THE BURGLAR and THE BABY.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 11, 10 June 1893, Page 2

THE BURGLAR and THE BABY.

The burglar was not a bad-looking man, though his business had a bad look. He stood by the door of a sleeping-room and peered in. HR A taint light was burning, and he could hear the measured breathing of someone asleep. Cautiously he crept inside, stooping low and looking round. Xo one there save a sleeping woman. In an instant a cloth saturated with ether was thrown over her face, and he waited one, two, three—ten minutes, and the stertorous breathing of the sleeper told him the drug was doing its work. "With a dexterous hand he seized the jewellery and money lying on the dressing-case, and began a quick search of the drawers of the case, “ 00-o-o,” came a voice from the shadows of the room. Quick as a dash the burglar clutched Lis silent knife and turned to meet his victim. Xo one was visible. “ Oo o-o,” came the voice again, and the burglar saw a child in its crib by the foot of the bed. It was a pretty baby, sleepily holding up its hands to him. He let Lie knife fall to his side, and, stepping over to the crib, touched the child. It cooed again softly, and held up its arms for him to take it. The impulse was beyond all his control, and lie lifted the baby to bis bosom, and it nestled its soft white cheek down to his, and put its white arm around his neck. He purred to it, ami in a moment its curly head was laid against his face, and it was asleep again. “Never seen a kid like that,'’ he whispered to himself. “Most of um is afraid of strangers,” and tenderly lie laid it in the crib. Then lie went back to the dressing-case. He stood still a moment, and then furtively looked over his shoulder towards the crib. The sleeping face of the child was turned towards him. Slowly he replaced in the case all ho had taken from it, hastily he snatched from the woman’s face the saturated cloth, opened the

door near the bed, and quietly slipped down stairs. Once on the street again he looked up at the house angrily. , “ Dang it! ” he growled, “ a man that ain’t got more gizzard than I have ought to git out of the business.” And ho disappeared into the shadows of the night.—The Million.