Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1891-02-19
Mechan@own Frederick County, Maryland Thursday FEBRUARY 49, 1881.

track.
He could see nothing but the desert
ed railroad, cut like deep, narrow
swath through the thick forest. 70 the
east and to the west nothing was visible
but the two lines Of glittering steel rails
stretching away until track ard forest
and sky blended in the 'hazy distance.
1t seemed so lonesome that Joe was
really grateful to the white post few
yards away, on which he saw in black
characters, &c. 225;' for he was re-
.ninded then that Chicago at least was
only two hundred and fifty-fve miles
distant.
Joe read on for more than an hour,
and was so engrossel in o clever edito.
rial that he stalted almost out of bis
chair when he felt the sleeve of his coat
gently pulled, while baby voice said
sweetly enough
Hello r.
The operator dropped his PAPER to
gaze upon little child, girl, perhaps
four or five years old. She was very
pretty, with soft, plump cheeks and
hands, and with hair that was more
white than golden, it was 80 very talr.
The little one was evidently the child
of poor people; for her tiny dress was
of cotton, her shoes. so very dusty, were
of the cheapest kind, and her large
straw hat was untrmmed.
"Hallo!' she said again, with sweet
baby smile and with as much confidence
as If she had known the operator all
her short life.
"Why, bless nay soul!' Said Joe, who
was more surprised than when he fell
under the wheels years before. But
Joe, old bachelor and hermit as he was
loved little children and he was Il kind
hearted fellow.
"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's the baby's name - asked
Joe.
"Dissy."
Sissy? - repeated Joe, imagining
that he could interpret baby language
very nicely.
'Es, 'um," said the child, shaking
her head-"Dlssy."
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 afternoon.
He had to remain satisfied that her
name was Dissy, and the on Y reas>na-
bic or probable explanation OF the
strange name came once from 4 tramp
book agent, who suggested that it
might possibly be an abbreyiation of
Eurydice. For Joe, the operator, took
a 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. haired stranger. He was so
generous that he gave up his private
apartment to Miss Dissy, and himself
slept on a cot in the telegraph office.
More than seven years pass away and,
according to Joe Denman s calculations,
Dissy must have been wellnigls twelve
years old. She was so old that, although
it gave Joes heart a 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 all 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
Dissv sat alone in the barely furnished
Telegraph office for Joe and his crutch
had gone away with man who had
begged bin to show him to stave fac
tory, three miles back in the woods
Strictly, Joe should not have lett the
cabin but Dissy was as good a tele-
graph operator AS he was, even better.
and the girl did not mind III the least
being left alone an hour or so.
1t was II dreary afternoon and getting
very near evening. and Dissy had begun
TO feel exceedingly lonely. Even the
enormous. many colored posters that
hung on the wall of the room, proclaim
ing in startling language the many good
qualities of the Buffalo and Mississippi
Railroad, did not cheer her very much.