m wanted to say. But, as months passed on,
the tantalizing vision came less frequently, and at the end of a year
Chloe experienced the second happy emotion of her life. When she looked
upon her babe, a great fountain of love leaped up in her heart. She was
never too tired to wait upon little Tommy; and if his cries disturbed
her deep sleep, she folded the helpless little creature to her bosom,
with the feeling that he was better than rest. She was accustomed to
carry him to the fish-flake in a big basket, and lay him on a bed of dry
leaves, with her apron for an awning. As she paced backwards and
forwards at her daily toil, it was a perpetual entertainment to see him
lying there sucking his thumbs. But that was nothing compared with the
joy of nursing him. When his hunger was partially satisfied, he would
stop to smile in his mother's face; and Chloe had never seen anything so
beautiful as that baby smile. As he lay on her lap, laughing and cooing,
there was something in the expression of his eyes that reminded her of
the look she could never forget. He had taken the picture from her soul,
and brought it with him to the outer world; but as he lay there, playing
with his toes, he knew no more about his mother's heart than did the
Rev. Mr. Gordonmammon.

One balmy day in June, she was sitting on a rock by the sea-shore,
nursing her babe, pinching his little plump cheeks, and chirruping to
make him smile, when she heard the sound of footsteps. She looked up,
and saw Jim approaching. Her heart jumped into her throat. She felt very
hot, and then very cold. When Jim came near enough to look upon the
babe, he stopped an instant, said, in a constrained way, "How d' ye,
Chloe," then turned and walked quickly away. She gazed after him so
wistfully that for a few moments the cooing of her babe was disregarded.
"'Pears like he was affronted," she murmured, at last; and the big tears
dropped slowly. Little Tommy had a fit that night; for, by the strange
interfusion of spirit into all forms of matter, the quick revulsion of
the blood in his mother's heart passed into his nourishment, and
convulsed his body, as her soul had been convulsed.

But the disturbance passed away, and Chloe's life rolled on in its
accustomed grooves. Tommy grew strong enough to run by her side when she
went to the beach. Hour after hour he busied himself with pebbles and
shells, every now and then bringing her his treasures, and calling out,
"Pooty!" When he