Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1890-12-30
DiSSY.


canons Of the R0chy fountains or on
the vast rolling prairieS Of the north
west. a more absolute v lonely spot
than that ON whic, ssood the Cram
berry Greek telcgri cabin -of the
Buffalo and AlisSi ppi River Rail-
road. Ii was located right in the
heart of the dense forests Of Putnam
county. Ohio, and Is, even to-day,
miles removed from q habitaiion of
any kind TO say nothing about towns
and villages.
A good many freight trains pass the
cabin each day but they usually rattle
by Cranberry Creek without stopping,
though once in a eat while it is
found necessary 10 Ill the local.
or section Of freight train for
orders. The cabin itself was an old
box car set at the side of the track
and painted "A bright red, so that the
engineers might see ii long distance
off. 1t was partitioned into two COM
paftments, one ena being the office
and the other end the z boudoil'' of
Joe Denman, the operator,
Some eight or nine years ago. on
Sunday afternoon, in the summer
time. Joe took his armchair out and
planted it between the cabin and the
track Then he planted himself in
the chair, tilted il back against the
red wall of his cabin, and commenced
TO read the weekly paper which Ben
Bolton, the conductor of the local,1
always left AZ Cranberry Creek on
each recurring Saturday evening.
For man who could not cross his
legs (Jbe only had one having lost the
other when he was hrakeman) our
friend made himself as comfortable as
circumstances would permit and, as it
was . pleasant enough day, Joe Den
man was fairly well contented and
happy. Inside tile cabin could be
heard the ceaseleSs click-clieketty-
click Of the little hammer on the tele-
graph table, as messages few over the
circuit Of wire thai included Cranberry
Creek
But Joe was such an old timer with
the ticker that he could read and
even whistle and talk, when there was
any one to talk to, and still answer
very promptly when he was called by
the train dispatcher or by some
operator a hundred miles away. As
he unfolded his newspaper Joe
glanced up and down the track.
He could see nothing but the de-
serted railroad, cut like a deep. narrow
swath through Il e thick forest. To
the east and to tie west nothing was
visible but the two lines Of glittering
steel rails stretching away until track
and forest and sky blended in the hazy
distance. Ii seei d so lonesome that
Joe was really grateful to the white
post few yards away, on which he
saw in black characters. &C. 255;'' for
he was reminded then that Chicago at
least was only two hundred and fifty
five miles distant.
Joe read on for more than an hour,
and was so engrossed in clever edi-
torial that he STAR ID almost out of his
chair when he it the sleeve of his
coat gently pulled, while baby voice
said sweetly enough
Hello y
The operator dropped his paper to
gaze upon a little child, a girl-per-
haps four or five years old She was
very pretty, with soft plump checks
and hands, and W tn ha;r that was more
white than golden. il was so very fair.
The little one was evidently the child
Of poor people; for her tiny dress was
OF cotton, her shoes, so Vefy dusty,
were of the cheapest kind, and her
large straw hat was untrimmed.
~ she said again, with a
sweet baby smile and with as much
confidence as if she had known the
operator all her short life.
Why, bless my soul y said Joe.
who was more surprised than he had
been when be fell under the wheels
years before. But Joe. old bachelor
and hermit as he was. loved little
children and was a kind-hearted fel-
low.
Why, little 'un. where did You
blow from ?'' he asked the child, as he
gently sat her on his knee. and with
his red bandana handkerchief wiped
the thick dust off the little shoes.
THAT way" she answered promptly.
pointing her chubby fingers to the
west.
But Joe was puzzled. He knew
there was no house within four miles
in that direction.
What is the baby's name % asked
Joe.
Dissy.n
Sissy ?'' repeated Joe, imagining
that he could interpret baby language
very nicely.
" Es. um.r said the child. shaking
her head, -" Dissy."
And in all the years that followed
Joe Denman never learned the history
Of the baby girl nor where she came
from on that summer Sunday after
noon. He had to remain satisfied that
her name was Dissy, and the only
reasonable or probable explanation of
the strange name came once from a
tramp book agent. who suggested that
it might possibly be an abbreviation of
Eurydice. For Joe. the operator. took
fancy to the little waif: and. as
there was no law or even rule of the
railroad to prevent him. he decided to
adopt the tiny, fair-haircd stranger.
He was so generous that he gave up
his private apartment to Miss Dissy.
and himself slept on cot in the tele-
graph Office.
More than seven years pass away,
and. according to Joe Denman's calcu-
lations, Dissy must have been we'll
nigh twelve years old. She was so
old that. although it gave Joe's heart
big painful wrench when he thought
about it. the operator had made up
his mind that he must send the girl to
good school. where she would have
al the benefits of an education and
womanly training. But as yet he had
said nothing Of his plans to the young
girl herself.
One afternoon in the fall Of the year