The Placer herald., 1871-09-09
SHE HAS OUTLIyED HER USEFULNESS

Not long since man in middle life came
to our door asking for the minister. When
told that he was out Of town, he seemed dis
appointed and anxious. On being questioned
| as to his business, he answered.
II have lost my mother, and as this house
used to be her home, and as my father lies
here, We have come to lay her beside him."
My heart rose in sympathy, and l said,
"You have met with great loss"
"Well, yes" be replied with hcstancy,
"a mother is a great loss in general, but our
mother bod --..i:---l L.. .,sef,iliess. She
was in her second childhood, and her mind
had grown as weak as her body, so she was
no comfort to herself, and was burden to
everybody. There were seven of us, sons
and daughters; and we agreed to keep her
among us, year about. But l had more
than my share of her, for she was too feeble
to be moved when my time was out, and
that was three months before she died. But
she was good mother in her day, and toiled
hard to bring lis up"
Without looking at the face of the heart
less man, directed him to the house of
neighboring pastor, and returned to my nur-
sery. gazed Oh the merry little faces
which smiled or grew sad in imitation Of
mine-those little ones to whose ear no word
in our language is half so sweetas mother"
and wondered if that day could ever come
when they would say of me, "she has out
lived her usefulness" is no comfort to
herself, and a burden to everybody else
God forbid that should outlive the love of
my children Rather let me die while my
heart is part of theirs, that my grave may
be watered with their tears, and my love
linked with their hopes of heaven.
When the bell tolled for the mothers bu-
rial, went to the sanctuary to pay my only
token of respect to the aged stranger; for ]
! felt that | could give her memory tear, even
| though her children had none to shed.
"Shc was a good mother in her day, and
| toiled hard to bring us all up-she was no
comfort TO herself and burden to everybody
else!'' These cruel, hcartless words rung in
my ears as saw the coffin borne up the
aisle The bell tolled long and loud, until
its iron tongue had chroniclcd the years of
the toil-wom mother. One--two-thrcc-
four-ive. How clearly and almost merrily
each stroke told of her once peaceful slumber
| III her mother arms and of her seat atnight-
-nlne -ten--rang out lllc tale of her sports
! upon the greensward, in the meadow and bc-
side the brook. Eleven-twelye-thi thirteen
-lourieen--spokc of her schoodays, and
little household joys and cares. Sixteen
seventeen eghteeli--sounded out The en-
rapturcd visions of maidenlood and dreams
of early love. Nnetccn-brousht us before
the happy bride Twcnty-spoke Of the
young mother. vhcsc heart was full to burst
ing with the new, strong love which God had
awakened in her bosom. And then stroke
after stroke told of her early womanhood-
Of the loves, and cares, and hopes, and fears,
and tolls through which she passed during
those long years, till fifty rang out harsh and
loud. From that to sixty, each stroke told
of the warm-hearted mother and grand
mother, living over again her own joys and
sorrows in those of her children and children's
children.
Every family of all the group wanted
grandmother, then, and the only strife was
who should secure the prize. But, bark,
the bell tolls on !! Sevcnty-seventy- cone
two--three- four. She begins to grow fee
Bile, requires some care, is not always patient
or satisfied; she goes from one child's house
to another, so that no place seems like home.
She murmurs in plaintive tones, that after
all her toll and WEAKNESS, it is hard she can
not be allowed home to die in; that she
must be sent rather than invited from house
to house. Eighty-eighty y-one--two-- three
four. All she is second child now,
"she has outlived her usefulness, she has
now ceased to be comfort to herself or any
body"-that is, she has ceased to be profit
able to her earth-craving and money grasping
children.
Now sounds out, reverberatng through
our lovely forest, and echoing back from our
chill of the dead '-eight y-nine There she
lies now, in the coffin, cold and still; she
makes no trouble now, demands no love, no
soft words, no tender little offices. A look
of patient endurance-we fancied also an
expression of grief for unrequited love-sat
on her marble features. Her children were
there, clad in the weeds of woe, and in irony
we remembered the strong mans words,
"She was good mother in her day."
When the bell ceased tolling, the strange
ninister arose in the pulpit. His form was
very erect, and his voice strong, but his hair
was silvery white. He read several passages
Of Scripture expressive of Gods compassion
to feeble man, and especially Of His tender
ness when gray hairs are on him and his
strength faileth. He then made some touch
ing remarks on human fraity, and Of depend
ence on God, urging all present to make
their peace with their. Master while in health
that they might claim his promises when
heart and flesh failed them. "Then the
eternal God shall be thy refuge, and beneath
thee shall be the everlasting arms" Leaning
over the desk and gazing illtently on the cof-
fined form before him, he then said, rever-
emily: "From little child have honored
the aged; but never till gray hairs covered
my own head did know truly how much
love and sympathy this class have right to