Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1857-01-15

about him, he would not have known it.
He felt nothing, saw nothing but the
dead face lying upon his bosom. They
bore her into the house. They laid her
on the bed where she had slumbered
like an innocent child, on the first night
other bridehood- where, for eightp peace
full years thereafter, she had dreamed,
by his side, her pure, wifely dreams, with
her bright, living head lying on his
breast.
Not even then would he be separated
from her. He threw himself down be-
side her, and lifted the sunny, golden
head to the place it had filled SO many
blessed nights: he folded his arms a.
round her and then, like one unconscious
of the truth, he murmured-
"Sleep ON, be thyre soft, my Helen!'
Twas tenderly cared for by one who
had been my nurse in infancy. They
told me since that / bore my sufferings
with martyr-like patience which it was
very'pitifulto see; and only when DIR. VIII
son said that there was no hope-that |,
Agatha Raeburn, must be a cripple for
life, did | even weep. Then, indeed, |
turned my face to the wall and sobbed
out the bitterness of a deathly agony !;
a grief more like woman's than a
-child's.
But nothing of all this was communi-
Gated "a my father He had enough else
to bear; as night and day, for three .wea-
ry days and nights he sat motionless be-
side his Helen, or lay on the bed where
they had placed her, draped once more
in her white, bridal robes, and held her
head, garlanded and crowned with flow
ers, to his throbbing heart.
At last they buried her. My father
took no part in the arrangements, but
he opposed nothing. Solei;1nly and tear
lessly he walked in his place as chief
mourner, close by the graceful head so
still now, which he had loved so well to
watch in her bright, joyous life. They
had lowered her into the grave, dust had
been sprinkled upon her coffin, the
Lords prayer had been uttered, and now,
the slow, solemn voice of the old, white
haired rector murmured-
ooh, merciful God, the Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, who is the resurrec-
ton and the life; to whom whomsoever
believeth, shall live though he die; and
and whatsoever hveth and beheveth in
Him shall not die eternally."
As these words fell on the mourner's
ear, there stole to his heart, for the first
time, ray of hope.
"Shall not die eternally," he repeated
IN a tone so low that only those nearest
him'oould catch hiswords: "then there is
hope. Helen will livefor me oncemore,
and the way is not very long."
Then came the blessed rain of tears, but
he controlled himself and listened to the
rest of the service reverently, with bow
ed head and folded arms. When it was
over, the rector came forward and took
his arm
''You must not stay here" he said
"Come, 60 with me-" and meekly as
child the stricken man obeyed him.
Il think she was happy. I think I
made Helen happy,"he said with touch
ing mornfulness, as they drew near the
house. "She was a blithe, joyous crea-
ture when / knew her first, and after that
she never suffered any pain or sorrow
from which my love could guard her
And yet, at last, my carelessness killed
her"
"Not that, my poor friend" answered
the old man, weeping himself over this
terrible sorrow. mot that 1t was no
fault of yours. Thank God she had new
er suffered, that her eyes had not grown
dim with weeping or her light form bow
ed by trouble; that she passed to heaven
without knowing the bitterness ofearth."
My father looked at him with blind
incrcdulous gaze.
IL don't understand you, sir. Thank
God did YOU say, because Helen is dead
my Helen? l cannot"
He broke from the kind hand which
sought to detain him, and rushing into
the room from whence she had been
borne outward, he locked the door and
no one saw him again till the morrow.
lie came forth then, and confronted
DR.. Wilson as he was leaving my room,
with a troubled face, and said, resolute-
ly:
CDR, I have been neglecting my poor
Agatha, my darling firstborn. | am go
ing to sec her now, and you must tell me
the worst"
There was that in his voice and his eve
which could not be gainsayed, and DR..
Wilson taltered forth
"She is not suffering so much to-day
sir; but she may be cripple for life, y
and then rushed hurriedly from the
house.
Ny father came to me and sat down
by the bedside with his white, sorrowfu,
Agatha" he said, "my poor, suffer
ing, little Aggie."
Ny father had been always kind and
gentle to both his children, but he had
noticed us little, and think had loved
us chiefly because we were Helen's own.
She had been his one love, his children
were as nothing. Now, to his eyes the
mantle of her tenderness seemed STROUD
ing the little ones she had loved, and
his tones as he spoke to me, were SO sor-
rowfully sweet, that burst into tears.
"What is it little Aggie? Are you
suffering?
''Not in my limb, papa; but l feel so
here" and l placed my hand upon my
heart, which then as now, had habit of
fiuttering tumultuously with every pow
erful emotion. ''Mother loved me, and
she is gone where l can never see her
again. All these days have longed to
have her kiss me just once, and say she
pitied her poor crippled child, and just
now YOU seemed so much like her"
Then you know it all, darling? They
have not spared even you my poor lamb:
But your fathers love shall comfort you.