Activate Javascript or update your browser for the full Digital Library experience.
Next Page
OCR
&
- it be? and what could it
=e “4 RU iy
XG
VoL. VIII.
JAMES ELVERSON,
Publisher,
AND GIRL:
ts uh ia UML a ti
{Entered sccorting to Act of aa im the year 1887, vay a siveunon in the Office of the Librarian of Congrevs, at Washington, D. 0.)
N.W. corner NINTH
and SPRUCE Sts.
PHILADELPHIA, “APRIL 380, 1887.
$3.00 Per ANNUM,
TERMS: 3 "iy ADVANCE.
No. 22.
IN SEARCH or HIMSELF.
A Tale of Dangerous Adventlre,
BY GEORGE H. COOMER,
AUTHOR OF “ARTHUR SUMMERS,” ETC.
CHAPTER I.
A SURPRISING DISCOVERY.
It was a wild, windy night in October,
and young Mrs. Weston,
in her cottage by the
Schuylkill, had retired to
bed with a feeling of ex-
treme depression. True,
she was not alone in the
house, for it had other
inmates — kind hearts,
ready to protect and com-
fort—but she was alone
in spirit. Only a few
weeks had passed since
she had laid her sweet
baby boy asleep forever,
and it was of him that
she was thinkin
Tler husband, ‘ageafar-
ing man, had chanced tu
be at home at the time
of the baby’s death,
which he took very
hard, but he was now
absent upon a short
Yo!
The clock struck ele-
yen, and soon afterwards
Mrs. Weston imagined
that she heard upon the
back piazza a sound as of
a cautious footfall, and
her mind reverted to bur-
glars. She thought in-
stantly of aswarthy for-
gigner who-had that very
day called at the house,
on some business relating .
to pictures. e had
glanced about him, she
felt, in a stealthy, prying
manner, and had certain-
asked more questions
than were called for un-
der the circumstances.
Once or twice more she
heard slight sounds which
hardly seemed to be made
by the wind or the rust-
ling leaves; but as they
presently ceased, she
chile etl for her
timidi
Bate Nark ! Was it not
really a baby’s ery that
she heard? Where could
mean? She hastily light-
eda lamp, threw on “her
dress, and -then, trem-
bling’ with a nameless
emotion, proceeded to call
up the other inmates of
the dwelling. No one of
them could account for
the crying, which still con-
tinued, and which was evi-
dently within the house,
It was one of
startling tneidents ima-
ginable—a house in-
L
i
x
night.
and alarm; but her
ting-room.
kitchen, and thither
|
tf
on
“BUT IT WAS TOO LATE FOR REGRETS,
yaded by an unknown baby at dead of
Mrs. Weston was full of amazement
forced by the presence of her husband’s
parents and_ brother
dressed as they were, met her in the sit-
The cries appeared to
made their way, the two men in advance,
with their trembling companions bring:
ing up the rear.
“THello!” exclaimed the elder of the
courage was rein-
‘om, who, half-
roceed from the
the investigators
whelming.
erying baby ea
“Oh,
7m
party, holding up his light.
ngs! Look th
Ie '$ a baby, sure enough !’”
They gathered in a semicircle about, the
innocent little wonder, young Mrs. V
ton’s face being as white as
cap; for she thought of her own darling,
and’ her confused emotions were over-
The baby lay in a delicate little basket,
erying piteously, and kicking as only a
you littie darling!’ Mrs. Weston
said, coming up and kissing the sweet |
“Well, of all | face, all covered with innocent tears—
look there! “oh, you little darling
Then she took the ttle one in her arms
and held it close, as if afraid it might be
| spirited away as unaccountably as it had
here—just
Ves-
the baby’s
othe fastenings of the door and win-
dows underwent examination ; but they
were all as they had been left in the even-
ing when the household retired.
“Tshould think Santa Claus must be
around,” said Tom, yonly it is rather
early in the season for him
“Tt certainly is very strange that every-
ANOTHER MOMENT AND RALPH CAME RUSHING INTO THE ROOM.
AN =!
\\
\
Z|
thing should be
found fastened as
we left it,’ re-
marked his fa-
ner,
But all this
while, young
Mrs. Weston held
the little creature
close to her heart, and it ceased erying,
nestling its go olden head upon her
breast.
a_boy baby, apparently about
eight months old, an he very pic-
ture of infant health. There was nothing
peculiar about the baby garments ; they’
were simply clean and tasteful, but bore
no mark which could Bive a clew to the
identity of the wea
Next day the little ‘stranger became
