Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1871-05-05
= = = II = = AM = 4 a ? 4 u a.
" SHE HAS OUTLINED HER USE
n---..- y FIU.NESS.3,E ~


r Tsr6eI,I FUJlL FUJLlNSEEsss."6 \ EEssss. "6irJI1
Not long since good-looking man in
middle life came to our door asking for
the minister. When informed that
he was out of town he seemed disap-
pointed and anxious. On being ques-
toned as to his business, he replied, II
have lost my mother, and as this place
used to be her home, and as my father
lies here, we have come to lay her be-
side him." -s~&
Our heart rose in sympathy. and
we said, "You have met with a great
loss" #..#
"Well-yes," replied the strong man,
with some hesitancy, "a mother is
great loss in general; but our mother
had outlived her usefulness. She was
in her second childhood, and her mind
was grown as weak as her body, so that
she was no comfort to herself and was
burden to everybody. There were
seven of us sons and daughters and as
we could not find any one who would
board her, we agreed to keep her
among us year about. But | have
had more than my share of her, for she
was too feeble to be moved about when
my time was out, and that was more
than three months before her death.
But then she was good mother in her
day, and toiled very hard to bring us
up"
Without looking at the face of the
heartless man we directed him to the
house of a neighboring pastor and re-
turned to the nursery. We gazed on
the merry little faces which smiled or
grew sad in imitation of ours those
little ones to whose ear no word in our
language is half SO sweet as mother"
and we wondered if that day could ever
come when they would say of us, "She
has outlived her usefulness-she is no
comfort to herself and burden to
everybody else p and we hoped that be-
fore such day would dawn we might
be taken to our rest God forbid that
we should outlive the love of our chill
dren Rather let us die while our
hearts are part of their own, that our
grave may be watered with their tears
and our love linked with their hopes of
heaven.
When the bell tolled for the mothers
burial we went to the sanctuary to
pay our only token of respect to
the aged stranger: for we felt that we
could give her memory tear, even
though her own children had none to
shed. .@f ''
"She 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,
heartless words rung in our ears as we
saw the coffin borne up the aisle. The
bell tolled long and loud, until its iron
tongue had chronicled the years of the
toil-worn mother. One--two-three
four-ive. How clearly and almost
merrily each stroke told of her once
peaceful slumber in her mothers bo-
som, and of her seat at nightfall on her
weary fathers knees. Six-seven-
eight-nine-ten-rang out the tale
of her sports upon the greensward, in
the meadow and beside the brook.
Eleven - twelve = thirteen = fourteen
spoke more gravely of school days and
little household joys and cares. Six
teen = eventeen-eighteen- = sounded
out the enraptured visions of maiden
hood and the dream of early love.
Nineteen, brought before us the happy
bride. Twenty, spoke of the young
mother, whose 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 wo-
manhood-of the loves, and cares, and
hopes, and fears, and tolls through
which she passed during these 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 Seventy-sev-
wo-three-four. She be-
gins to grow feeble, requires some care,
is not always perfectly patient or salts
fed she goes from one child's house to
another, so that no one place seems like
home. She murmurs in plaintive tones,
and after all her toll and weariness, it is
hard she cannot be allowed a home to
die in that she must be sent rather than
invited from house to house. Eighty
eighty -two-three-four. All, she
is now 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 pro-
fitable to her earth-craving and money
grasping children.
Now sounds out, ,reverberating through
our lovely forest, and echoing back from
our chill of the dead" eighty nine
There she lies now in the coffin, cold
and still-she makes no trouble now,
demands no love, no soft words, no ten
der little offices. A look of patient en-
durance-we fancied also an expression
of grief for unrequited love--sat on her
marble features. Her children were
there clad in weeds of woe, and in
irony we remembered the strong mans
words, "She was a good mother in her
day.
i When the bell ceased tolling the
strange minister rose 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 tenderness
when gray hairs are on him, and his