The Monitor-register., 1896-10-09
and earnestly at the laughing baby face

and earnestly at the laughing baby face
of her child"
"Do you want me to, dear ?'' she asked,
tearfully. Do you want me to take a
noisy. troublesome boy into this home ?
Is it an idol, darling, my wanting every.
thing SO quiet and orderly ?"
Ten minutes later she was back at her
washing. The parlor blinds were closed,
and all things as they had been, except
ing Mrs. Busby's eyes; there was a new
light in their gray depths. AT half.past
nine the clean clothes were on the line.
Returning from hanging them out, Mrs.
Busby found a neighbor, Mr.. Vance, at
the door.
"Ive been down to the station" he
said, "and the eight O'Clock train brought
a baby for you, or Busby rather"
"A whatP" demanded Mrs. Busby,
catching her breath.
"a baby" 1t was plain to be seen
that Mr.. Vance was enjoying the situa.
tion. ga woman who was going east on
a visit brought it from Kansas. Said it
belonged to some of Busby's folks. She
left it in the care of the ticket agent, and
he sent it over by me. It's down the
road in my wagon, and a trunk, too. The
little fellow has cried ever since the
woman left him."
Mrs. Busby took down her green girg-
ham sunbonnet and prepared to follow
him out to the wagon without a word.
"Was you expecting it )" Mr.. Vance
asked. somewhat disappointed at her
quietness.
"Not to day." she replied briefly.
cit was a plump, but tear. stained little
face that met her gaze. There were
great blue eyes, a rosy mouth, and closely
curling yellow hair. But the child was
Enthusiastically dirty, and began crying
again in a piteous fashion.
Mrs. Busby held up her arms. Come
to auntie, DEAR" she said coaxingly,
"Yoa van some bread and milk, don't
you, and to see the dear little chickens ?"
At the same leisurely gait of the morn.
ing Mr.. Busby again traversed the path
from the barn to the house. Mirandy's
line of snowy clothes drying in the sun
brought to his mind the conversation of
the morning, but he expected no refer
ence to it from his wife. A surprise
awaited him. The table was laid for
throo and OF tho U,,aot3o Dlooo z
clumsy little high chair that for twenty
years had stood empty in an upper room.
And on the floor sat a happy. faced child,
surrounded by clothes pins, empty
bottles, a disused candlestick, and a little
collection of impromptu playthings.
"Who, who is that, Mirandy ?"
"Joey Hale Busby," was Miranda's
prompt reply, and picking up the child,
she put it in her husbands arms. "There,
Joey, dear, make friends with Uncle
Joseph. He is the dearest little fellow"
she went on, $50 cunning, and not a bit
afraid"
but l don't understand" and Joseph
Busby's arms closed tenderly around the
little orphan.
The story was soon told.
"Of COURSE, we'll keep him." Mrs.
Busby said by the way of conclusion.
"Dinner is ready, and the green peas and
custard pie will taste good to little Joey.
l guess you were right bout my idols,
Joseph" stopping to fasten a towel
around the child's neck in lieu of a bib,
''but they are oVerthrown. Now Ill try
and not make an idol of joey"
You are a remarkable woman, Miriam
dy," Nh. Busby said, wipipg his eyes.
Il have always said you was a remark
able woman, and Pm a little afraid 1 am
maxim an idol of you"