Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1874-08-01
WHOLE NO. 2,s24.

ton-her pleading means mingled with
the wall of the blast and sharp cry OF
the babe. But my work was not yet
completed
Il turned to the little bed where lay
my elder son, and snatched him from
his slumbers, and against his half-awak
ened struggles | opened the door and
thrust him out In agony of fear he
called me by name | was no longer fit
to bear, and locked his fingers into my
side pocket. could not wrench the
frenzied grasp away; and with the
eoollness of deEil-as l was shut
the door upon the arm. and with my
knife severed il at the wrist"
The speaker ceased moment, and
buried his face in his hands, as If to
shut out some fearful dream, and his
deep chest heayed like storm at sea.
My father had arisen from his seat,
and was leaning forward his counter
ance bloOdless, and the large drops
standing upon his brow. Chills erept
back to my young heart, and wished
| was at home. The old man looked
up, and never have since beheld such
mortal agony pictured on human face
as there was on his.
1T was morning when | aWoke, and
the storm had ceased, but the cold was
intense. | first secured a drink Of
water, and then looked in the aecus-
toned place for Mary. As 1 missed
her, for the first time shadOwy scene
of some horrible nightmare began to
draw upon my wandering mind. |
thought | had had a terrible dream,
but invOluntarily opened the outside
door with shuddering dread. As the
door opened the snow burst in, followed
by the fall of something across the
threshold, scattering the snow, and
striking the floor with sharp sound.
My blood shot like red-het arrows
through my veins, and / rubbed my
eyes to shut out the sight 1t vast
% God how terriblel It was my
own injured Mary and her babe frozen
to ice? The ever true mother had
bowed herself over the face of the
child to shield it, and wrapped all her
clothing round it, leaving her own per-
son stark and bare to the storm. She
had placed her hair over the face of
the child, and the sleet ha9 frozen it
to the white cheek. The frost was
white on its half-opened eyes, and upon
its tiny fingers. | know not what be-
came of my brave boy"
Again the old man bowed his head
and wept. My father sobbed like
child. In tones of low and heart t-bro-
ken pathos, the old man thus contin-
ued:
Il was arrested, and for long months
raved in delirium. | woke-was SEN
fenced to prison ten years-but no tor
lures could have been like those | en-
dured within my own bosom. Oh,
God, no II am not fanatic. / wish
to injure no one. BGtwhile live, let
me live to urge others not to enter the
path which has been so dark and fear
tul a one to me. would see my wife
and children beyond this vale of
tears"
The old man sat down, but a spell
as deep and strong as that wrought By
some wizards breath rested upon the
audience. Hearts could have been
heard in their beating, and tears TO
fall. The old man then asked the
people to sign a pledge. My father,
leaped from his seat and snatehed at it
l had followed him, and as
he hesltated a moment with the pen in
the ink, a tear fell from the old mans
eye on the paper.
Sign it, sign it, young man. An
gels would sign it. l would write my
name there ten thousand times in
blood if it would bring back my loved
and lost ones"
My father wrote Mortimer Hud-
son." The old man looked, wiped his
fearful eyes and looked again, his
alternately flushed with
red and deadly pale.
at is-no, it cannot be-yet how
strange, muttered the old man. Par
don me, sir, but that was the name of
my brave boy"
My father trembled and held up his
left arm, from which the hand had
been severed.
They looked for a moment in each
others eyes; both reeled and grasp
ed
my own injured boyF
My tatherl"
They fell upon each others neek's
until it seemed that their souls would
grow and mingle into one. There was
weeping in that church, and | turned
bewildered upon the streaming faces
around me.
Let me thank God for this great
has gladdened my guilt
burdened soul, exclaimed the old
man, and kneeled down, pouring outhis
heart in one of the most melting prayr
ers | ever heard. The spell was then
broken, and all eagerly signed the
pledge slowly going to their homes,
as if loath to leave the spot.
The old man is dead, but the lesson
he taught his grandehild on his knee,
rs the evening sun went down with a
cloud, will never be forgotten. His
a 'fanaticism" has lost none of its FIRE
in my manhood's heart.