The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1895-02-02
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three seated wagon, in which we
bowled along slowly for further
distance of five miles to the Huyck
farm. Here the house and barns
nestled against the green hillside,
their messy roofs defended against
the pulsing heat by arching elms
and giant honey-locusts that grew
along the picket-fence.
LAND of love, l didn't expect you
for week yet" said the farmers
wife, as she came out to meet us;"but
get right out. I'll go and get you
some dinner, and this evening in the
cool, we'll drive over to Chester and
distribute them childrenW
That was all we'll enough-but how
about Baby McGlory7 | explained
that young mans status forthwith, and
asked advice about possible place
for him, while he hung upon me like
a necklace, and sleepily sucked his
thumb.
"Well now, | declared" and Mrs.
Huyck fixed beaming look of appro-
val on the little figure huddled up
against me; Il don't know-there's
Mis- Foster down to the Forks, she's
ben thinkin' of adopting ever sence
little Matte died But she wants a
girl. Foster wouldn't hear to no
boy!" For once in his life baby's sex
was against him.
"Never mind" said the good Mrs.
Huyck, as she saw the look of disap-
pointment in my face, IL got notion
the Blinkers would take him; we'll
think it over and drive up there this
evening"" After huge dinner, con-
Guiding with pie and cider, Baby Nc
Glory and l sought oblivion on the
slippery horse-hair sofa in the best
room, and the result of the matter
was that in "the cooP we were all
stuffed in the spring wagon, John
Peter, Emily Jane, and Sarah Susan,
filling in alleged interstices between
Mrs. Huyck and "Father," the matron
and me, to whom the baby still chung
with persistent content, jerking his
little head now and then with regu-
lar motion to encourage the progress
of the horses. We climbed long
hill-road through the sweet smelling
summer dusk, where the coming
night was full of far away mysterious
sounds, bedtime songs in the bushes
and tree toads calling from the swami
DIV hollows down below. Three little
awe struck hearts | knew were thrill
ed with the strange delights of the
ride, but Baby McGlory was the one
Indifferent occupant of the wagon,
being absorbed with his efforts to
push us all up the hill, now and then
removing his succulent thumb long
enough to thump an encouraging
"G'ap" on my shoulder.
1t was late when we toiled up
Blinker's Hill and turned into lane
that was hardly more than cart
track along an open field; but when
we drew up at last by the house door
we found there the entire tribe of
Blinkers. There were three long
legged theologues -the sons set aside
for the ministry-and the lad who
had been kept at home to mind the
farm, all stretched out on the grass,
evidently finishing cooling-off pro-
cess. Surely sons enough for any
household! The old man smoked
his evening pipe on the step, and
above him, on the porch, his wife was
creaking back and forth in a wooden
rocker. They took us right into the
kitchen, where there was light, and
table heaped with freshly gathered
clothes from the line gave forth a
clearly, pleasant odor. Two bird
cages hung in the window, and be-
meath stood sewing machine covered
with a red cloth. On the table where
the lamp stood was Bible, copy of
Jonathan Edwards's Sermons"
Farmers Almanac" and tidy
work basket. | took in at a glance
that here, ready at hand, was posi-
BILE future for Baby McGlory, if we
could only win it, of peace and plenty
cleanliness, and thrift. Could we
with such training outwit heredity."
The room seemed suddenly full of
people, and voices, and argument.
The long-legged theologues at once
rallied to the baby's side, and regard
ed our offer as very attractive one;
but Father Blinker frowned upon it
as piece of foolishness, which his
wife's radiant welcome of the little
stranger seemed to aggravate. Baby
McGlory's future seemed darkening
again, when he took the matter into
his own hands and settled things for
himself Mrs. Blinker had carried
him over to see the canaries. and they
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