The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-01-27

him, clasping the head with its tangled
gold right against her breast. Benje's
hand stole up to her face. "That feels
like mamma, Miss Jessie. That's the
way she used to do when she wanted
papa real bad, and she'd call me her
baby, and kiss me lots" Benjie nes-
tied closer in The girls arms, his brave
little mouth a-quiver. Nobody amt
kissed me much since mamma died.
Seems like Pm losted from everybody (;
N come here every evening N say,
Now lay mep"
Miss Jessie held the lonely little lad
close. "See, Bernie; shut your eyes
and let me kiss you and pretend it is
mamma. The big eyes instantly closed,
and she kissed again and again the hum
cry little mouth, till its quivers changed
into a contented smile. 81 love you,
Miss JESSIE" he whispered. 81 love
you lots"
Busy thoughts had been saying them
selves in the girls brain. Why not I?
1t might be one of those CANCELS un-
awares," 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 decision.
Benjie, Pm going to AXE you home
with me, and you shall be my baby, and
We'll havoc, the most beautiful times,
Benjie 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 Pm going to keep you
for always. And Pm Aunt Jessie.
You are my baby, sure. And | 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 dear little boy that needed an
auntie. Come, now, my laddie; Wen
90 home and see what goodies old
Marcy has for supper"
Poor little Benjiel 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.
Somebody had found him, and some one
knew how to kiss him like mamma
kissed him, and knew how TO love him
nearly like mammals love.
There wasn't gayer little trick in
the town than Benjie, when the sense
of utter aloneness had vanished in the
feeling that he belonged to somebody
| Up and down the streets the little lad
went in play and sober pretense of
going to school, the sunny curls bob
bing merrily as the happy feet danced
over the pavements. a laughing little
romp; darling, coaxing club ola boy;
clipper as a spring lark. Miss Jessie
bowed down before him, unconsciously
flexible in the imperious baby hands
l think the girl adored him. Every
thread of gold on his pretty head was
dear to her. And Benjie, little auto
crat and lover, thought her the end
of everything sweet and good and
beautiful.
The express was past due that morn
ing. The school bell was ringing a
lazy summons across the sunshiny at
mosphere, and chattering children were
fling past in slow groups, tarrying
along the way, feet heavy with re-
uctance. The air was so sweet with
honeysuckle and smell of poisoning
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
together-flowers and butterflies and
Young robins and children-out for a
heyday.
Benjie reached the crossing, up a
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. Mis- Jessie pushes them
away so 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"
:" It's 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 gentleman kneels by the
child and catches him to his heart, and
pitiful sobs tear his throat, gasping,
fearless, lt's-my-boy-my Godl-
it's my baby-my Benjiel" in words
hoarse with anguish,
Somehow-no one knows bow-but
somehow, they bear little Benjie back
down the street, under the honey
suckles, 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 a
darkened room, and brushed the gold
into shining rings over a spotless pill
low and put lily in the baby hand.
And they tell him how Benjie came to
be Miss Jessie's little lad, and showed
him pictures of a merry, happy face,
with dimpled 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
| draining on il fresh hOWera ae they