The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1866-07-28

and dry; weep could not, neither could real
ize my loss, My husband went out and brought
in the reluctant girl. Silently drawing her INTO
the room M .I
'Do you know said he, "that you have mur.
dered that chldl"
She tell on her knees. "ohi sir, did not
mean to do It. did not know there was any
harmn
Then why not have told your mistress, as
the doctor said to yoJY
because was afraid sir; the doctor looked
so angry that was sure ii I told should be
.''And again tell you, you have murdered my
childlp
The girl looked with such pitiful anguish at
Ann" For long time alter she sal on the step
OF the stair outside the door, sobbing as ii her
heart would break; but mine was turnedfto
stone, numbing despair settled on me, for
wellIig up within was the silenc reproach that
If / had not gone in debt this had never been,
and, instead OF this urfoundng misery OF my
own making. 1 had been happy mother in my
own native village. / could not say This is
Gods hand, "for through my own thoughtessness
had this grief overtaken me.
spoke no words aloud; with that little dead
form before me, all the past sprung up as
vision before my eyes. The childless iataer
never attempted to console me; he stood looking
with a strong hXodness upon the death OF his
idol, for such she had been. Whether he blamed
me at al | never knew. We were both reused
from our reveries by the knock of the landla1y.
She came to ask US il she could be of any use.
was too heartbtoken to ask any questions,
and could only silently motion my assent. My
husband lett the room, ana gently and tenderly
did the woman perform ali the little offices for
the dead; revereDtly was 1t carried out, aud laid
on spare bed belonging to herself, and close
adjoining to our own room. She busted her:elf
in every necessary deed; by her summons the
undertaken came, and in every way she spared
us as much as poss ble And so the day passed
on. and the weary night came; but long ere this
my husband had joined me. He could weep
could even attempt to console me; but his words
fell unheeded, my eyes were dry and hot; |
could only find re.ief in pacing the room, and
passing the sides of my handkerchief through
my fingers, till Bit by bit it was worn away, and
bit by bit it fell on the floor unheeded. 1t was
near dnight before we left sitting-room; ;
together we looked at our hctle angel, so beauti-
tul in rs holy innocence. kissed the little lips
and the icy GOODNESS thrilled through my frame;
but still no relief came.
My husband slept at intervals through the
night, but my eyes fixed themselves on the fan
ta-tic shadows thrown by the gasamp outside
the window, ana, If for moment 5lumber stole
upon me, was instantly wakened by the tancied
sound oi that Group cough.
Slowly the morning broke; my brain seethed
anu boiled; l was giddy; could scarcely stand,
and could only find relief in notion. Hastily
threw cloak over my shoulders. and with slip
pPred fee; went down stairs, forgetting in my
hurry that my child was close adjoining. AS /
entered the siting-room, the first thing l saw
was my little ones shoes side by side IN the chair
Ill WHICH Sne was dCCu5lOIlleu 10 Ue SedNGu dI Iut
table. In a moment, nature burst torth-the
tears rained down in torrents-in every limb l
trenbled and shook; at last l iell across the
chair in faint, but still graspng the shoes.
Frederick, hearing the noise, came to me, but for
hours reason totered ON heI throne; all that ten
d attention could do to soOthe my grief was done
all that love could express in words or acts was
avishly Given, but still the sting was there; and
when was impiored not to be rebellion; at Gods
will. | answered so impetuOusly, "It is no act OF
God; did 1t myself" then. indeed. it was feared
/ was speaking from delirium; and as the rellet
OF tears became no longer such, | seemed to be
possessed with perpetual motion. had no rest
but in movement; the sight OF my dead in ant
brought only remorse so that when the day oil
the funeral came, so much dreaded by my
husband for its probable effect upon me,
allowed The little coffin to be taken away, and
myself placed in the carriage as one OF its
mOurners, without even struggle. My house
seemed on my return even more desolate than
befcre. Almost the first words l uttered were
'Let us 60 from here.n
"Shall we take the houseT asked my husband
"What h0use?' 1t had entirely eone IRON
my emory, to which with some pains it was
recalled: "Oh, no not tneIe; anywhere in diff
ferent direction"