The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1886-01-15

his call and come. But the little boy
did not come.
Then Fido trotted sadly down the
lane to the pasture to talk with the old
woodchuck about this strange thing.
The old woodchIck saw him coming
and ambled out to meet him.
but where is our little boy?n asked
the old Woodchuck.
81 do rot know said Fido. 81
waited for him and called to him again
and again, but he never came.'
All, those were sorry days for the lit
tie boys friends, and sorriest for Fido.
Poor, honest Fido, how lonesome he
was and how he moped about How
each sudden sound-how each football
startled himi He he sat all those days
upon the front door-stoop, with his eyes
fixed on the fence-corner and his rough
brown ears cooked up as if he expected
each moment to see two chubby arms
stretched out toward him and to hear
baby voice calling google, google,
google.
Once only they saw him-Fido, the
flower, and the others. 1t was one day
when Fido had called louder than usual.
They saw little figure in night-dress
come to an upper window and lean his
arms out. They saw it was the little
boy, and, OH bow pale and i'll he
looked. But his yellow hair was as
glorious as ever, and the dimples came
back with the smile that lighted his
thin little face when he saw Fido; and
he leaned on the window easement and
waved his baby hands feebly, and cried:
Google! goggie!'' till Fido saw the lit
tie boys mother come and take him
from the window
One morning Fido came to the fence
corner-how very lonely that spot
seemed now-and he talked with the
flower and the woodpecker; and the
yellow bird came, too, and they all
talked of the little boy. And at that
very moment the old woodchuck
reared his hoary head by the hole Of
the pasture, and he looked this way
and that and wondered why the little
boy never came any more.
Suppose, said Fido to the yellow
bird, suppose you fly to the window
way up there and see what the little
boy is doing. Sing him one of your
pretty songs. and tell him we are lone
some without him that we are wait
ing for him in the old fence-corner.
Then the yellow bird did as Fido
asked-she flew to the window where
they had once seen the little boy, and,
alighting upon the sill, she peered into
the room. In another moment she
was back on the bush at Fido's side.
''He is asleep said the yellow bird.
''Asleep!" cried Fido
Yes, said the yellow bird, che is
fast asleep. / think he must be dream
ing beautiful dream, for / could see a
smile on his face and his little hands
were folded on his bosom. There
were flowers all about him, and but
for their sweet voices the chamber was
very STILL
''Come, let us wake him." said Fido;
''let us all call to him at once. Then
perhaps he will hear us and awaken
and answer-perhaps he will come. "
So they all called in chorus, Fido and
the other honest friends. They called
so loud that the still air of that autumn
morning was strangely startled, and the
old woodchuck in the pasture way off
yonder heard the echoes and won
dered.
Little boy! Little boy!' they called,
''why are you sleeping! Why are you
sleeping, little boyn'
Call on, dear voices! but the little
boy will never hear The dimpled
hands that caressed you are indeed
folded upon his breast; the lips that
kissed your honest faces are sealed; the
baby voice that sang your playtime
songs with you is hushed, and all about
him is the fragrance and beauty of
flowers. Call on. oh, honest friends!
but he shall never hear your calling;
for, as if he were aweary of the love
and splay and sunshine that were all he
80 0oiooa 0sOtIl 10 osn Isl. M Lz,z5suzIa
forever - Eayop53p z.Sss5g,.