The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1870-10-06

OVERLOOKING with gfleI ne sought 10 COM
fort her. He took her to his home, and
with his mother, sought to calm her fears,
and smooth her pathway Of trials. Thus
time passed, as no tidings of the missing
ones could be found the little brown
cottage with its many pleasant attractions
was sold, and the widow accepted home
with Burton Clayton and his mother.
In the UPPER story Of a miserable de-
lapidated house, sat woman by the bed
side Of her dying child; dim light was
burning near the bed side. making the
place still more gloomy. A couple of
broken chairs, rough box that served
for table, Oh which sat q few broken
dishes, large black bottle, a piece Of
dry bread, and large carving knife.
On the floor. in one corner, lay man
apparently lifeless, but there sat the
mother, her hair hanging loosely over
her shoulders in tangled masses, her
dress torn and filthy, her face thin,
almost to shadow she gazed wildly
around as If half believing some one
would come, and then turned with a
look Of mingled dispair and anguish upon
her child; the silence was at last broken,
the little form, wasted and pale, moved a
little, and opened her bright blue eyes,
bright with heavenly light, and stretch
ing out her little hands, called family.
Mamma, you won't cry any more, will
you? Your little Daisy is only going to
see baby brother. Ican't see you. mamma
dear, it's growing dark, but, oh, I can
almost see little Neddie, mamma; he will
come to meet me and make it all light
and pretty. Kiss Daisy, nam ma
so my child, my child! I cannot let
you go. You are all [ have. Q God
thou art not just. Thou hast no pity.
There is no God; there can be none"
eyes, mamma, Neddie is with God and
the angels. Hark, mamma dear, there,
listen! can't you hear them? yes, it's
Neddie trying to sing with them. o
mamma, [ must go too, see, ne is calling
me; don't cry any more. Opapa is COM
ing, you must not tell him I am going,
he may scold me and beat me, too
When he is good you may tell him Daisy
left kiss for him. Neddie says [ must
not stay any longer. Kiss me, mamma,
once for me and once for Neddie. There
by-bye mamma dear; see his dear little
hand in mine, mann ma o, how pretty,
the angels
With faint shudder the blue eye
closed, and the spirit was among the
angel band, and the broken hearted
mother sank insensible by the bedside of
the lifeless child.
A few hours later and the dingy room
was restored to better condition; in the
center of the room stood two collins; one
/ containing the remains Of the father, the
other was all that was left of little Daisy.
On low bed lay the still unconscious
mother; by her side sat man Of some
forty years, holding the hand Of the wo-
man. His noble, manly face wore look
Of intense sorrow; everything that could
be done to give the room cheerful look,
was done, and he waited almost breath
lessly for signs of returning life in the
woman. Suddenly with low moan she
| opened her eyes, and gazed wildly around;
then fixing her eyes On the stranger, she
seemed spell bound a moment, then as
her reason grew clearer she almost Shrek
ed.
Yes, Carrie.you are right. [ am here
to help you; don't talk any more. you
are very weak
| With full realization of what had
happened, she sank back exhausted.
The blow had been too severe after long
lingering days and nights of suffering.
Poor human nature was too weak. After
the funeral she was carried to a pleasant
room surrounded by every luxury she
could wish, while at her side, with IN
firing devotion, sat Burton Clston.-
For weeks she fingered, even whom the
lamp of hope seemed almost extineuish-
ed, there sat the faithful watcher,
until at last his care was rewarded by
the assurance that the crisis was past,
and her, whom he had loved, would be
well with the care she was receiving.
One bright morning in May, a few
weeks after Carrie (for such we shall now
call herr stood by the grave of her hus-
band and two darling children; by her
side stood Burton, tender, loving and
true. Suddenly she looked up and with
voice Of sadness said:
Burton, did my mother forgive me
| before she died ?''
why, Carrie, what strange fancy is
| this %
The man that was my husband, told
me, she, my dear injured mother, was
dead. Oh, has heaven yet little pity
for my poor broken heart; tell me, Bur-
ten, tell me thai she, my mother still
lives, and | will yet kiss the rod that has
so afflicted me-"
Yes, Carrie, your mother still lives,
and think. must have reached here by
this time; you shall soon see her; I sent
Tor them, my mother and yours, and
now We must hasten to meet them"
ooh. Burton, this is the happiest and
sadest moment of my ife'
ITO me, dear Carrie, it is also happy