The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1908-10-14

had possessed an unusual evenness of
health and disposition. No matter
how bitter the drafts roared through
the little rectory, Master Baby never
caught cold. Whooping-cough and
measles, scarlet fever, even might
sweep the village; baby smiled on un-
scathed.
Baby's character, also, was one of
indomitable cheerfulness. In little
parish in northern New York there
may be other anxieties than the high
price of coal and beefsteak; but ve3-
tries, choirs and diocesan appropria-
tions fretted baby no more than did
the coming of lower tooth. He gur-
gled and crowed and patty -caked,"
and found life at one year old de-
lightful thing. 1t was well for tho
minister's girl-wife that he did.
A warm-hearted Kentuckian, Doris
found other things than the weather
cold in this Northern village. Two
years before she had come here with
her husband, fifteen years her senior.
with such high thoughts of being help
full to his people. But the people
were so difficult for her to understand,
these farmers who toiled so hard,
these women who lived in their kitch-
ems, and who obviously did not wish
her to drop in on them in the morn
ings. Only three or four times in two
years had Doris been invited out to
meal. Much oftener than that had
she entertained the parishioners at
little suppers, where they sat silent
and critical, and would not touch her
Maryland biscuit. Somehow the
thought of the Maryland biscuit ran
kled. Two years of disappointment
they had been for Doris, her girlish
impulsiveness growing slowly chilled.
Yet Doris was plucky To the min
ister serious, dull, utterly unselfish,
she seemed the blithest little wife in
the world. 1t was only to the baby
she talked, and that only because he
could not understand.
They were sitting, mother and baby,
by the uncurtained front window,
looking down the snowy village street.
They were dressed for company. Both
dresses had come out of the last mis-
sionary box. Doris wore a heavy
black silk, which had evidently be-
longed, in its previous existence, to
some stout matron, for all Doriss
skill could not alter it to semblance
of her slender figure; the gown still
bulged and billowed hopelessly. Baby
frock. Doris could not resist the
dainty embroidery, and she had some
how squeezed the fat little body into
the sheer muslin, and baby had CUR
gled so uproariously at the process
that he had burst out two buttonholes
at once.
1t still lacked half an hour Of train
time. Doris was talking to the baby
Her voice was rich and sweet, full OF
rising infections and slurred conso-
nants not expressible by print.
do you-all know why you're so
dressed up, son? The bishop is COM
ing to see you. He only comes once
in two years, you know, and you'll be
q big boy when he comes again. He's
a very great man, baby. He writes
books, and we sing his hymns
in church. He's known all over
the world. He's been entertain
ed by Queen Victoria, and now
he's going to be entertained by
us! o baby, I'm so afraid of him
I'd like to run down cellar and hide!
Mothers naughty girl, baby; seems
like she don't feel much like having
company, anyway"
Doris rocked silently, gazing down
the wintry street, looking south, to-
ward Kentucky. "The bishop is right
old, l reckon. | wonder IL ne looks
like grandpa. baby. Baby, say grand
pa. Say it,"
"Ga-ga-ga-ga!" replied the dutiful
son.
20 baby, l wish grandpa could see
you. l wish | could take you to him.
want him to see you now. But we'll
never have money enough, never. 1t
would take fifty dollars; it s so far
away. It's spring there; they're
planting now. Oh, If | could only see
our place and all our folks, and pa,
seems like | could come back and not
be blue!" There came gust of tears,
quickly mopped away on baby's petit
coats. 81 mustn't get my eyes red,
with company coming
The train wheezed and trembled,
tugging along the up grade of the
branch read. For thirty miles it ap-
peared to stop at every cross-road, to
stop long enough, too, for the train
men to get off and clap their arms to
their bodies for warmth, and below
out to the station hangers-on above
the rattle of the milh-cans.
There was only half car for pas
sengers; the other half was for bag
gage. The passenger section was
cold. The car seats were springless,
and jolted numerically. The bishop
knew he should be stiff on the NOR
row. and even now draft from the
rattling window started twinge in
his right shoulder.