The Hawaiian gazette., 1894-08-07

couldn't "a made fine lady out o her. =
mo. couldn't "a done that, Z" said
Sam.
During the summer the news spread
through the village that g'anny's baby
was getting kind of cross and peevish,
and that the great lady had said to the
nurse that it was mistake for a person
30 adopt child.
Two months later it was declared
positively that Mrs. Eustice was going
to Europe with her husband and her
great aunt; that g'anny's baby lay i'll
in the big house; that Mrs. Eustice had
told the doctor she never could forgive
herself for adopting the child
The sun was about three feet from
the top of the second hill when the bit
of flying gossip reached the black
smiths shop and was just sinking be-
hind the hill when broad shouldered
man walked hastily across the grounds
and entered the big house by the rear
way.
While the man sat waiting in the
library he took from his pocket greasy
pocketbook, and opening it laid the
contents ON his knee. His hand trem-
bled as he counted the notes over to
make sure they were all right-$1.6 600.
There was a sweep of dainty garments
along the hall, and Mrs. Eustice came
into the library. She gave slight start
upon recognizing her visitor, regarding
him not so much as the blacksmith,
whom she knew by sight at the shop,
but as the man who had bid against her
for g'anny's baby.
Il hear" said the man slowly, that
you're goin off to Europe. ="
Eyes, said the lady.
And they say that the baby amt so
we'll -
Eyes, that's true too. It's been all
ing all summer. What did you wish?"
Il was thinkin, - he said, THAT as
the whole transaction was n business
one-that, now being as you're goin
away, and the baby's sick, mebbe rs
You might be willin 10 sell. I'm ready
TO give you yer price. -
Mrs. Eustice was startled. She had
lamented that reckless squandering of
her money at the village auction more
than once; bat, according to herself, she
was honest.
''You ought to see the poor little
thing" she said Come, I'll show
her 10 you. "
Silently Sam Winters followed the
great lady to the nursery, where the
baby tossed in its little crib She's
had the best of doctors, - said Mrs. Eus-
tice, but don't believe anybody knows
what's the matter with her. D."
IN give you 81, 600," said the mar
huskily.
"Oh, dear mo-" cried the lady; that
wouldn't be fair. Why, doubt if she
lives till we return. l tell you what,
I'll take $500 if you are willing to run
the risk. It's outlandish, selling a
baby; but, then, you know, bought
her.
Winters counted out the money and
handed it over. He had not dared to
touch the baby that belonged to the
great lady, but after paying the $500
he stopped and patted the little flaming
face.
Down the richly carpeted steps,
through the broad hall, out into the park
and ON along the pike fastened the man
with his precious bundle, his $500 baby.
He did not go 10 the blacksmith shop
or the bachelor quarters behind it, but
directly to that little whitewashed cot
tage where lived the old woman who
had been rescued from the poorhouse.
He went into the house and laid the
baby on the bed.
Granny, he called softly, Gran
nyr'
She came in slowly from the kitchen.
shading her old eyes.
Don't you think You kin nurse lit
tie baby till she's well?"
The old woman fell ON her knees be-
side the bed, she gathered the baby
close in her arms, she swayed to and fro
as if she were rocking it. The apathy
had vanished from her face; it was as
glad as sunshine.
''I'll nuss her till she gifts well, " she
sobbed, "or we'll die together
Six months had passed away. 1t was
ON beautiful afternoon in the spring
time All the roses in Two Hills were
abloom. a carriage drawn by two
splendid bays came Gathering up the
village street. The great people had re-
turned.
Sitting in the doorstep Of little
cottage was small yell
low haired girl. She was swinging her
feet and singing at the top Of her voice.
Above her the red roses trailed them
selves luxuriously.
The lady looked out and waved her
hand and smiled. The child stopped
singing and stared.
''She doesn't know me, said the
great lady, with half sigh and laugh.
But the yellow haired girl rose from
the doorstep with alacrity, ran into the
cottage and laid her head in the old
lap, hiding her face.
I'm g'anny's baby, she sobbed.
The old woman heard the carriage
wheels and the gathering horses She
passed her hand tenderly over the rufled
yellow head
Eyes, deary, she said fondly, land
her amt never goin to be sol no more.