The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1873-06-20


q had wept the day before. This was ap
parently unreasonable but she was
learning the value of kindness by con.
trast-a miserable lesson that must
come, sooner or later, to all. Two OF
three more days passed, and the baby
pined and grew worse, until Amy, who
could not leave it, took it in her arm,
and went down the hill. then up the
main street toward the divide, looking
wistfully for doctors signs. Seeing one
at length, she turned into the office.
The doctor was not there, and, after
waiting some time, she left an urgent
order, describing as well as she could
on the slate, the situation of her cabin,
and went home. The day was hot, and
the trip did not benefit the child. At
evening, it was so much worse that she
felt it, and ran quickly to house where
she had seen children playing, and so
hoped to touch mothers sympathy.
Fearing she should again be repulsed,
before her errand was told, she precipi-
lately cried out, go won't you come
and stay with me tonight ? my baby is
| sick" A kindly glance overspread the
woman's face for an instant, but she was
| the unwilling mother of a numerous off
spring, which had persisted intact
through all the minor details of child
hood, from collie to scarlet fever, so that
| she did not regard sick child as very
appalling circumstance. Moreover she
was a good Methodist sister, who had
given the small entirety of her being to
| her Lord, but had not yet burst the
chrysalis-shell of her narrow limita-
tions, and thinking thus to please her
Master, she was always making the gate
straiter and the way narrower than he
who built them. To her, falling from
grace seemed like an ever-impending
calamity, ready to surprise her at any
instant, and since her residence at Gold
Hill, its Protean form most often as
sumed the shape of the -" worlds peo-
pie" especially those of reputed laxity
of virtue. So when she asked Amy
where she lived, and what friends she
had, an unfortunate memory of some
thing she had overheard "the men,
folks" say prompted frigid excuse.
Amy turned away with chill at her
heart The world, that hitherto had
been her nursing mother, had suddenly
cast her off The air was sitting, and
the blue concavity of sky above seemed
like the cover of an exhausted receiver
closing down upon her.
All that night she carried her little
one to and fro, and sang tender lula
bies, until her own voice frightened her
into silence. The whir of the mills
never ceased, and confused sound of
bacchanal revelry mingled with it from
the saloons below. The night previous,
in her wakefulness, Amy had heard
vaguely a short alteration, scuff1ing
sound, and then two quick reports of
pistol near her dwelling, and, while In
the doctors office, she had read an item
in the paper which made her blood run
cold. The paragraph was quite unique
in its way, being couched in an emotion
less brevity worthy of Euclid 1t is,
however, but justice to the editorial
heart of that period and locality to say
that the frequency of such occurrences
necessitated either an unobstrusive
terseness or an attractive fatiousness of
statement, in order to add to the popu-
larity and financial success of the paper.
Yet it did not have good effect upon
Amy, wko had imbibed certain antigua
ted notions concerning the sacredness
of human life. Still, she was not afraid
now. A certain pallor and bluness
about the eyes, and a pinched contrac-
tion of baby's dimpled chin, lifted her
above fear, into the regions of awe.
She heard an approaching footstep, and
ran out and asked man, who was pass
ing, to go for a doctor quick. The man
consented, and turned back, as if to go
at once, but he was drunk, and never
reached his destination.
Some houIs later, the minor who had
compassionated Amy at the spring
passed along on his way to his ''morn-
ing shift" He had a tin lunch-pail in
his hand, and a hard, prosaic expression
on his grimmy face. He was not ap-
pareptly a favorable medium through
which subtitle spiritual influence might
scent out trouble and send relief But
as he neared the little cabin, he remem-
bered its occupant, and fell to wonder
ing who she was, and how such little
timid creature came to be there alone.
Perhaps it was the peaceful hush of
earth, and air, and sky, that sent rush
of gentle thoughts through his mind
perhaps it was the sudden uprising of
far-off memory that made him turn
when he had passed, with look of pro-
lection at the cabin. All was quiet, |
and he wondered to see the Pickering
of a lamp within, dimmed by the morn
ing sun. The door was aiar, and he
felt strange impulse to enter. There
was no response to his light knock, and
he pushed the door a trife further
open. There was Amy-tearless, and
rigid almost as the lifeless baby in her
arms. The horror that had rested in
the child's eyes during the last convul-
sive agony had transferred itself now
to the amazed mothers, and there was
only peace and beauty on the baby
face.
o We whose tender buds of promise
have been plucked from fairest gardens,
which lacked neither dew nor rain,
thank God that you were spared the
sharper anguish of those patient mourn
ers who have watched the light of life
go out, for lack of the abundance just
beyond their grasp-forever haunted by
the memory of childish eyes full of un-
reasoning appeals for simplest comforts
which they could not give.
The miner dropped his lunch-pail and
his awkwardness together, and gently
disengaging the child, laid Amy on her
bed, and ran for brandy and female as
sistance Entertaining vague convic-
ton that minister would constitute
an appropriate feature of the scene, he
afterward left the Methodist sister de-
voutly hoping that the Lords dealings
might not be in vain, and giving the
hapless mother many pious exhorta-
tions, walked to Virginia, in quest of
recent ecclesiastical importation which
that city possessed in the person of
young Episcopal rector. There was a
funeral that afternoon, at the expense of
the miner and his friends, for sympathy
in that climate generally takes a cir
cuitous route through the pocket. Amy
was. quiet and fearless again and the
Methodist sister despairingly remarked,
as she was enjoying her first drive in
Washoe at the vicarious expense al
ready mentioned, "that it was mighty
strange how hard-hearted some folks
were; for if Mollie should die now, in
one of her croupy spells, she should
take on awfully, she was sure; but,
then, there was no accountin' for the
difference in people, $and for her part,
she could never be too thankful that
the Lord had made her to differ AMI
she hoped it would be lesson to them
ALL" Probably it was lesson, for they