Fremont Weekly Freeman

A Rich Scene.

Mrs. Stansbury, residing in a court running from Race street below Sixth, was about to bring a bucket of water from the hydrant last night,—she found an old basket suspended from the knob of her front door. Putting her hand into the basket alive and kicking but so enveloped in rags that no discovery could be made without unwrapping the object. A piece of paper folded like a letter, lay by the side of the animated bundle. Mrs. Stansbury immediately returned into the house, and by the light of the lamp, examined the billet. It was addressed to her husband. She tremulously broke the seal and read as follows:

To Joe Stansbury.

Sir.—I send you the baby, which you will please take good care of and bring up right, so that it may turn out to be a better man than its daddy. Oh Joseph! what a sly old rake you are! who would think that such a sober staid old spinshanks could be such a tearing down sinner? The child is yours. You may swear to that. Look at it; it is Joe Stansbury all over. You have deceived me shamefully, Joseph, letting on to be a widower—but do a father's part by the young one and I'll forgive you.

Your heart broken
Nancy.

Mr. Stansbury was in the basement kitchen quietly eating his supper and little imagining what a storm was brewing over his head. The door of the kitchen stair-case was violently thrown open and Mrs. S.'s voice yelled out 'Stansbury—come up here you villain; here's a mess for you!' Stansbury hastily wiped his mouth and obeyed the summons—'Don't you want to see Nancy, the heart broken Nancy?'—cried Mrs. S. when her guilty husband had hobbled up into the room, 'Nancy!—what Nancy's that!'—said the sly old rogue in well feigned perplexity. 'Why Nancy, the mother of this baby that has been hung up at your door. Mr. Stansbury, oh, you look mighty innocent;—but just read this letter and then look in that basket. Don't be afraid it wont bite,—its got no teeth, poor thing!—you'll know it,—for, as your hussy says, it is just like you all over. Please goodness I'll expose you before every body?'

In less than five minutes Mrs. S. had collected a room full of spectators, (half the inhabitants of the Court) to witness the process of unwrapping the baby. Anxious expectations sat on every countenance, as the jealous lady tore away rag after rag from the body of the foundling—the vigorous movements of which astonished every body—'It's just like you, it has the devil in it already, exclaimed Mrs. S. When all at once the baby jumped up and made its escape through the open door.

It was a big tom cat! The practical, which was played off on Mrs. S. was traced to a female neighbor.

(Pennsylvanian.