The Pearl of Love: or, Josey's Gift

"Well," murmured Martin, after a pause, "we can't be kind enough to people after such an example as the Lord has set us."

The great clock on a neighboring church struck nine.

"They'll soon be home now," she added, springing to her feet, "I'll just bring my baby's cloak and hood from the closet, and have them ready."

"It's a fine night for a ride," said Ann, bringing Josey's coat and cap, and laying them on a chair. "Baby slept all the way into town, and I expect she'll sleep going home."

"You have to go nearly twice as far as we do. It's scarce six miles to Easton Parsonage; but then Mr. Matthews is a very careful driver; Mistress would like to ride faster than he drives; I wish we were going the same way!"

Every moment footsteps were listened for; but not till half-past nine did a carriage drive to the door. Then Aunt Fanny and Mrs. Reed ran up in a great hurry.

"Come, Ann," said Miss Fanny, hurriedly, "we're late and must be off in a minute. You put on your sack, and I'll dress Josey. Mrs. Reed has offered to put on baby's cloak and hood; and, Martin, you had better get on your bonnet, for the other carriage, with Mrs. Matthews and Mrs. Codman in it, will be here directly."

The two nurses ran to the back room, where they had taken off their outer garments, and in less than five minutes, Miss Fanny appeared with Josey asleep on her shoulder, and Nurse behind her with baby Emma, closely wrapped in her cloak and hood.

Mr. Codman cut short his wife's "good byes," by saying, —

"It will be midnight, wife, before we reach home;" so, with hasty adieux, they jumped into the carriage and drove off.

Mr. and Mrs. Matthews followed directly, turning down the opposite street, Martin screening her baby's face from the night air by a thin veil.

It was a bright, beautiful evening, but rather cool. Mr. Codman held Josey close to his breast; and his wife, with a warning to Ann to keep Emma well covered, began to talk earnestly about the sermon.

CHAPTER III.

THE WRONG BABY

In this way they rode on for four miles. "Almost half way," Fanny observed, as they passed the five corners; "I suppose Mr. and Mrs. Matthews are home by this time."

Just then, Josey awoke with a start and cry of alarm, which roused his sister, and made her open her eyes. Fanny, who sat opposite, pulled back her hood to quiet her, when, with a shriek, mamma cried out, —

"We've got the wrong baby! Oh, Nurse, you made a mistake! This is Mrs. Matthews' Rose. Husband, stop the driver, quick!"

"Are you sure?" asked papa, who had been taking a short nap.

"Sure? Can't I tell my own baby? Emma has black eyes; and, look for yourself, is this my baby's dress?"

"I see no difference, my dear."

"But, Frederick, it's awful, and every minute we're going farther away from our little darling."

"Well, my dear, if you are positive, we must turn back, but it is a great pity such a mistake was made."

"Mrs. Reed dressed both the babies," explained Aunt Fanny, trying to recover her senses, after the fright.

"And I only carried down the one she gave me," argued Ann, choking back a sob. "I saw it was our baby's cloak, and I never mistrusted the right one wasn't inside of it."

It was a difficult matter to make the driver comprehend that he was expected to go eight or ten extra miles to change babies.

"Why isn't one as good as t'other?" he asked, grumbling. "The horses 'll never go through with it, and at this time of night it's no use."

But Mr. Codman, who was now wide awake, and well understood the distress which agitated his wife, without the squeeze she was giving his hand, and her continual "Oh dear! Oh, my poor baby!" now said, firmly, —

"We wont waste words about it. We must go to Easton parsonage as quickly as possible."

"I'll take the short cut, then, across the moor. The moon is so bright I can keep out of the ruts."

"But then we lose the chance of seeing them. They may have found out the mistake earlier, and be on the way to meet us. Drive on!"

But driver still demurred, muttering that it was a bad job, and he couldn't be going over the ground four times without good pay.

"How much do you want for yourself?" asked the gentleman. "I hire the carriage by the month."

"A couple of dollars is little enough."

"I'll give you three; now drive on."

The carriage door shut with a snap, and they started off, driver lashing his horses with the whip.

"We must look out that they don't pass us," said the clergyman.

"I'll keep watch," responded Aunt Fanny, decidedly. "I wonder what Josey would say if he were awake?"

"If our driver had been a father," exclaimed Mrs. Codman, "he wouldn't have asked why one wouldn't do as well as t'other."

"Hem!" exclaimed Aunt Fanny, indignantly. "'Twouldn't have hurt the man to have heard your sermon to-night, brother. I don't think he's very kind, any way."

"He was probably at the ale-house, and had taken enough to make him cross."

"Had he heard you describe how God rewards our love to others by peace in our own hearts, he would have been more kind."

"Well, Fanny, be as tender in your thoughts as you can. It is hard for the man to lose three or four hours of his sleep."

"O, you always are ready to find excuses!" she answered, laughing.

"I ought to practise what I preach, oughtn't I?" He looked archly in her face.

"I hope Emma wont wake," said mamma, anxiously. "Little Rosa sleeps as quietly as a kitten. How strange that none of us noticed the change."

"It's no joke," said Fanny, though she could not help laughing.

They were going over a rough part of the road, and Josey, after growing restless, suddenly started up.

"Are we most home?" he asked in a sleepy tone.

"We'll get there by and by," answered his father, cheerfully.

"I'm afraid we shall have to go all the way to Mr. Matthews'," said mamma. "Next time, I'll dress baby myself.'