The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1850-07-25

TcCtlftu Oh MS, kept tucm DOtu hlltut. but Wnen
the news came that Molly, too, was stricken down
Marks course was taken.
III father has mind to be heather, and worse
than heather" he muttered, one morning AS he
watched the Ensign on his way 70 the woods,
"why, we'll and good but mother Is Christian.
! take il. She ought to know better. | will give
her her choice; either she or 70 over to-day
and see how Molly and the boys are"
He watched his mother with 9 compressed lip
as she went about her household labor, then, hen
she had smoothed her hair and drawn her wheel
to her accustomed corner, he began
Mother, Lydia and Tim Linsley, Thankful
Harrison, Sam and David Butler Abby Barker,
and ever so many more children, have died Do
you think that Joe and Benje and Molly will all
die too ~
"A dont know, Mark. Ssfas, " uvuun says
that Doctor Foot gives no hope forthe liole boys
Poor Hannah Chinnin, it will be a sad blow to her
to lose themn
Mother, do you remember what nice custards
and jellies Mrs. Chinnin used to bring me, when
had the measles; and how she watched by me
| and nursed me when you was too much worn out
to hold up your head ~
Yes, Mark, Ishall never forget her kindness .
and the tears sprang to the moths1s eyes
Well, then, mother,n he exclaimed, rising and
giving the forestck kick as II to settle bis decs-
ion, :" think 1t is burning shame that we should
let them all die, and never 20 near them. |, for
one, am going over there to-day. i am but a boy,
know, and can do nothing to help them but the
children will know that | have not forgotten them
As to the fever, If catch II, | must One had
as good die with the fever as live in quarrel all
his days.
Mark had not miscalculated the effect of his
words upon his mother. She knew something of
his determined spirit, and exclaimed, hurriedly,
"No, no, Mark For you 70 20 there would be
tempting Providence outright ifyou should catch
the fever, should never forgive myself; will 60
null she continued seeing him begin to button up
" S-Sket 81 bssrr z1asA se-sa scN > lo2x ~ !.
for these qusrrels, as you say, are dreadful Only
promise me that you will not attempt to see them
yourself and wili ~n this minute"
81 promise or Today" replied Mark
There was no manifestation Of surprise when
Esther Ross entered that house of affection, moth
ing that marked q memory Of the bitter estrange-
INT between them but warm pressure of the
hand and grateful look from the over-wearied
mother unable to bear any longer the last fearful
struggle between life and death, she relinqushed
her child into the hands Of her old friend, and
buried her face on her husbands shoulder. As in
birth, so in death, those children were not divided
Death gathered them both In the space of few
hours, and kind Esther Ross ah, how she inward
driven her FORTH smoothed their fair locks with
gentle hand, and prepared their little forms for
the grave Then she sought the room of Molly
where her presence and thoughtful care was like
dew to the heart Of the fear-stricken girl.
When she returned home that night, and related
with mothers eloquence the sore affection of
their neighbors, Mark wept outright, and the eyes
of the Ensign glistened, ss he said 81 am glad
you went, Esther !" then laying his hand upon
Marks head, he added Remember my boy
that little Joe and Benje are free from anger and
sin and sorrow nowp
Esther Ross knew that her husband passed an
anxious and restless night, but she knew, also,
that he was one Of those who are best left TO the
workings of their own convictions; therefore, she
did not ask him, in 90 many words, to attend the
funeral, and bury all anger in that double grave
Mark, to her surprise did not ask to 90, and with
sad and somewhat anxious heart she went over
at an early hour to give such assistance as might
be needed
The graveyard and the road which led to it
were In full view from the Windows of Ensign
Ross's house. The Easign had loitered sbos,
the wood-pile and yard all the morning, in rest.
lessl undecided manner. When thepeople began
his house, and paced the floor with the same rest
less step, occasionally joining Mark, who had sta
toned himself at the window.
Mark covered his eyes with his hands when he
the old pastor issue forth from the house, fol-
lowed by four boys not much larger than himself,
bearing the double coffin-for he could not bear
to think that the fair-haired boys lay beneath
that heavy black pail.
But his father continued to watch the process
sion with troubled expression of face Onward
IL crept with that slow and solemn pace, and
there came q ccnvulsivc twtching about his
mouth, as it filed into the graveyard and past n
little, short mound, headed by a slab of white
marble, few yards to the right Of the gate-for
he thought of the cod November day when he
and his wife had stood by that open grave, and
we'll did he remember whose hand had gently
lowered the head of his little fsxen-haired Ma.
bel to her last home and who in all times of trial
and sffliction, had stood by his side like broth
err. He seized his hat, and, hurrying onward
soon reached the spot and gently made his way
through the crowd to the side Of the grave.
When the solemn prayer Of the old minister
was ended, with gesture Of entreaty he took
shovel from the hand Of young man, and slowly
and reverently sprinkled the first grains of dust
on the coffin below As he returned the shovel
to the hand of the young man, his eye for one
oud met that of the bereaved father, and he felt
that his motive was understood His hand laid
the last clod upon that grave - his foot WAS
the last TO turn away and join Esther, who still
fingered by the white tombstone of their own
child.
They pursued their way home In silence, and,
when they reached that house of sorrow, ms IL by
one impulse, they both turned and entered As they
entered the vacant sitting room they heard the
voice Of the Leftensnt raised 10 broken expostu-
lations in an adjoining room.
No, no, my boy this must not be. We have
suffered sorey; and II you too should take the
fever and dien--
The Leftenant could not proceed and, rs they
drew near the open door, they saw their own son,
Marx, standing by the bedside Of Molly, holding
her fevered hand closely in his as be replied, with
quivering lip
They have buried mp little Joe and Benje,
and would not let me zee them, but ] mill see
Molly have seen her to-day, and ] will see her
tomorrow | don't care for the fever. My
father looks stern, and my mother sad, and moth
ing Is as it used to be. This quarrel has made
us all miserable enough !"
Ithiel, Ithiel, the boy speaks the truth ~ ex-
claimed Ensign Ross, stepping through the door
way, and Offering his hand to his startled neigh
Dor 81 have been harsh, unkind unchristian--
forgive mep
The stricken father stared for q second Ia as
constituent, then sewing the profered hand, MUIR
INJURED, as he bent over to conceal his tears
And l, too, Jonsthan--i, too AN guilty but
have left It all there he added with signf-
cant gesture towards the graveyard Let u be
forgotten
And 30 il was After a long and weary illness,
Molly recovered, and the lives Of the families
again foated on Ia the same current until, ~ old,
vhits-hsired men, Lsftsnsnt Chinnin and Ensign
Ross were laid with their fathers But years be-
fore they died. the white house on the hill, which
they had seen In their day dreams became re-
ality, and two little boys had been born, who, by
the express wish Of the Eosign, were christened
Joseph and Benjamin.
The storm OF contention gradually subsidized,
and the old landmarks became visible. The
land has now had rest for many years, and the
traces of the old battle are scarcely dscernible TO
any, save snch curious beings as ourselves The
white school house, minus the befry, still stands,
hu, tha % u exeucaD vhere VIC oopued our earliest