The Van Buren press., 1875-05-04


see my children once more: do let them
come in and bid me farewell.
Here she was so overwhelmed with
sobs and tears as to prevent her saying
more.
The doctsr perceived that it was in
vain to talk to. or try TO reason with
her, assured her that as long as there
was life there was hope. ard told her he
would give her some medicine that he
did not doubt would help her lie ac
cordingly administered the drugs usual
ly approved by the faculty in such cases,
and telling her that he would call and see
her again in day or two he took his de
parture
As he went out, Mr. Weodsum follow
/ ed him, and desired to know in private
his real opinion of the case The doctor
assured him he did not consider il at all
alarming. 1t was an ordf.ary ease OF
| hypoehondria, and with gosd treatment
the patient would undoubtedly soon be
! better.
This is a case continued the doctor,
! in which the mind needs to be admins
tered to as much as the body. Divert
her attention as much as possible by
cheerful objects; let her be surrounded
by agreeable company; give her light,
but generous diet; and, as soon as may
be, get her to take gentle exercise in the
open air, by riding on horseback, or run
ming about the fields and gathering fruits
or flowers III company with cheerful and
lively companions Follow these direc-
tons, and continue to administer the
medicines | aave ordered and | think
Mrs. Woodsum will soon enjoy good
health again
Mr.. Woodsum felt much relieved after
hearing the doctors directions, and in a
few days he had the happiness to see his
beloved wife again enjoying complete
health and pursuing her domestic duties
with cheerfulness.
But alas all his hopes were destined
to be displaced by the clouds of sorrow
and distress.
In consequence CT neglect Of proper
precaution, changes in the weather, and
changes in her habits of living there was
a return of Mrs. Woodsum's gloom and
despondency in all their terrific power.
Again she was signing and weeping on
the bed, and again Mr. Woodsum was
hastily summoned from the field, and
leaving his rlow mid furrow, ran with
breathless anxiety to the house, where
the scenes were again witnessed which
we have already described.
Not only once or twice, but repeated.
lv, week after week and month aftel
month these alarms were given and fol
lowed by similar results. Every relapse
seemed to be more severe than the last
and on each occasion Mrs. Woodsum be
came more positive thaPAever that sht
was on her death bed, and that there was
no longer any help for her.
On one Of these occasions, So strong
was her impression that her dissolution
was near, and so anxious did she appear
to make every preparation for death, ant
with such solemn earnestness did she at
tend to certain details preparatory to lea
wing her family forever, that Mr. Wood
sum almost lost hope. Most tenderly
did Mrs Woodspm touch upon the sub
ject Of her separation from her husband
and the children
Our poor children--what will become
of them when | am gone? And you
dear Samuel, how Gun bear the though
of leaving you? | could feel reconciled
to dying, if it was not for the thought o.
leaving you and the children. They will
have no one to take care of them as
mother would, poor things; and ther
you will be so lonesome--it breaks my
heart to think of it,
Here her feelings overpowered her, an'
she was unable to proceed any ful ther
Mr. Woodsum was for some time toe
much affected to make any reply.
At last, summoning all his fortitude
and as much calmness as he could, h,
told her that it was the will of Providenc,
that she should be separated from them
he hoped her last hours would not b,
panied with anxious solicitude about th
future welfare of the family.
1t was true, the world would be
dreary place to him when she was gone
but he should be separated from them h,
ed with anxious solicitude about the fu
ture welfare Of the family.
1t was true. the world would be but
drcary place to him when she was gone
but he should keep the children with hin
and, with the blessing of heaven, h,
thought he should be able to make then
comfortable and happy.
'Wcll, there's one thing, dear Samuel,
said Mrs. WoodsutE. that feel it my
duty to speak to you about And sh'
pressed his hand in hers, and looked mos
solemnly and earnestly in his face Yot
know, my dear she continued. how sa,
and desolate a family of children is, whel
deprived Of mother feel as if /
would be your dnty-and could not di,
in peace if didn't speak of it--I feel
dear Samuel, as if it would be your duty
as soon after am gone, as would appea
decent to marry some good woman, ant
bring her into the family to be mother
to our poor childrep, and to make you
home happy
This remark was to Mr.. Woodsum
most unexpected and painful 1t forced
upon his contemplation a thought tha
had never before occurred to him. Tn,
idea of being bereaved of the wife of his
bosom, whom he had loved and cherish
ed for fifteen years, with the ardent at
tachment Of a fond husband. had over
whelmcd him with all the bitterness o
woe.
Shn uitht ho removed from him tf