Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 September 1875 — Our Young Folks. [ARTICLE]

Our Young Folks.

AS WE GO ALONG.

BY MARY C. BARTLETT.

Dick and Dora were traveling Westward. It was before the days (the~nights, rather) of sleeping-cars; and being determined to go “ straight through,”.as Dick said at starting, they were not a little fatigued when the darkness of the second night gathered about them. But, though fatigued, they were by no means out of sorts. They were thoroughly posted as to the changes of their journey; they knew they were right; all that they desired was to proceed as rapidly as Dora looked smilingly around upon the drowsy passengers “Do see that old lady, Dick,” said she, with a smothered laugh. “ Her head bobs about like the tail of Ned’s kite. ThereJ she’s down at last. No, she isn’t, either. Oh!” Here the old lady in question straightened herself and looked severely around, as if to reprove all who had even suspected her of an inclination to slumber. Happening to glance toward our young friends, she encountered two pairs of bright eyes. The eyes tried to be polite, but they could not help being truthful. They seemed to say: “We did laugh. We could not help it. We cannot help it now.” The old lady could not help it, either. Such a hearty, cosy little laugh as it was all round w’hen she had set the example! “Lucky for us old people that our necks are insured,” said she, cheerily? “and lucky for us that we can’t see ourselves as others see us. Heads bobbing about like the tail of Ned’s kite, eh?” “ Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Dora, with crimson cheeks. “I didn’t know you heard.”

“ Don’t worry yourself in the least, my dear. I’m going to try it again. If you can get any fun out of this poor old head you're heartily welcome to it, I’m sure. You’ll need all you can get before morning—l can tell you that.” “We shall soon be ‘bobbing around, around, around’ ourselves,” laughed Dick. ; “ So you will. Wish I could keep awake to see; but I can’t. Good-night to you. Pleasant dreams.” Dora arose from her seat and walked toward the old lady, taking her long shawl with her. “ Mother would make me bring this,” said she, ignoring the deprecating gesture. “I don’t know why, I’m sure, for we have my water-proof and Dick’s overcoat besides. It will make a capital pillow for you. Will you let me arrange it?” The old lady demurred, but Dora insisted, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the guay head no longer bobbing and bowing, but reposing peacefully and quietly. “ She’s sound asleep now,” she said thankfully to Dick. “ And she wouldn’t be ashamed to own it, either.” At this moment the sound of the whistle announced that they were near a station, and soon afterward there was the hurry and bustle of departures and arrivals. Among the latter was a plainly-dressed woman, who carried upon one arm a heavy traveling-bag, and upon the other a baby, who was screaming at the top of its little voice. “Dear me!” yawned Dora. “I was just thinking of taking a nap. How provoking!” “Jf I’m ever old enough to vote I’ll go for a law to make the women keep their babies at home,” said Dick, savagely. “What a public-spirited, benevolent man he will be!” laughed Dora, pretending to smooth the wrinkles in his forehead with her plump hand. “Nonsense! But do hear that rascally baby!” “ I think he’s sick,” said Dora, compassionately. “ It’s a girl, and she’s no more sick than you are. I wish you’d go over and inquire how r long she intends to keep up that screeching, because a fellow can’t—” Dora didn’t wait for him to finish the sentence. To his intense surprise, she arose and walked down the aisle as steadily as was possible.

