Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1886-01-28

before. They all loved each other
the red-headed woodpecker, the yellow
bird and the flower-yes. all through
the days OF spring and al through the
summer time they loved each other in
their own honest, sweet. simple way.
But one morning Fido sat on the
front porch and wondered why the lit
tie boy had not come to the fence cor
ner and called to him. The sun was
high, the men had been long gone to
the harvest fields and the heat of the
early autumn day had driven the birds
to the thickest foliage of the trees.
Fido could not understand why the lit
tie boy did not come; he felt, oh! SO
lonesome, and ne yearned for the sound
of a little voice calling "goggie, Cog
gle, google.
The red-headed wood-peeker could
not explain it, nor could the yellow
| the fence-corner and asked the flower
if she had seen the little boy that morn
ing. But no, the flower had not laid
eyes on the little boy. and she could
only shake her head doubtfully when
Fido asked her what it all meant At
last in desperation Fido braced himself
| for heroic solution OF the mystery,
and as loudly as ever he could he
barked three times-in the hope, you
know, that the little boy would hear
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 woodchuck saw him coming
and amblcd out to meet him.
But where is our little boy?" asked
the old woodchuck.
II do not know" said Fido. II
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 ne moped about! How
each sudden sound-hOw each football
startled him! 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 a little figure in a night-dress
come to an upper window and lean his
arms out. They saw it was the little
boy, and, oh! how pale and ill 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 Oh 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-bow 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 watt
ing for him in the old fence-corner.
Then the yellow bird did as Fido
asked-shc 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 Oh 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. l think he must be dream
ing beautiful dream. for could see
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 lis all call to him at once. Then
perhaps he VIII hear us and awaken
and answcr-pcShaps 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
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 boy!'
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. Cal! on. oh, honest friends!
but he shall never hear your calling;
for. as if he were aweary of the love
and play and sunshine that were all he
knew of earth, our darling is asleep
forever. - Eugene Field, IN Chicago