Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1854-03-18

arms, but the mother dissuaded him
was TOO i'll for that. He stopped down
and, staggering, would almost have faller
over The cradle, but the wife held hin
back.
"Oh, William" she cried, "leave the
child alone You are not fit TO touch him
See you frghten him! Go now."
He staggered back, looking coafuseG,
and ashamed. "WelI, | am sorry for this,
but III e'en go. Poor dear little Willie"
He was about TO retire, when turning
back he said hastily, as if the thought had
for the moment sobered him
"But if the child should die!"
"Tben, Gods will be DONE" said the
mother, sobbing.
"Oh, let me fetch DOCTOR" he cried,
with look of alarm, "I'll bring one in
few minutes; let me go?"
81 have seen TO that, William; the doc
tor has been here, and done what he
could. Now go!"
And he went staggering 10 his sleeping
chamber, from whence the sound Of his
labored breathing shortly proceeded; and
the drunken snoring Of her husband, the
wailing moan Of the sick child, and the oc-
casional deep sghs of the watching wife
and mother, were the only sounds that
broke the stiffness of the night in that sad
little household.
The mornings light peered in through
the window-blinds, and still found the
mother by the child's cradle. She watch
ed there by her frst-born, calling to mind
its sweet winning ways, its prattle, and its
bright look. But now, alas there was but
the quivering clammy lips, through which
the chlld's soul seemed huttering. It's
shortening breath labored on, and its up
turned eyes were half velled by the con-
vulsed lid. Senseess, unconscious, and
helpless, never had that child been more
dear to the mothers heart than now yet
love could not save it sorrow could not
ransom it. There was long breath, a
sigh, a gurgling sound in the throat, and
then quiet; it was the quiet of death. Yet
still the mother watched for him that could
not hear her weeping.
AT length the morning fairly broke. l,
was broad daylight, and the husband rose
from his couch with red eyes and heated
brain. His step was unsteady as he enter
ed the apartment, where still sat the mother
and her dead child. .....
"lt's late," said the husband, advancing
81 shall not be in time for work. Why
did you let me sleep SO long?"
"Poor little Willie" was all she could
500 out in reply.
"What's the matter ?" he asked and
then pausing moment, he seemed sudden.
! ly TO recollect the events of the past night
81 think you said the child was ill.,"
"He is dead J"
30, God!" he exclaimed, sit cannot be-.
He looked down into the cradle, anc
there lay the child, calm and placid as i
in sleep, yet breathing not, and with the
hue of death upon its cheek. He groaned
and sunk into chair by the cradle-sde
unable TO speak.
But suddenly there passed through hi
mind the visions of the past and ht
thought of the sweet pra:tle of his child OF
the evenings of his return from labor-o
his arch wiles and playfulness-and ther
Of the patient love and care of his wife
now bowed down in silent grief besid,
him.
80, Kate, this is sac sight. Our poor
dear child !" and the strong man hid hi
face in his hands, and sobbed audibly.
She took his hand. He looked uI
through his tears, and said-"I have beef
very cruel and selfish towards you. d.
you not hate me 90
i. "No, no." said the weeping wife "no
William, but here, by the body ofthis, ou
first-born, let me speak 10 you of the past.'
"Not now, not now -
"William, ! must l have thought Of i
during the night, while waited for you
and watched by your child and mine anc
now feel it TO be right 70 speak TO you
though it is in sorrow"
"Be merciful to me 10
81 have no word of reproach for you
William; but | would speak to you as you
wife, whom you promised to love and
cherish till DEATH"
81 did did ="
you took me, girl, from my father
house and home, where l was happy
You loved me-"
"True and love you now"
81 believe you, William. Well, I wa
young, with little knowledge of the world
but tried TO make your home as happy a
mine had been before. labored to max
it cheerful and bright for you. sought t
attract you 10 my side, and keep you a
home with me and the dear child there
after your hours of daily labor were over.
"You did, Kate. No wife could hav
been more kind and goods
civilian, ! prayed for you, though
but of you, / lived but for you."
"Oh, spare me. know, I feel ho,
cruel have BEEN"
"No, only thoughtess. When sober
you have always been kind and loving
but when you have spent your evening
i away from US, and come in late"
81 have been harsh and cruel-I kno,
it now."
"Dear William, one other word aud
have done. Let me have some of you
evening leisure spent beside, me. wi
try to make you happy. Sit beside m
: while l work; and if / do not know /
e much as the companions whom you me,
with elsewhere, teach me and will learn.
e "Oh, Kate" said William, sobbing, 6
never felt your love so dear to me as nov
IS Here, by the body OF this dear child, l so
= emnly promise that il shall be as you sa,
] will forsake those haunts Of dissipation