Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1897-07-31
k, Go to bed and try to rest q lit.

| Saeir tender solicitude increased
Aor feeling Of guilt. Along toward
morning she fell asleep, but she W as
tormented by such awful dreams that
she was glad when they told her it was
time to get up.
A week passed, and in spite of the
efforts of the police the Slater baby
was still missing. Tillie had accom-.
plished her object. She had rid her.
self of her troublesome little relative,
but somehow his absence did not
bring the sense OF freedom she had
expected. The strike had been called
of, and she again helped Alice of her
own accord. But there wasn't much
to be done. Sewing was slack just
then, and all the duties pertaining to
the baby were no longer needed. She
had plenty of time to 60 visiting with
the girls, but she had no inclination
to improve her opportunity, and every
day she looked longingly at the high
chair which stood empty among the
roses and geraniums and carnations,
and wondered what had become Of
him. OF afternoons she went to the
park and sat on the bench where she
had left him in the chill of the coming
night. The picture of the baby as he
lay there was constantly before her,
and she cried out that her heart was
breaking. It was her first great sin,
and the punishment was terrible.
On the eighth day after Closing"
the baby Tillie walked dejectedly
through the park toward the fateful
spot. Her head was bent, and she
did not raise her eyes from the ground
till near the familiar bench. Then
she stopped short with q cry of alarm
and rubbed her eyes to make sure she
was awake. Yes, she was right; she
had lost her mind indeed, for there on
that self-same bench, dressed in the
same pink frock, and lying in the
same attitude, in the same corner, was
the despised baby.
Her heart gave mighty bound as
though it would jump clear out Of her
mouth.
"He's dead, and that's his ghost"
she cried, family; "but I'm going to
look at his pretty face once more,
anyway"
A moment later she stood beside
him, and in another instant Hiram
Stewart, in flesh and blood, not in
spirit, was clasped in her strong
young arms.
"My darling, darling baby" she
sobbed. II love you; indeed I do"
There was note pinned to his
dress. It was addressed to her. She
opened it and read as follows:
"On the afternoon of June 25 an old
man who was resting in the shadow
of clump of bushes in Lincoln park
heard little girl saying some very
cruel things to a baby. Among other
things she threatened to 'lose' him.
The old man was sorely grieved at
that, and after the little girl had run
away he went over and sat on the
bench beside the sleeping boy. It
was dark when the baby awoke and
sat up and looked around him. He
was chilled and hungry, and frightened
at the lonesome stiffness, and if the
little girl could have heard his pitiful
crying she would have vowed never to
lose him again, but to love him
dearly.
"The old man took him home. He
soon learned, through the newspapers,
to whom the child belonged. He made
n trip to Roseberry row aud told the
little girls brother and sister o few
things, and they decided it would be
we'll to bring the little girl to her
senses. The old man has given the
child the best of care. He would like
to keep him always, but there are
others who have . better claim. He
is yours henceforward."
There was no name signed to the
letter. Tillle looked all around for the
old man, who, she thought, must be
near, but he had disappeared as mys-
as he had come the day she
"lost" the baby.
Tillie clasped Hiram's chubby arms
round her neck and pressed him close
to her heart. She went straight to
row.
'T've found him, Alice" she said,
simply. "You know all about it. I'm
sorry. The strike is over, Alice, and
IL you don't let me work my fingers
to the bone now, I'll never forgive
you. Chicago Record.