The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1892-03-18

serves IN the girl S,Draln. why n0tp 1t
might be one of those "angels una
wares" if she opened her doors to this
little one. There was none to gainsay
her. AS the child's arms chung about
her neck, her thought reached a decis-
ion.
''Benjie, I'm going to take you home
with me, and you shall be my baby, and
We'll havoc, the most beautiful times,
Beniiel and you'll be my little helper
boy, and help me keep the weeds out of
my roses; and you shall go to school;
and, do you know, Benjie, think your
mamma knows I'm going to keep you
for always. And I'm Aunt Jessie. You
are my baby, sure. And 1 think maybe,
Benjie, maybe, that one of the angels
that your mamma told you come when
the dark comes sent me up here to find a
dear little boy that needed an auntie.
Come, now, my laddis; We'll go home
and see what goodies old Marcy has for
supper"
Poor little Benjie! Poor little seven
year-old baby! The great bewildered
blue eyes studied the young girls face,
then hid themselves on the tender heart,
and cried out all the loneliness. Some
body had found him. and someone knew
how to kiss him like mamma kissed
him, and knew how to love him nearly
mammals love.
There wasn't gayer little trick in the
town than Benjie, when the sense of ut
ter aloneness had vanished in the feeling
that he belonfied to somebody. Up and
down the streets the little lad went in
play and sober pretense of going to
school, the sunny curls bobbing merrily
as the happy feet danced oveI the pave
ments. A laughing little romp; a darl-
ing, coaxing club of boy; clipper as a
spring lark. Miss Jessie bowed down
before him. uncOnsciously flexible in the
imperious baby hands. think the girl
ad0red him. Every thread of gold on
his pretty head was dear to her. And
Benjie, little autocrat and lover, thought
her the end of everything sweetand good
and beautiful.
The express was past due that morn
ing. The school bell was ringing lazy
summons across the sunshiny atmOs-
phere, and chattering children were fill
ing past in slow groups, tarrying along
The air was so sweet with honeysuckle
and smell of blossoming shrub; so many
butterflies floated in the sunshine,
tempting every lad and lassie to idleness,
that it seemed pity not to turn all the
pretty things loose ogether-fowers and
butterflies and young robins and chill
dren-Out for heyday,
Benjie reached the crossing, up
graded ascent, and turned to wave an
other goodbye to auntie, who never
failed to be at the gate to watch HIM out
of sight. A whistle, a roar. and the
tardy express rounds the curve 1t
catches the little form, hurls it cruelty
out in the sunshine. Miss Jessie sees it
all; as she flies shrieking up the road,
the train slows, and the pale faces gather
about the tiny form lying so still on the
grass-a white face, with curling gold
hair and happy smile, settling in
deaths unchanging lines.
Not word spoken, only tears and sobs
and awe. Miss Jessie pushes them
away. 30 my baby, my baby!" she
means, as she filings herself down by her
little dead lad, covering the pretty face
with kisses, the disheveled curls, the
darling hands that just waved their gay
goodbye"
tits her adopted child" whispers one
to tall gentleman, who has grown
strangely white, as his plying look at
the girl turned to very agony of doubt
and horror, as it rests on the dead child's
face. '"My God" they hear him say.
And the tall gentlman kneels by the
child and catches. him to his heart, and
pitiful sobs tear his throat, gasping,
fearless, "It's-my-boy-my GOd!-it's
my baby-my Benjie!' in words hoarse
with anguish.
Somehow-no one knows how-but
somehow, they bear little Benjie back
dow the street, under the honey-suck-
les, through the door. Somehow it has
been made clear to Miss Jessie; and in
some way, by whom or how no one quite
knows, they've put the round baby
limbs under soft shrouding in darken-
ed room, and brushed the gold into
shining rings over spotless pillow and
put lily in the baby hand. And they
tell him how Benjie came to be Miss
Jessie's little lad, and showed him pic
lures of merry, happy face, with dim
pied chin and big blue eyes. And they
buried Benjie close by his mother; and
the school children walked by two and
two past the tiny grave, dropping on it
fresh flowers as they went till twas hid
all from sight.
And one day, when another summer
time brought the anniversary of the day
Benjie went away to his own, own
mamma, Benjie's father and Miss Jessie
sat beside the little mound, and Benjle's
father told Miss Jessie the story of his
life. And over the little lad, to whom
she had given much love, unasked, she
promised Benjie's father the love he
humbly asked, and gave her promise to
be his wife-some Western Adro-
cate.