“Poor baby, where did she come from?” said Mother Maggie.  “Won’t her mother cry her eyes out when she can’t see her?  We must advertise her in one of those big city papers.”

“I found her,” said Connor, “she’s mine.”

“Why, my boy,” said his mother, “she’s not a squirrel—­you can’t keep her as you did the bunny you found in the hickory tree, and not ask any questions!”

[Illustration]

“I wish there were no newspapers, and that people couldn’t read besides,” wrathfully exclaimed Connor.

“Maybe,” he added, with hopeful cheerfulness, “both her father and mother are drowned.  May I keep her then?  She may have half of my bread and milk.”

Babies were no great rarity in Twinrip, but never was there such a happy, bright-eyed little maiden as this waif proved to be.  Among the children she glowed like a dandelion in the grass, and reigned like a queen among her subjects.

Connor was the scholar of the family, and at length his conscience was sufficiently roused to make him indite an advertisement which did him much credit.  He hoped it might be placed in some obscure corner of the paper where it would be overlooked.

But next day, in a conspicuous part of the Cincinnati Commercial, with four little hands pointing to it, appeared this rather unusual notice: 

“Found in the Ohio river a baby in white dress with black eyes and red horseshoe round her neck, now belonging to Connor Magan.  If the father and mother are not drowned they can enquire at the house of Tim Magan in Twinrip, where all is convenient for her with a cow given by the President.  None others need apply.”

It was but the very next day after the “ad” appeared that a wagon drove down to Twinrip, with the father and mother of the baby.

Didn’t they cry and kiss and hug the lost, the found child!  They lived on a farm in Palestine, a few miles up the river.  A little stream ran into the Ohio close by their door, and the baby was often tied in her carriage and placed on the bridge under the charge of a faithful dog.  It was a great amusement for her to watch the ducks and geese in the water.  A sudden rise swept bridge and all away.  Search had been made everywhere, but nothing had been heard of little Minnie.  It had seemed like a return from death to read Connor’s advertisement.

And was not the brave lad that saved their child a hero!  Again and again they made him tell all about the rescue.  Of course they had to take their daughter home, but they made Connor promise to visit them at Palestine.

Soon after the happy parents left, a watch came by express to the Magan homestead, and when Connor opened the hunting-case cover, after changing its position till he could see something besides his own twisted face reflected in it, and after wiping away the spray that would come into his eyes, he read: 

                    CONNOR MAGAN.
     From the grateful parents of MINNIE RIVERS.