The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-12-12

too. could not make up her mind to part
with il.
The day went by, and the next day fol-
lowed with little change. Mrs. Derricks
neighbors were very kind to her for a day
or two, sending her milk for the baby and
all sorts of unexpected presents, so that as
Harry said, they really had more Christ
mas things than they ever had In their
lives before. And didn't tell you, moth
err" he concluded triumphantly, "that the
Christ-Child would send us presents?"
But Mrs. Derrick turned away with a
tear in her eye. She had already grown
fond of the little waif and stray, but she
did not know how to make up her mind
to keep it. 1t was serious undertaking
another mouth to feed, and IL the baby
remained unclaimed, another child to
clothe, and maintain. In justice to her own
children she felt that she ought not to do
1t, and yet 1t seemed very hard to send
this lovely baby TO be turned into a COM
mon workhouse child.
In a weeks time the constable again
knocked at the widows door.
well, misis," he said, and how's the
kid? We have had bills out saying that
il was found, but we have had no in
4uiries. Those that owned it have their
own reasons for wanting to get rid of it,
l expect, so you'd best made up your
mind what to do. Are you going to keep
it or not?"
Mrs. Derrick was thankful that Harry
was not there.
Il should like to keep it," she said,
thoughtfully, but | don't know that /
can. 1t is hard work to make ends meet
with only the two children, and If there
were three, l think we should starve."
The workhouse is the best place for It,"
said the constable.
Mrs. Derrick sighed. Before she could
make up her mind to answer, little Katie
put in an appealing word.
Mummy" she said, IF the Christ-Chlld
sent the baby to us, don't you think He
meant us to keep It? L should think He
wouldn't like US sending ii away"
Perhaps that is true" said Mrs Der
rick in tone of deep feeling. Perhaps
il was God who sent the child to my
door, and if He did, it doesn't seem right
TO let it SO to the workhouse. He that
sent it will provide for it. Thank you.
constable, / have decided. l will keep
the baby. 1t is a Christmas present, as
the children say, and il is not the right
thing TO throw gift away" She smiled
through tears as she concluded, and held
the baby more closely to her breast. THE
coming of the child may bring us happi-
ness" she thought to herself, "as the COM
ing of the Child of Bethlehem brought
peace and good will into the world"
We'll, I'm blowed!' was the constable's
ejaculation, as he turned to leave the cot
tage. But on second thoughts he faced
round again. My missis would have
done The same" he said. "She told me
so when 1 mentioned the baby TO her, ana
if ever you want it off your hands,
ma am, you'd better tip her the word be-
fore you send it to the poorhouse."
He was gone, and Mrs. Derrick was left
with Katie and the child 1t was a relief
to her to feel that she would not have
to announce the baby's departure to Harry
nn hN fear in
she was going 10 make ends meet, and
earn sufficient for herself and the three
children, she hardly knew.
But she was not called upon to solve the
problem after all. When few weeks had
elapsed, her friend, the burly constable,
called again in company with tall man,
whose STOPPING shoulders and anxious face
told of cares and troubles which were al
most more than he could bear And 1t
was in a hesitating, yet rather pompous
voice, that the constable introduced him.
we think we have found the baby's IA
Their, Mrs Derrick-at least this gentle
man lost his baby in queer sort of way
last Christmas eve. We think il must be
the same one as was brought TO your door
1t was an old servant with a spite against
the family that stole the child, but she
has confessed what she did and how she
took the baby away from it's own home
and laid IL at your door, without knowing
or caring whether there was anybody in
side the house that would look after it.7
Mrs. Derrick rose and exhibited the baby.
and the babys clothes, which were in
stantly identified. But her heart sank at
the thought of parting with the child
1t Is you that | have to thank for your
care of my child" said the tall man. TAX
ing the infant tenderly into his arms. BE
leve me, my wife and / will never be able
to repay" but the words died upon his
Inns l.. rNrag Oh. .tasI.A
Derrick's face instead of at the sleeping
child whom he had taken from her rs il
possible?" he cried. Mary, can II be
your"
And she herself answered with trembling
lips, but with a certain dignity, Yes,
Robert 1t Is !. But 1 thought that, like
the rest of my family, you had abandoned
me-"
"You were very much mistaken, then. "
he answered quickly. "Why, my dear cous-
in, 1 have sought for you everywhere on
hearing of your poor husbands death.
Why did you not let me know what be-
came of you? / am sure you have had a
hard time of it! To think that IL was you
who saved my little child from starvation
or a workhouse life And these are your
children. You must get on your things
and come home with me at once My wife
would never forgive me II / did not bring
you back Thanks to your care OF the
child, we have found you at last and we
shall never lose sight of you again."
He kept his word, and in all the years
of advancing happiness and prosperity
that followed for herself and her children,
Mary Derrick's heart was kept soft and
tender by the RENE m brance of that Christ
mas g3ft which the Christ-child had
brought most surely to her door, and which
for the sake of her childrens faith, she
had not turned away.
Cine End)