The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1869-07-01

day, eagerly and fervently tempting, D,
affection and entreaty, to soften the hare
heart of her son. 1t was in vain. He re
NAMED moody, obstinate and unmoyed
not even the unlooked-for Communication O.
his sentence to transportation for fourteen
years, softened for an instant the suller
hardihood of his demeanor.
"But the spirit of resignation and en-
[durance that had SO long upheld her, was
unable to contend against bodily weak
ness and infmity. She fell sick. She
dragged her limbs from bed to visit hel
son once more, but her strength failed hel
and she sank heavily to the ground
sAnd now the boosted GOODNESS and in
difference of the young man was tested
indeed; and the retribution that fell
heavily upon him nearly drove him mad
A day passed away and his mother was
not there; another flew by and she came
not near him-a third even arrived, and
yet he had not seen her; and in four and
twenty hours he was to be separated from
|her-perhaps forever. Oh how the long
forgotten thoughts of other days rushed
upon his mind as he almost ran up and
down the narrow yard, as if intelligence
would arrive the sooner for his hurrying
and how bitterly a sense of his helpless
ness and desolation rushed upon him,
when he heard the truth His mother,
the only parent he had ever known, lay
1ll--it might be dying-within one mile
Of the ground he stood on. Were he free
and unfettered few minutes would place
him by her side. He rushed to the gate,
and grasping the iron rail with the ener-
gy of desperation, shook it till it rang
again, and threw himself against the
thick walls as if to forcea passage through
the stone; but the strong building mock
ed his feeble efforts, and he beat his hands
together and wept like child.
/ bore the mothers forgiveness and
blessing to her son in prison; and car
ried his solemn assurance of repentance,
and his fervent supplication for pardon,
to her sick bed [ heard, with pity and
compassion, the repentant man devise q
thousand little plans for her comfort and
support, when he returned, but / knew
that many months before he, could reach
his destination, his mother would be no
longer of this world. 1srf in
"He was removed by night. A few
We hooAOOA WoAoO Wiz HOOA WOA1uh . DOoAA
took its flight, ] confidently hope and SOL
emily believe, to place of eternal hap
piness and rest. performed the burial
service over her remains. She lies i'll our
little church yard There is no stone at
her graves head. Her sorrows were
known to man; her virtues to God.
'It had been arranged previously to
the convict's departure, that he should
write to his mother as soon as he could
obtain permission, and that the letter
should be addressed to me. The father
had positively refused to see his son
from the moment of his apprehension; and
it was Indifferent to him whether he lived
or died. Many years passed over without
any intelligence from him, and when
more than half his term of transportation
had expired, and had received no letter,
I concluded him to be dead, as indeed, I
almost hoped he might be.
"Edmonds, however, had been sent a
considerable distance up the country on
his arrival at the settlement and to this
circumstances, perhaps, may be attributed
the fact that though several letters were
dispatched, none of them ever reached my
hands. He remained in the same place
during the whole fourteen years. At the
expiration of his term, steadily adher
ing to the resolution and the pledge he
gave his mother, he made his way back to
England, amidst numerous difficulties,
and returned on foot to his native place.
On fine Sunday evening, in the month
of August,g J ohm Edmonds set foot in the
village he had left in shame and disgrace
seventeen years before. His nearest way
lay through the church-yard The mans
heart swelled as he crossed the atile. The
tall elms, through whose branches the de-
clining sun cast here and there rich ray
of light upon the path, awakened the as,
sociations of his earliest days. He pic
tured himself as he was then, clinging to
his mothers hand, and walking peaceful.
ly to church. He remembered how he
used to look up into her pale face; and
how her eyes would Sometimes fill with
tears as she gazed upon his features-tears
which fell hot upon his forhead as she
stopped to kiss him, and made him weep
too, although he little knew then what
bitter tears hers were. He thought how
often he had run merrily down the path
with some childish playfellow, looking
back ever and again to catch his mothers
smile or hear her gentle voice; and then
veil seemed lifted from his memory
and words of kindness unrequited, and
warnings despisal, and promises broken
thronged upon his recollection, till hE
heart failed him and he could bear it nj
longer.
"He entered the church. The evening
service was concluded and the congrega
ton had dispersed, but it was not yet clos
ed. His footsteps echoed through tn
low building with a hollow sound, ant
he almost feared to be alone, it was so still
land quiet He look around him. Moth
j ing appeard to be changed. The plac
seemed smaller than it used to be, bu
there were the old monuments on whicl