Jeffersonian Republican. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1840-1853, 1852-01-29


tiful extracts. The first describes, most
touchingFy, the death of child The boy
has been from home, on kind of holiday
visit, but is sent for to return, in consequence
of the more serious illness of his little brother
Charlie, who has been sick for some time
What follows, let the author tell in his own
inimitable style sn sr-
s. Friend Lost. tr
1t is quite dark when you reach home, but
you sec the bright reflection of fire within,
and presently at the open door, Nelly clapping
her hands for welcome. But there are sad
faces when you enter. Your mother folds
you to her heart; but at first noisy. ou:-bu-st
of JOY, puts her finger On her lip, and whis-
pers poor Charles name The Doctor you
see too, slipping softly out of the bedroom
door with glasses in his hand and-you
hardly know how-your spirits grow sad, and
your heart graTitates TO the heavy air of all
about you. srr. .rE
You cannot see Charlie, Nelly says;-and
you cannot in the quiet parlor, tell Nelly
single one of the many things, which you had
hoped to tell her. She Says. Charlie has
grown 50 thin and so pale you would never
know him." You listen TO her, but you can
not talk: she asks you what you have seen,
and you begin for moment joyously; but
when they open the door of the sick room,
and You hear faint sigh, you cannot go on.
You sit still, with your hand in Nely's and
look thoughtfully into the blaze
You drop to sleep after that days fatigue,
with singular and perplexed fancies haunting
you; and when you wake up with shudder
in the middle Of the night, you have fancy
that Charlie is really dead you dream ofsee-
him pale and thin, as Nelly described him,
and with the starched grave clothes On him.
You toss over in your bed, and grow hot and
feverish. You cannot sleeps and you get
up stealthily, and creep down stairs; light
is burning in the hall: the bedroom door
stands half open, and you listen-fancying
you hear whisper. You. steel on through
the hall, and edge around the side ofthe door.
A little lamp is Pickering On the hearth, and
ard the gaunt shadow or the bedstead lies
dark upon the ceiling Your mother is in her
chair, and with her head upon her hand
though it is long after midnight The Doc
tor Is standing with his back toward you, and
with Charles little wrist in his fingers;
and you hear hard breathing. and now and
then, low sigh from your mothers chair.
An occasional CLEAN offire-Ight makes the
gaunt shadows stagger on the wall, ike some
thing spectral. You look wildly at them,
and at the bed where your own brother
your laughing, gay-hearted brother, is lying.
You long to see him, and sidle up softly step
or two: bnt your mothers ear has caught the
sound, and she beckons you to her, and folds
you again in her embrace. You whisper TO
her what you wish She rises and takes you
by the hand, to lead you to the bedside
The Doctor looksvery solemnly, as we ap-
pTOach. lie takes out his watch. He is not
counting Charlie's pulse, for be has dropped
his hand; and it lies carelessly, bat oh, how
thin over the edge OF the bed.
He shakes his head mouInfully at your
mother; and she springs forward, dropping
your hand, and lays her fingers upon the fore
head ofthe boy, and passes her hand over his
mouth ''i'"I
as he asleep Doctor 7" she says, in tone
you do not know. t58EI
"Be calm,' madam The Doctor is very ,
calm. 70 moose
81 am calm," says your mother; but you .
do nc, think it, for you see her tremble very
plainly. faa Et Go 1Qsf saH1l {
"Dear madam, he will never waken in this +
Horld." . go,
There is no cry,-only q bowing down Of
your mothers head upon the body of poor,
dead Charlie!-andr only when you see her
form shake and quiyer with the deep, slnoth-
cred sobs, your crying bursts forth loud and
strong. -ffiosfsaT a4s ~
Ae DocVoF iIItS you IN his arms, that you 1
may see-the pale head-those blue eyes all |
faxen hair gone-those white
lips pinched and hard Never, never, will
he boy forget his first terrible sight of
Death! ge0r.H no ..Is7 f;asa.-}
In your silent chamber, after the storm of
'obs has wearied yoa, the boy-dreams are
strange and earnest. They take hold on that
lwfui Visita,it, the strungc slipping away
rom life, of which we know so little, and yet
Inow, alas SO much! Charlie that was your
'rother, is now only a name; perhaps he isap
nigel; perhaps Qorthe old nurse has said it,
ghen he asngly7-and now, you hate her for
g Bat you are snretbis cannot be; you nre sure