Dick watched her anxiously as she talked with the baby’s mother. Once or twice, as he caught her eye, he beckoned eagerly, imploring her. with frantic gestures, to return, but Dora paid no heed. When, at last, she turned to come back he saw, to his infinite horror, that she was bringing the “ rascally baby” with her. He was really angry now, and he took no pains to conceal it. “If that baby’s going to stay here, I'm not," said he, crossly, wrapping his overcoat about him. “ Where are you going?” “ Into another- car. I’ll find you in the morning. Good-night." He would have been off, but Dora laid a coaxing hand upon his shoulder. “Just wait a minute, Dick; I want to tell you something. I thought I’d take the baby awhile, because the mother has & dreadful headache, and ” “No wonder,” interrupted Dick, making a hideotfs face, at the screaming child. “ Listen to me. This baby hasn’t had a thing to eat since four o’clock.” “ Why in the world don’t you give it something, then?” cried Dick’, making a furious dive for the lunch-basket. “ What a gooSe* you are, Dick! Don’t you she that she hasn’t a tooth in her head! What she wants is milk, with a little warm water in it. and sugar enough to sweeten it just a little. That’s-all she eats.” “ Who told you so much ?” “Her mother.” < “ I knew ’twas a girl the minuteT heard her voice. I told you so,” said Dick, a slight shade of triumph mingling with his vexation. “They've been traveling two days,” continued Dora-, ignoring Dick’s last remark, “ and the mother tried to get some milk at C——. She gave her bottle to one of the table-girls there, but tpe cars wouldn’t wait until she’d filled it .1L “Of course not,” growled Dick. “ Just like a woman to expect a. whole train of cars to stop for a bottle of milk.” “So she had to come on without it. And, oh, Dick! won’t you try to get just a Itttle at the nextstopping-place?” “ Me?” inquired Dick, in amazement. “ You can take our mug. The bottle’s lost, you know. She’ll have to do the best she can with this.” “Me!” repeated Dick, incredulously. “ Yes, you. Don’t you know what Aunt Ruth says about doing good as we go along ? We can pretend we’re missionaries—Aomz missionaries, you know.” “Well, give me the mug. Anything to stop this noise?’ The cars stopped. Dick rushed out, mug in hand. Stopping the first man he met in the station, he made his modest request t “ Here! Fill this, please.” “ What with ?t*, “ Milk, with a little warm water, and

just sweetening enough to sugar it. The baby’s starving. Lost its bottle at C . Hasn’t had a thing to eat—drink, I mean —for hours.” “ Wq haven’t a drop,” replied the man. “I’m sorry, but you come too late." “ Couldn’t come any sooner,” replied Dick, “and I must have it. Be quick, please, or I shall be late." “ No danger of that,” said another man, reassuringly;/.* they wait fifteen minutes here. Giv eme the cup, and I’ll go over to Joe Fellerses’. His baby’s sick since Tuesday, and it’s likely they’ll be up messin’?’! reckon they’ll have a drop or two to spare." It was not without misgiving that Dick gave Dora’s pretty mug into the stranger’s hand. 4< “If it’s gone, it’s gone,” he thought to himself. “It can’t be helped, and there’s no use in worrying.” So he contented himself with looking after the man as long as he could see him, and resolved to wait as patiently as possible until the signal sounded. “ How old is your baby?” asked one of the men. “ Oh, I don’t know. It’s a very young one.” “ Ever traveled with it before?” asked the man, curiously. “ No, indeed!” replied Dick, with flushing cheeks. “ Its mother’s in the car.” “ Take my advice and leave it at home next time. Travelin’ never agrees with these little fellers.” Dick’s eyes fairly blazed. “ ’Tisn’t mine!” he roared savagely. Then, suddenly remembering how kindly these men had interested themselves in his behalf, he added, more gently: “Its mother had a headache, so I came.” Just then Dick’s rejoicing eyes spied the man who had taken the mug coming quickly toward him. “ Here’s your cup, you youngster,’’ said he. “ Joe Fellerses’ wife wouldn’t use it Here’s a bottle that’ll just fit a baby’s mouth —it’s one her Johnny’s outgrowed. She’s glad enough to help all the babies along, for the sake ot that poor little man of her’n.”

