ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1887 · page 165 of 399

The Argosy — page 165: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
The Argosy — page 165: Pulp Fiction, 1887

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1887. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Was tt a Ghost ? 153 ‘Tet me take the baby for a little,” I said. I was not experienced in nursing, and had little hope of quieting the child, but I longed to relieve the mother’s tired arms and to atone for what seemed to me the ungraciousness of the others. ‘* Why, Mabel, are you crazy!” exclaimed Caroline. Tom stared at me with mingled wonder and amusement, and even the poor mother looked as if she had not heard aright; but I lent forward and took the baby gently from her. By a fortunate chance the child left off crying almost immediately I had it in my arms. It caught sight of a gold ornament I wore, and clutching it in its tiny fists, became absorbed in examining it for the remainder of the journey. Caroline gradually left off sneering, and the others left off staring at me. Only the woman’s sad eyes rested on me with a look of admiring awe which made me feel quite ashamed. ‘¢ Where are you going ?” I asked. Then she leant forward and told me her story. It was a very sad one. She was a soldier’s wife and had followed her husband to India and back. On the way home she had lost three little children. This one, only eight weeks old, was very weakly. She was going down to stay with her mother to see if the pure country air would do it good. * You will be glad to get into the country, won’t you?” Yes,” she said wistfully. ‘But I was sorry to leave my hus- ban 99 I had read and heard often enough the most graphic descriptions of poverty and its trials, but I had never felt what it was till that morning when I sat with the poor pale-faced baby in my arms and listened to its mother’s voice, low and pathetic, but without a tinge of discontent in its tone. As we reached Leachester I put the baby back in her arms and then slid my hand furtively into my pocket. I did not wish Tom or Caroline to see what I was doing, so I waited till the last moment ; then suddenly drew my money out, thrust it into the woman’s hand, and jumped on to the platform before she had time to discover what I had given her. The crowd at this station was greater than ever. Tom had literally to fight a way out for himself and us, and as at one moment we stood, blocked near the exit, I turned to see the train glide from the station. The poor woman with her baby was at the window, watching apparently for me ; for, as our eyes met she started and put out her head as if she would have spoken. I could not have heard her if she did; nor did it much matter, for her words would hardly have been as eloquent as hereyes. They seemed, as they met my own, almost to burn with intensity of feeling. There was something solemn in that look. I felt as if the woman were praying for me, and inwardly registering a solemn vow that at some time she would repay me for my help. Then the train swept on, and I saw her no more. VOL, XLVII. L COnmicloooel —_— SS (CO