The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1898-06-15
Old Maids Love Affair
ny JAMES BucKHAM.

four, five bebby probly too. All
bet dat mans left dat bebby, sehl''
81 shouldn't WONDER" replied Ma
than Drew. "Shiftless chap Camp
ing down on my property with
out even asking permission and using
my lumber shanty, stove and wood!
I'm glad he's gone, but 1 wish he'd
taken his hull blame brood with him.
The young un II prob'ly grow up jest
like the rest of 'em, lazy and wuth-
less!"
"Ah heard say" continued the lit
tie Frenchman, "dat mans Hinglish-
man, good family, but not ver' strong
for work. Los heez health an 'bliged
for take to de woods. No money-no
health-big family. All guess ah'll
do bout same ting as him, bah gosh,
If all get too much bebby"
Don't doubt it, Alphonse," re-
joined the farmer. '"That's jest the
sort of critter you be and yer hull
Canuck tribe"
Alphonse grinned appreciatively and
took no offence. Then silence fell
upon the three men until the last
crumb and drop of their MONDAY lunch
had disappeared.
Abigail tenderly laid the baby down
in the grass while she gathered to-
gether the dishes and napkins and re-
packed them in the basket. Her
brother stood over her, watching. He
was a spare, d-faced, iron-gray
man, who showed by every line and
feature the absence of sentiment in
his makeup. The woman's hands
trembled as she worked. She knew
he was about to say something con-
cerning the child. Presently he
spoke:
"You kin keep that young un jest
two days, Abigail. Then, if there
don't nobody come to claim it, am
goin' to take it to the Founding Hos
pital." Having thus delivered him
self, he shouldered his pitchfork and
walked determinedly away.
Tears obscured the homeward path
of the little woman as she struggled
through the shimmering sunlight with
the infant on her arm. She knew that
her brother would be turned from his
purpose neither by argument nor by
entreaty. He had spoken, and that
was an end of 1.-THE inhexible ulti-
matum of that old Puritan bred tyr
amy that survives in 80 many heads
of New England households.
But, though the path was blurred,
it took her home-the only home she
had ever known, the roof under which
she had been born and reared and
which had descended to her elder
brother when their parents died.
fastening to the pantry, she took milk
and warmed it for the babe. half stu
petied by starvation. Then, clumsily,
yet with woman's instinct, she spar
ingly fed the child with spoons few
drops at time. AS life came back to
the little body with nourishmont, the
baby cried weakly, and Abigail
strained it to her bosom, while tears
of mingled Joy and pity rained down
upon the little head. What pretty
child it was, despite its suffering!
What clear, white skin; what lit
tie, pointed, dimpled chin; what blue,
blue eyes; what breadth of forehead
and Iullness OF temple; what dainty
little hands; what soft, sweet neck
for nesting mothers lips!
For two days Abigail Drew lived in
the awful Joy of one who drains the
nectar from cup which, when
emptied, must be dashed to earth.
She tried to put away the thought that
she and that little baby girl must part
She tried to make those two precious
days heaven enough for all of life.
She tried, with all the dutifulness and
reverence of her nature, to bow to her
brothers will and be content. But
every hour the whisper in her heart
grew stronger and more insistent--
"Cleave to the child. Keep her, cher
ish her. She is yours, a gift of God,
the answer to your lifelong prayer. "
At last she went to her brother and
poured out her heart with an intensity
of passion he had never suspected in
that quiet, reserved, meekly subser-
Went sister of his. But, although
surprised and disturbed, Nathan Drew
was not moved. His heart remained
obdurate. To him the thought of O
founding child in the house was un,
endurable. Never lover of children,
always convinced in his own hear
that childlessness was the more
blessed state. how could he be ex
pected to look with favor upon al
adopted baby, child concerning
whose anfecedents and propensitiel
one knew absolutely nothing? Mol h,
would not hear to it. To the Found
ling Hospital at Mayaeld the little
waif must go.
Towards evening of the last day o
her probation Abigail Drew began I,
gather together certain little treasures
of her heirlooms. Her mother
Bible, the laces left her by Aunt Ju
dith, an old-fashioned watch ant
chain, six silver spoons, worn as thil
. as paper--these, and few othe
things, she wrapped in bundle; ant
then, taking baby and bundle in he
arms, she went ont, closing the kitchen
door reverently and softly behind her