Birmingham age-herald., 1894-07-15
STORY OF A BAsYs BLANKET.
A Sad scene Recalled by an Auctioneer a'
 He Sold the CoverIid.


 It had been busy day at tho exchange, and the auctioneer had grown a trihe weary over the repeated trials which had beset and worried even this Trojan son of the stump The continual refrain of "Going, going, g-o-n-e" echoed in his brain until ho sighed for respite from his labors.
 The eager crowd had come and gone for several hours, and as he stood on one of the velvet chairs that had come from no- body but himself knew where he gaZed upon the upturned faces of the people waiting for chance to bid For many years had he been prominent figure i'll the auction mart, and under his hammer had gone often the fruits of lifetime of accumulation-gone for a song treasures over which the miser had crooned, the lover sighed, the mother wept-all gone, and with them the associations of a tender past, carrying with them the scent of the faded rose leaves or the sounds of bitter weeping over woes that had wrung the soul
 "Going, g-o-n-el" had echoed above the cushions into which the tears of happiness had dropped and over the velvets which had marked the impress of tiny feet, long since tripping in tho aisles of the un- known
 "How much am offerodP' had sent to the four corners of the earth so many things that day that the auctioneer hoped there was nothing left, but there was. His indefatigable- assistant had raked from corner bundle of bedding and handed it to his employer
 ,'What can get for this?" As he un- rolled the small bundle some one bid !" 50 cents.
 Then not another voice broke the stiffness which settled over the crowd as n child's blanket hung before their gaze Why? Did the sight of that small woolen cover tell to them, the callous crowd, a pitiful storyf
 The busy man forgot to cry his refrain as he dropped his eyes upon the little square Here and there upon its surface small stains, as if tears had fallen, met his eye, and his mind went back few years before that day to scene he never would forget.
 The bedchamber was darkened. About the blinds the gleam of sunlight crept into the room and fell like golden shafts upon the little cot over which his wife hung in an agony of bitter pain. He saw again the little white hands-hands that had crept so often about his neck at night as
 
 such cover as he now held in his grasp. He saw the little head with its mass of tangled curls move restlessly on the pill low, and he felt again the hot touch of tho red lips upon which he had pressed his own in loving caresses, eager to soften the pain and to woo back into health the loved little form slowly drifting, drifting away. = .--,.e..
 The crowd was gone This busy man saw nothing but the child who had grown | to his very being and then loosed his little ] grasp on the world and had gone drifting drifting out to sea, which promised frsf mite love, but left bitter desolation and despair for those left behind. The tears fell down upon his bearded cheeks, and as he felt the hot drops he awokc from his dream.
 "Gone for 50 cents to the only and last bidder.
 The auctioneer sighed heavily as he got down from his stand and watched the crowd depart and then he went to his wife, his heart filled with sorrow at the thought of his own dear little one and the empty cradle packed away in the garret Now Orleans Picayuno.