP 1t
might be more than human. The bit Of
coward that hides itself in most men
showed itself to me then, but once more
L heard the cry, and said 1:
eff any mans child is hereabouts, An
thOny Hunt is not the man to let It die"
L searched again. At last / bethOught
me Of a hollow under the bill and
CROPPED that way. Sure enough, 1 found
a little dripping thing that mOaned and
sObbed as L took it IN my arms. 1 called
my horse, and the beast came to me and
L mounted and tucked the little soaked
thing under my coat as well as I 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 I supposed my wife
had lit them for my sake; but when ]
got into the doorway l saw something
was the matter, and stood still with a
dread fear of heart five minutes before /
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 viii
kin him
What is it neigh bors?' I cried.
Nothing now, 1 hope. What's that
you have in your arms?"
"a poor lost child,7 I said; 81 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,
nv Dolly.
1t was my own darling, and none
other that 1 had picked up on the
drenched road. My little child had wan
dered 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 a story, neighbors.
but I think of it often in the nights, and
wonder how 1 could bear to live noWifI
had not stopped when I heard the CRY
for help upon the road, hardly louder
han a squirrels chirp.
That's Dolly yOnder with her mother
n the meadow girl worth saving-I
-hink (but then, Pm her father, and
partial, maybe, the prettiest and sweet
Est thing this side OF the Mississippi.