Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1875-04-28
WOODSTOCK, W., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 49, 1875.

From some abyss of horror, some
horrible rack of delirious agony, /
have q faint memory of being recalled
to dim conciousness of realities by a
low sweet voice saying:
"Drink this !"
Something cool and pleasantly bit,
ter was put to my parched lips, and
over every sense crept q torpor a
gentle soothing to slumber, till all
consciousness died in deep, profound
sleep-I did not know how long /
slept, but l awoke with every sense
clear, and the fever fancies all gone.
looked about me. l was perfect
ly conscious that I had lost my reason
in bare and desolate room, where
the sun streamed IN through dirty
windows, and the barest necessities OF
life around me were of the poorest de-
scription. I looked at the windows
shaded by dark, green paper, and soft
muslin curtains at the floor scrubbed
and sweet smelling at the bed-linen,
white, clean and cool at q little ia
BILE beside me with snowy cloth, up
on which lay great white grapes, lus-
cious oranges, tamarinds in goblets of
water Then l feebly turned my
head to see, standing beside me, with
anxious tenderness in her soft blue
eyes, my mother in-law.
you must not talk" she said very
gently, her soft hand falling upon my
forehead like a snowflake, "but try to
keep very quiet. All is well at home.
hear from Susy every day. She is
getting well fast, and your son is in
splendid health.
"My son ?"
"Now l have given you pleasant
thought to dream upon, try to sleep
again. But first take drink of beef
tea. 1t should taste of home, for I
brought the condensed beef in cans
from your Uncle Israel's store. He
sent the grapes and oranges, and lot
of good things, you shall have by and
by"
'But you 2" I said wondering still
''are you not afraid of the fever 2"
81 have taken all prudent precau.
tion,' was the reply, "and my fear
was not so strong as my love for my
son."
"Thank you, mother" / whispered,
and saw through my own misty
eyes, her lips quiver, as called her
by that name for the first time.
Can l tell you how she nursed me
back to health, humoring my fancies,
yet guarding against all hurtful indul-
gencies ? All the CHEEKY letters Susy
wrote, she read to me, and answered
for me, till my own weak fingers
could guide pencil. In her thought
full affection, she had packed in the
wonderful trunk light reading to be-
guile the hours of convalescense.
When l could set up, she exerted her
ingenuity to keep me from feeling
lonesome, and would talk unwearied
ly of that wonderful two-days' baby,
with eyes blue as patch of summer
skies, and mouth like cleft rose
bud Susy's letters were a great COM
fort, and answering them, giving
humorous accounts of our wretched
accommodations, occupied many
hours.
But the uay came ct last when the
doctor said that might start for home
without fear of carrying the contagion
with me. Carefully we destroyed
every article that could endanger our
dear ones, and started for Memphis
with the pleasing certainty, that, no
accident befalling, we could travel by
easy stages, and reach home before my
boy completed the second month of
his little life.
The unwearied tenderness that had
brought me back from the jaws of
death removed all discomforts from
the journey, and arranged for all need
full rest.
1t was early in the morning when
we reached the city and drove across
it to our country like home. But the
carriage, instead of stopping before
our cottage gate, turned in the gate
way of the opposite house, driving up
a wide, shaded avenue to where, upon
the porch Susy was waiting, with our
boy in her arms I could not ask
questions then 1t was enough to
fold my treasures in my arms in utter
thankfulness. But when Susy led the
way to the wide drawing-room, furn-