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 XXXII

standing around in City Park, for a baby was missing. Patrol cars roaring around Branton Hills; many a woman hunting around through sympathy; kidnapping rumors flying around. His Honor was out of town; but on landing at our railroad station, and finding patrol cars drawn up at City Park, saw, in that crowd’s midst, a tiny girl, of about six, with a bunch of big shouting patrol officers [sic], asking:—

“Who took that baby?”

“Did you do it?”

“Which way did it go?”

“How long ago did you miss it?”

“Say, kiddo!! Why don’t you talk?”

An adult brain can stand a lot of such shouting, but a baby’s is not in that class; so, totally dumb, and shaking with fright, this tot stood, thumb in mouth, and two big brown baby orbs just starting to grow moist, as His Honor, pushing in, said:

“Wait a bit!!” and that bunch in uniform, knowing him, got up and Gadsby sat down on a rock, saying:—

“You can’t find out a thing from a young child by such hard, gruff ways. This tiny lady is