Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-06-04

in. 1 stopped at Halifax 1t is dull,
| cold, miserable place. They kept us three
days at Baltimore to discharge cargo. At
| Cincinnati my luggage was smashed, and
! had to purchase deal boxes to pack in.
| They charged me a sovereign for them.
I was detained one day at ST. Louisa
nasty, gloomy, smoky place, is it not, sir?
| At Leavenworth they refused to take nv
English gold for my hotel bill, and | was
| in great trouble and distress. Did I get
my luggage all right? Yes. sir. There
| is nine hundred pounds of it. Why did
bring so much, did you say? WHY,
sir, nv husband wrote me that he had got
a perfect little Eden of place in Colora-
| do. Yes. sir, he calls our new home
Eden, and I thought l would bring as
many of the old things from home as
possible, and | brought box of tea. a
barrel of sugar, several bolts Of long cloth
some boots and clothing, and at least a
hundred different kinds of garden seeds.
We will be so happy when [ get home.
But, sir (crying), l really think I never
will reach home again. Three weeks OF
travel all alone has nearly cost me nv
life.
"Whatis my husband doing in Colorado.
did YOU saw, sir? He is sheep farming
He was a tailor and gentlemen's furnisher
in Gloster. We lived in one house for
nineteen years. Nv father kept the business
before married my husband. We were
doing very well and getting rich, but nv
husband. who had been sailor when a
boy. and who was born in Brazil was
ALWAYS disconnected and wanted to travel
In an evil hour | consented to sell out our
business in Gloe+er. He took e5, 600 with
him and started to Colorado. His letters
which he wrote from Colorado were yerv
interesting; they were printed in our
county paper at home. Oh, sir, if you
only could know how tired am of travel,
ing, how lonesome | feel here upon these
plains, so many thousands of miles from
my dear old home, you would realize
how anxious / am to meet my husband"
The sun and the train rolled on west
ward, and toward evening on the second
day out from Kansas City came in sight
of BUou. My fellow-passenger was all
hustle and excitement; she had been half
dozen times to the glass to adjust her
hair and apparel. The beautiful little
boy in his Scotch cap, blue jacket, and
black stockings had had his golden locks
freshly curled, his rosy cheeks washed,
and stood upon the Car seat looking out
of the window-looking for Father"
ooh, mother, [ think [ see father"
said Charley. "No, mother, it is some
one else. Oh, I see a coffin, mother; some
person is Dead they are taking the coffin
out of wagon, mother. There it is,
mother; there, we are past it now. Now
| we shall see father, we are home" The
train stopped. The weary, traveled-soiled
neice of Charles Dickens gathered up her
parcels and her clOaks, and stepped out
| upon the wild, bleak spot called Biiou
Station. The passengers, all interested
in the talkative and unsophisticated pair
of travellers, crowded to the windows of
the car to witness the expected meeting
between husband and wife. They saw it.
While her baggage was being tumbled
out Of the car she stood with her baby in
her arms and her boy by her side gazing
around upon the strange scene, and peer
ing eagerly among the rOugh-clad ranch
men and plainsmen for the face which
alone of all others she wished to see.
A rough-loOking but polite ranchman
stepped forward and, with a clumsy bow
and bashfuI manner, inquired who the
Madam desired to see. -
want my husband, Mr.. Henry Les
ter. Does he not keep a sheep and cattle
farm near here?"
"He did, madam" answered the ranch
man, sadly; but he's rounded up his
herd for the last time There he is in
that coffin, died last Wednesday night,
and we're sendin' the body back to Den
yer, accordin' to his last Instructions
He died of congestion of the bowels,
madam. Beg pardon, madam, but are
you his --''
He did not finish his sentence, but
stepped forward to catch the falling form
of my fellow-traveler, who was carried to
the car in swoon. The little boy ut
tered a piteous wall of grief, while [ led
him sObbing back to the car which this
wearied, travel-tired pair had left a min
ute before so hopeful and so happy.
There were many wet eyes in that car just
then, mine among the rest, as l held the
beautiful boy sobbing to my breast.
l saw my feliOw-uaveler twice again,
once when she followed her husband to
his last resting place, attended by one
solitary carriage and four mOurners, and
again last Monday morning, when, pale,
sad, and bowed with grief, she started
with her fair-haired boy upon her long
journey back to the quiet shade and Sc
clusion of her old home within the
shadows Of Gloster Cathedral.