The marshal eyed each and every one of them, irrespective of
position, condition or age, with a gleam so accusing that the Godliest
of them flushed and then turned cold. So knowing were these equitable
looks that before night every woman in the village was constrained to
believe the worst of her neighbour, and almost as ready to look with
suspicion upon herself.
One thing was certain--business was at a standstill in Tinkletown. The
old men forgot their chess and checker games at the corner store; young
men neglected their love affairs; women forgot to talk about each other;
children froze their ears rather than miss any of the talk that went
about the wintry streets; everybody was asking the question, "Whose baby
is it?"
But the greatest sensation of all came late in the day when Mrs. Crow,
in going over the garments worn by the babe, found a note addressed to
Anderson Crow. It was stitched to the baby's dress, and proved beyond
question that the strange visitor of the night before had selected not
only the house, but the individual. The note was to the point. It said:
"February 18, 1883.
"ANDERSON CROW: To your good and merciful care an unhappy creature
consigns this helpless though well-beloved babe. All the world
knows you to be a tender, loving, unselfish man and father. The
writer humbly, prayerfully implores you to care for this babe as
you would for one of your own.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61