Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1867-11-08

of those most interested, l beg operators
to answer a hundred calls and be q fooled"
ninety.nine times for the glorious satisfac-
ton of once ministering to the comfort of
one sick or dying mortal, or relieving, in
the slightest degree, the burden of grief
weighing down soul. | was amply re-
Maid for my interruption, by the tone of
gratitude In which the brass tongued
sounder rung out its "Good Was 'fraid
you'd gone. Pts. rush this" And then
followed slowly, as if the wire was burden
ed. and the sounder, reluctant to beat out
with its usual cheerful tone, seemed muf-
fed:
From -.
'tThe baby Is dead
l have been eighteen years telegraph
operator. In this short lifetime of expe-
rience, have come to be as mechanical in
the receiving and sending of messages as
it is possible for the fingers to be, backed
as they are by thinking arrangement.
The saddest and gayest, the most frivolous,
and the terribly important-all pass in the
ear and run off the pencil.point and leave
no impression upon the mind. But was
alone with those four words in the silence
of the night. They fell, as Dickens says,
like stone into the well of my heart, and
splashed the tears up into my eyes. l in
stinctively closed my eyes to keep the sud-
denly-awakened emotions within bounds,
and my mind, charged with a systematical
current, followed the wire back to -,
and stood hushed in the presence of grief
which was silent in its intensity. Oh! for
the power to lift a feather weight of that
crushing load; to pour into that bleeding
heart one drop of balm to raise that pros
trate mother from where she strove to
wrench her jewel from the grasping hand
Of death
Could not my heart appreciate the situa.
ton and sympathize in the deepest degree :?
How, quicker than the throbbing wire
speeds the message, went back my mind to
Just such scene In our home; where all
night with tenderest care | bore In my
arms heaven lent treasure. How as the
stars faded out one by one, her little life
light pulled out and left our world In dark
ness. How the awful grief of the mother
seemed to give me strength to bear mine,
or left me none to bear. The loneliness of
the house; the precious form
Dressed for the grave, in raiment like the
snow" , s4e e t,f ..s
more beautiful in its repose than finest
sculpture the sleepless night-wish no
little cry to hush. Oh! so still; tho quiet,
beautiful Sabbath, with the hearty condo
lence of friends, and the pastors visit and
prayer; another night, and then the
mournful preparations for the last sad rite !;
then
We laid our darling down,
Our first seed in Gods acre soWn,"
and for days and weeks and years we have
carried heart full of grief
Fresh from this retrospect, my heart
melted into sympathy which would find
expression, and Iseemed to be wandering
with the lonely mother through memory's
halls, and with painful satisfaction con-
templating the records hanging there, of
the short life just faded out. What bright
hopes for the future wrapped UP in the lit
tie immortal, had been suddenly dashed
The past had been forgotten and the pres
the past only is left-full of sweetest me-
mories and the present is dark, with but
one silver line of hope reaching over the
weeping now to follow this thread, but we
know it is the pathway up which the little
spirit sped to Its nome in heaven.
AOutAuE lAlo oOCuCy OutS1llPpluS tuC
sluggish elements, my mind was in another
presence.
A missive, carelessly received, and as
to melt strong man to tears and break
his heart. The telegram has fulfilled its
mission. It has but the four words The
baby Is dead" AS the hurricane bends
the sturdy oak, so when grief storm
breaks upon man his proud spirit bends,
and If he be wise he attempts no resist
ance to its power. Although scores of
miles apart, yet his spirit rapidly spans
the intervening space, and he is with his
loved ones and their dead dust. With his
clever eye Of faith he will direct, her gaze
beyond the cloud into the presence of the
Eternal Peace, from out of which their
spirit child, with outstretched, pleading
hands, beckons them. With his words Of
comfort her heart will take courage to
commence anew the journey Of life with
him alone. They have the realms of mem
DRY and imagination in which to wander
free; the former conjuring up.
IA vanisht face, with its sweet spirit-smiles +.
wonderings, and little tender ways" J.,
the latter bringing to view the happiness
of reunion with the gone before, in that
life beyond this vale of tears, where there
are no more partings, and where their joys
are forever full. ~ u 'n
= was awakened from this mournful re-
verie into which my sympathies had led
me, by an anxious IA A. i" and the in.
terrogatory Is 1t O K?" brought me to
my senses. ! gave the required acknow-
ledgment and started the message on its
sad Grand, My mind was in no condition
for further work, and with heavy step /
left the Office for my home, meditating
upon the incident of the night 3g,iidiad q
How full Of such experience the opera
tors life is, is scarcely realized even by
himself The endless variety of topics
which pass under his notice. In q day
and one day is but a repetition Of all
the past days and type of all to come
leaves little margin for Illuminating on the
graveT, and but Q moment to join in the
merry laugh at the more gay, before they
pass from memory's keeping. e3s j. q
agThe Speed of the Horse.
r. The failure of 1.-THE race horse ken
lucky" to run four miles in, seven minutes
-