Alpena argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1893-1909, 1893-04-05
THE LITTLE BLUE CAP.


by wisteria and Virginia creeper.
Durand's hands bore the marks of
honest toll, for he had been lock-
smith in his youth, and had, by i'll
dustry and economy, raised himself
steadily until he became the pro-
prietor of a large business, and Sc
cured competency for his old age.
His wife, a quiet, gentle creature,
worshipped her husband, and both
of them wore on their faces an ex-
preston ofserenity, which betokened
ease ofconscience and life of peace.
Durand was past sixty years OF age
and his wife must have been fifty,
yet in spite of their wrinkles and
gray hairs, these two treated each
other with an effectionate Difference
which was a pleasure to behold.
They were Philemon and Baucis
resuscitated.
While we were engaged in con-
versation just before dinner Durand
rose and opened drawer to take
out some trihe which he wished to
show me. While he was turning
over the contents of the drawer it
CHANGED that a little blue cap, such
as might have been worn by doll
or an infant, fell to the floor. |
picked it up and noticed that it was
made of coarse blue linen, with two
bits of Irvine instead of ribbons.
AS | handed it to him ! said gayly:
Are you preparing baby bas-
ket, Papa Durand?"
| had no sooner spoken than | re-
GREETED it, for | recollected at that
moment having heard that the only
shadow OH my friends lives was the
fact of their union being a childless
one. For "a minute Durand made
no reply, but looked at the little cap
affectionately, then as he laid it
carefully away again he said in a
tone of seriousness:
THAT is a souvenir"
Then we all three sat down to
dinner and talked of other matters;
but as soon as the repast was finish
ed, and the little maid of all work
had put cigars and liquors upon
the table, my friend said suddenly:
How much that cap reminds me
of" 1t was evident that he wanted
to explain his remark, and | begged
him to do so.
1T was great many years ago."
he said after slight pause, ''for |
was about twelve years old. ! was
working i'll a large factory, and |
had a companion Of the same age
as myself, whom, on account of his
ugly features, we nicknamed 'Zizi
Monkeyface.' He was shy, thiev-
ing, mischievous urchin, very much
given to filching tarts from the
pastry cooks counter, but IA jolly
little chap and full of pluck. He
was so lazy that he would have
been turned out of the factory had
it not been for the indulgence of
the oyerseer, who had been friend
of his fathers and who took an in
terest in the boy for the sake of his
dead comrade. Monkeyface was an
orphan, and the only relative he had
ever known was the woman who
had brought him up, cousin of
his mothers. This woman was a
fish pedlar, a brawling, brutal crea-
ture, whose affection for her young
charge was manifested only by
blows. Perhaps if he had known a
parents love he would have been
less perverse.
"One afternoon the lad took it
INTO his head to run away from the
factory and go vagabonding about
with gang of young ruffians like
himself. As they were coming
slowly home after nightfall they
heard to their establishment the cry
of IN infant. The sound seemed to
issue from long, narrow, dirty
alley which opened on the street,
and at the other end of which hung
a dimly Pickering lamp. After a
short consultation, the street boys
ventured softly into the passage,
and one of them espied behind the
door little bundle of rags which
struggled and walled. He seized
hold of it, and the whole party ran
into the street, triumphant, stop
ping under lamp to examine their
capture. II proved to be baby
girl few weeks old, wrapped up in
a series of dirty clothes; a poor lit
tie innocent whom a wretched, per-
haps desperate, mother had aban-
doned to the charity of strangers.
A council was held to decide
what should be done with the booty,
o,I tbo xnnno oo,,4o~o r,aya fxoo