The McCook tribune., 1891-05-22

setting sun was lighting it with
| his last golden rays. Some OF
| the villagers were there before us, and
the others came up soon after, and
| the meeting there was q serious one,
as no one could give the least tidings
OF the missing child; and it was pain
full to think, not only of her forlorn
| condition and sufferings, but of the
deep, mental agony of the poor, loving
mother. SO sincere was the hesympathy
OF some OF the villagers, that one man
proposed to give hundred dollars to
whoever should find the child alive,
and nine others quickly joined him,
making the handsome sum of q thous-
and dollars reward, which it was right
ly believed would prove great
stimulus to exertion on the part Of
many who might otherwise prove
comparatively Indifferent.
In fact, the news of the reward did
fly rapidly, and the effect was almost
magical. Several of those present
from their days work as scarcely to
be able to drag their weary limbs
home, now hurried off to get their
supper, procure lanterns, and con-
tinue the search all night, while num-
bers at the village, who could not find
it convenient that day to give their
time to this work of humanity, now
turned out with an eagerness that
clearly showed how potent was the
spell OF money,
Not being in very good health my
self, and wishing to husband my
strength for the following day, went
home, and went to bed at an early
hour. Though very much fatigued, 1
could not sleep for long time,
and moved restlessly to and fro, my
mind filled with painful thoughts of
the poor child dying of starvation in
some lonely spot, and the poor moth
er shrieking away her reason over the
horrible discovery. At length came q
confused, half-conscious state, and
then that peculiar condition in which
we dream and know we dream, yet
have no desire so wake. | thought [
was out hunting the child, as 1 had
been that day, and that besides the
persons who had pursued the search
with me, there was also q stranger, a
man with q pale, ascetic face, and
dressed not unlike a clergyman. Walk
ing close up to ME, and fixing his dark,
expressive eyes intently upon me, he
said, in mild, pleasant tone, with q
winning smile:-"You are troubled
about this lost child, it does credit to
your heart-and | have come to show
you where she is
"Oh, if you know, speak," said I;
mot because of myself, but for her
sake, and her almost frantic moth
er's."
"Follow mel" returned the stranger,
at once leading me away from all the
rest.
Then [ thought we were at the foot
of the hill already more than once
mentioned, at the very point wheremy
companions and myself had begun its
ascent and that instead of going up,
as we had done, the stranger turned
to the right, and led the way through
a kind of swamp, till he came to
grassy meadow, through which flowed
a sparkling rivulet. This he crossed,
and continued on till he came to an
other hill, which was steep and rocky.
Clambering up this hill, past rock after
rock, we soon came to ledge that
was very difficult to ascent, and
around the base of which the shrub
berry was very dense. Turning into
this thicket, and keeping around a hill
we soon reached a point where the as
cent to the top OF the rocks was COM
paratively easy, and on coming to the
summit of the ledge, there sat thepoor
little girl, crying and wringinS her
hands, and occasionally stopping to
gaze with a shudder upon the dreary
scene below.
At this point of my dream, [ awoke;
but the whole scene had been so real,
that it was some time before [ became
convinced that [ had been dreaming
and hadnot seen the child at all; and
even then l was so impressed with the.
idea that the vision was something
more than q chance fancy, that felt
quite confident should find her ON the
morrow. ... =
At the first streai. of DAY 1 arose,
broke MY fast, and started off in
haste, telling my family OF my dream,
and that l really expected to find the
lOSU one. n luGSe UlllllDeE vi IilC ' IL
layers set Offat the same time as my
self, and on our way to the wood we
met nearly as many returning home
from fruitless nights labor, some of
them completely worn down with a
constant vigil and travel of four-and
twenty hours. To none OF those 60
ing out grooming III, however, did I
communicate my secret hope; but
managing to separate myself from all,
REPAIRED with all haste to the spot
where the stranger OF my dream had
led me away from my companions.
To my great delight might al
most say, surprise, though | confess |
half-expected the result discovered
the very swamp had gone throughin
my sleep; and beyond it, too, the very
same meadow and rivulet. My heart
beat fast. Could it be, after all, that
| had been directed by some higher
intelligence? and that I was destined
to save a sweet little life, and bring
great Joy to the almost breaking heart:
of a fond mother? [ Ifervently prayed
it might be SO.
hurried on, and still saw every
thing exactly as | had seen it in my
~ l., III