“I’m very much obliged,” said Dick, heartily ashamed of his late misgivings, and fumbling in his pocket for some change. “Bless your soul, she don’t want any pay. Don’t stop for that. If that little feller of yours is as hungry as you make out, the sooner you get back to him the better, ” * Dick thought so too. He was hurrying from the station when a woman entered, accompanied by a girl apparently about thirteen years old. He would have rushed past them, but the woman spoke: “Goin’ on this train?” Yes.’’ “How fur?” “ To L replied Dick. “ There’s just where this child wants to go. Now, couldn’t you just look after her a little? She won’t be no trouble.” Dick looked at the “ child.” He saw’ an aw’kward, ungainly figure, clad in garments of coarse texture and queer, unbending hues. He saw a pale, thin face, in which a pair of sore eyes seemed to be the fearfully prominent features. They were not pleasant to look upon. He shivered. “She’s goin’ there to be doctored,” continued the w’oman. “You see, her aunt she lives in L , and she thinks her doctor can help her eyes. I can’t go with her, and she’s an awful scary child—’fraid of her shadder. Her aunt’ll meet her at the depot; but if you’ll just let her sit somewhere nigh you and speak a word to her now and then on the way ” “What if I had such eyes as those!” thought Dick. “ I’ll do it,” said he aloud, grasping his bottle a little tighter. “ She can come along with me. We must hurry up. There’s the bell.” “Good-by, Marietta,” called the woman, as they left the station. “Be a good girl. There’s nothing to be afeared of. Remember that.” Dick found Dora anxiously awaiting him. “ Where have you been? and where did you get this?” she cried, seizing the bottle and putting it to the lips of the poor, tired baby, who drank eagerly. “ Joe Fellerses’ wife sent it to you with her compliments.’’ “ She’s a good woman, whoever she is,” said Dora, earnestly; “but-—” (dropping her voice) “who on earth have you there, Dick?” as he motioned to the girl to take a seat just behind them. “That!” replied Dick carelessly, in a low tone. “ That’s Marietta.” “Who’s Marietta?” “ Our new fellow-passenger.” “ What’s the matter -with her eyes ?” “They’re sore.” “ 1 should think so, poor thing. Where did you pick her up ?” “At the station. She’s going to L with us. We’re to take care of her.”

“ 0—h!” groaned Dora. “ Don’t you know what Aunt Ruth says about doing good as we go along?” inquired Dick, calmly. “ But such a large girl! Can’t she take care of herself?” “She’s timid —afraid of her shadder." “She won’t be likely to see her shadder here.” “We can pretend we’re missionaries—home missionaries,” said Dick, cheerfully. “I should prefer a good, wholesomelooking heathen for a traveling-compan-ion,” sighed Dora. “We can’t have everything to please us,” said Dick, pompously. “ How quiet that child is!” “Of course she is. All she wanted was something to eat. See! she’s almost asleep—the little darling!” . “You must have been cut out for a missionary,” laughed Dick. “Your little heathen does you credit” “ That’s more than I can say for yours,” retorted Dora, glancing over her shoulder at the new passenger. The poor girl was sitting with her back to the light, shading her eyes with one slender hand. Dora turned quickly. *‘ Dick Wilson!” she exclaimed. “ Take this baby, piease. I’m going to talk with Marietta.” “Well, put her down easy, so that a fellow can get a good hold.” “Don’t go to sleep and drop her,” was Dora’s parting injunction. j She took the seat behind Marietta, that the poor weak eyes might not encounter the glare of the blazing lamp. She spoke kindly to her, asking her a few questions in such a tone of interest that the girl’s shyness melted away at last, and she became communicative. What Dora learned of her circumstances she told Dick early the next morning, almost with tearful eyes. “ She wants so much to go to school, Dick, but she can’t, She can’t read or sew, and she has towear blue glasses when' the sun is very bright” “She sleeps well,” replied Dick, who pitied the poor girl from the bottom of his heart, but didn’t know how to say so. “ I’m so glad she’s with us, Dick, because, you see, people don’t always take

pains to speak io girls when they look dis agreeably." “So am I." v “Wasn’t it strange that neither of us knew when the baby’s mother came and took hrt - ?” “ I dreamed that somebody was thanking me for something. That’s all I knew about it.” “They’re both asleep now,” yawned Dora, looking toward them; “and so is our old lady. Do you know, Dick, I’m almost sorry the daylight’s coming—l’m Dick never heard the rest of that sentence, but he rather thought the word was “ sleepy.” « They were both bright and wide awake, however, when, a few hours afterward, the cars reached L- . The old lady bade them good-by with a hearty “God bless you!” The weary mother smiled her thanks, and the baby put out her little hands beseechingly to Dick as he passed. Friends were waiting forthem at the depot; but even Ur the first cordial greetings they did not forget their unfortunate companion. “ Her aunt isn’t here,” said Dora, anxiously. “ Yes, she is,” cried Dick: “ There she comes round that corner. She sees her.”' And they shouted acheerful “ good-by” to poor Marietta, who gave them a grateful smile as she disappeared from view. And then, tired and hungry as bears, but for some reason or other feeling very happy, they hurried away.—Nt. Nicholas for September.