The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1861-01-03


night, when the storm was at its highest,
an aged minister living near the suburbs
Of the city, was aroused by an earnest
cry for help. Looking from his window,
he behed rude man, clad in the coarse
attire of sweeper Of the public street.
In few moments, while the rain came
down 10 torrents, and the storm growled
above, the preacher, leaning on the arm
of the scavenger, threaded his way
thr ugh the dark aud lonely suburbs.
That very day strange old man had
fallen speechless in front of the old scav
enger's rude home. The good heartec
street sweeper had taken him in, apc
laid him on his own bed-he had no,
spoken once-and now he Was dying
This was the story of the rough man
Aud now. through dark alleys, among
tenements that seemed ready to topple
down upon their heads, into the loDlies,
aud dreariest suburbs they passed, that
white haired minister aud his guide AT
last, in IA narrow court, and up pair OF
stairs that creaked beneath their tread
aud then into the death room.
1t was in truth miserable place.
A glimmering light stood on broken
chair. There were the rough walls, the
S litary garret window, with the rain
beating through the rags and straw
which stuffed the broken panes--anc
there amid heap of cold ashes lay the
small valise which it seems the stranger
had with him.
ln one corner, on the coarse straw O
the ragged bed lay the dying man. H,
was but half dressed-his legs were con
cealed by military boots.
The aged preacher drew near aud look
ed upon him. As he looked-throb-
throb-you might hear the death watcl
ticking in the shattered wall.
TWAS the form Of a strong man, grow,
old with care more than age.
There was face you might look upo,
once, and yet wear it in your memory
forever. Let us bend over the bed ant
look on that face
A bold forehead stamped BY one dee.
wrinkle between the brows-long locks o
dark hair, sprinkled with gray-lip.
firmly set, yet quivering as though they
had life separate from the lie of the
man-and then two large eyes, vivid
burning, unnatural in their fixed auG
steady glare.
All, there was something so terrible
in that face-something SO full Of unut
terable loneliness, unspeakable despair
that the aged minister started back ir
horror.
But look, those strong arms are clutch
ing at the thin air-the death -swea
starts in drops upon the cold brow-th,
man is dying.
Throb!-throb .-throb - beats tn,
death watch in the shattered wall.
Would you die the death of chris
tion p faltered the preacher, as he kneI
there on the dark floor.
The white lips of the dsath-stricker
man trembled but made no sound.
Then, with the agony Of death upor
him, he rose to sitting posture. Fo
the first time be spoke:
"Christian !" he echoed in that dee,
tone which thrilled the preacher to th'
heart, "will that faith give me back my
honor! Come with me-with me, fa
over the water. Ha! We are there =
This is my native home. Yoader is tn,
church in which l knelt in childhood
Yonder the green on which l sportee
when boy. But another flag than tha
waved when l was q child And listen
old man, we're to pass this street as
passed when child, the very babes il
their cradles would raise their tiny hand,
and curse me The graves in yondel
chu chyard would shrink from my foot
steps, and yonder flag would stain bap
tism Of blood upon my heart"
This was an awful death bed tn.
minister had watched the "last night
with hundred convicts in their cells
aud never beheld scene as terrible a,
| this. ig4f1.iias 5g5aBg 3gia & : h93aEI9E
Suddenly the dying man arose. HI
tottered along the floor. With thos'
white fingers whose nails were blue will
| the death chill, he threw open the valise
He showed his military coat trimme,
with silver, and an old parchment,
piece Of cloth that looked ike the wrec
Of battle Aag.
"Look -, priest, this faded coat
spottsd With my blood r be cried, as ol
memories seemed stirring at his hear,
this is the last ooat I wore vhen
planted tho banner Of the stars % Ticou
L n "a -.