Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1888-05-25


up toward the Canongate, and there, in the
drifting and melting snow, he found great
long bundle, which turned out to be Mrs
Ford and her baby.
Every one has read stories of mothers being
overtaken in snow storms, and of them shield
ing their babes with the very last spark of
warmth in their hearts. In this case it was
exactly the reverse.
Mrs. Ford had in her drunken stupor felt
the need of pillow, and used the baby for
that, wrapping the shawl which should have
been on it round her own valuable FRAME
So when Freddy found them the baby was
nearly dead, while its mother snored on, less
likely to die than the sun is to snuff out
Freddy could no more have lifted that big
woman than he could have tilted over Ar
thurs seat into Duddingstone's Loeb, and he
tried hard to get the key of the door out of
her pocket
But drunken ones always do what you want
them not to do, and Mrs Ford had laid down
on the pocket side, and so the key was under
mountain which nothing but an enchanter's
wand could move. The baby, reused at last,
began to cry, and Freddy became desperate
Every one was in bed, but he must get help
of some kind.
He ran out of the close, carrying the baby
with him, intending to look for a policeman,
but he got as far as the Tolbooth station
without finding one, and so turned in there.
The condition of the baby then seemed so
critical that the sergeant in charge had it
taken care of while he sent down two men to
bring up the drunken mother.
Thus, with the very best intentions in the
world, Freddy was the means of landing his
stepmother in prison, for she awoke next
morning with her head on a wooden pillow
instead of a soft baby, with no chance Of
satiating the frightful crave for more drink,
and the comforting assurance of those about
her that she was in for a smart sentence at
the police court, if the baby lived, and sure
to be hanged if it died.
Naturally she disliked the situation and es-
pecially being sent back to the cell for an
other day till they should see if the baby
lived, but all her resentment concentrated
against Freddy. 1t was his spitefulness
which had landed her there, and if the baby
had caught cold, whose fault was it but his!
Wasn't he its nurse? Hadn't he sole respon-
sibility, and hadn't she told him hundred
times that if anything happened to it he
should suffer for it?
Beyond the short imprisonment or fine,
beyond her present inconvenience and suffer-
Ing, there doomed up before her sacred
duty-to correct Freddy in such manner
that he should never 60 wrong again.
Contrary to all expectation, the baby was
quite well in a day, SO Mrs. Ford was simply
sent to prison for seven days without the
option of a fine. Seven days is not long for
a woman to have to nurse her wrath, and
this one had enough to last for seven years.
The child's life had been saved by Freddy
every one told her so-but then every one
did not know that Freddy should never have
allowed her to use it as pillow, or to put it
in danger.
Freddy had a glorious holiday of seven
days in the poor house, with no furnishings
and three meals regularly every day, and
full liberty to nurse the baby and talk to it
all day long. 1t was such jolly time that
he became convinced that heaven must be
only big kind of poor house, where meals
are regular and where stepmothers can never
come.
When Mrs. Ford was set free and came for
them, she found them both very much i'm
proved. She received them most graciously
in the place, but when she got out and had
Freddy alone, she told him that she would
teach him something when she got him home,
and thereupon put before him in all its
Nervousness his spiteful and wicked conduct
hauled to prison like Jail bird and thief
such as himself.
This discourse lasted all the way home, and
became so voluble and terrorizing that just
as they reached Lochend's close Freddy
turned about and ran off with such swiftness
that Mrs. Ford never dreamed of pursuit
More spitefulness on his part. He knew that
he deserved to be half killed, and yet he had
the audacity to run off, instead of accepting
his fate in all meekness
She was more than ever convinced that the
young wretch would come to bad end, and
that the greatest trial woman can have is
to be stepmother. The thought was so pain
full to her feelings that she spent the rest of
the day in drinking. She wished to shut out
her griefs and to prepare herself for her
sacred duties, and was careful in leaving the
house not to lock the door. Experience
teaches, and she felt that it was just possible
that on her return she would be unable to use
the key. And yet the bailie on the bench had
called her a 'careless woman!" The world is
full of calumniators.
When she returned she was just able to
walk, and ferocious enough to have roasted
boy and eaten him. Freddy had crept home
and fallen asleep waiting for her, and it was
falling over him in the dark which recalled
her to her duty. She set down the baby,
ordered him to light candle, and then got
him by the hair. She remembered something
about "sparing the rod and hating the child"
but was too overpowered with emotion and
love to be able to utter the sentiment, so she
merely staggered forward for her rod This
rod was bit of thick iron wire which she
used for a poker, and with that and her
strong arm
They say that the spirits of the dead hover
IUuuu rlmes, ana see wnaJ we sulrer,
and sympathize with us. Did the spirit of
that child's mother look on all that and never
put out hand to stop it, or had it merely
the power to see and not interfere?
Freddy was thrown out at the door like
useless old shoe at last, and dimly felt him
self roll down the stairs, hoping that they
would end in hole which should lead to
another world. The rod had been all over
him, and so much about his head that he
seemed to be half in another world already
a world of dreams and shadows and strange
voices and shining lights.
He had vague idea of help being found
even for such mauled and beaten body as
his, up at the central police office, and he
managed to drag thither by slow stages, and
reached it just as policeman was coming
out.
'M'Govan-I want M'Govan," he YEARLY
whispered, and then the man gave him to
understand that the hour was late, and that
had gone home long since. Then, as he still
repeated his whisper, the man directed him
to my house in Charles street, and he turned
away in that direction.
He found Charles street, but had no idea
where the house was. He had looked for
some kind of big, wide entrance, like that at
the central. Further on he saw an unscreened
window, down a few steps, and inside a
mother putting boy of his own age to bed.
She warmed his feet, tucked him in lovingly,
and made him clasp his hands and speak
little prayer after her, and then crowned all
by pressing warm kiss on his lips.
And outside, in the dark, was the small
castaway seeing it all. His bruised body
needed tucking in; his weary head needed the
soft pillow of a mothers BOSOM and his
quivering lips cried aloud for the tender
touch of loving lips. His brain was in
mist, but through it all came one thought
thrilling, startling and electrical
1 have mother too! I'll go to her.
So the weary feet trailed away through the
silent streets till they landed him at the gate