The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1876-09-29
LITTLE ABBEY.
The Tired Child's Entry Into Rest-A
MOtaer's STORY.

versatior, said suddenly, "Ps, jever think
little Abey might ben painterT
Uncle Seth did not reply, and l, think
ing that he had fallen asleep In the genial
warmth, said softly, "Who was little
Abey, Aunt Thusy?'
ale was our fust badly, deary; an he
died when he was short o four yenr ole.
But l can see him jest rs plain AS print
this mint, with his waller hair curtin up
tight, like dannylion.stems when We split
'em an wet 'em, an his eyes bluer nor
any blum bag could make EN-, an his
mouth like a little cinnymun rose. l
never see baby like him; | said so from
the fust, when pa put him in my arms,
so little an pink as he was, an says a
laughin' though the water stood in his
eyes, Take yer little cub, Thusy.
ale warn't very strong, never; he
didn't look sickly nor pindlen,' but he
warn't rugged, he was quiet-like an
ditfunt from other chilun, He'd set most
all day in his little chair watchin' me
do my work, an ev'ry time | turned
roun' to see if he was all right he'd smile
up to me; an l couldn't tell ye how all
over that smile q his'n made me feel
kinder good, an yit as if it hurt some
where's, an I'd stop my work whatever
was adoin, an hug him up to me minnit.
An he say such wise things, so old
fashioned like. Pa used to tell HIM sto-
ries-he beats all at stories, pa does, more
particular stories outer Scriptures-an'
one time he tells him bout Cain an Ebil
Now the baby was named Abil, hissclf,
an So ne !issened Just MS sharp, an when
pa cum to where Cain hit his brother an
killed him dead rs doornai!, his little
mouth puckered, an the tears they came
n roiiin down his face, an he says Poor
Tainr why It's Abi that's dead says
pa, an Cain he was the bad 'un that kill
ed him. But it didn't make no ditiuncc,
the little creeter KEEP, sayin' Poor laii
Abey gone ter hebbcn, had good tim,
Poor Tain We couldn't make up OF.
Minis what that boyd be when he grew
up. Sometimes we'd make it out he'd b.
bookmaker, cause he Was so set on
books. He'd take the Pilgrims Progress
an turn it over an over jest as ii he
could make il all out; an he'd pick out
Robinson Crusoo outer the hull pile q
books, Jest by the blue kiver. An agin'
we'd conceit he'd be n pcterpainter, for
he'd spen' hours drawn with apiece o
chalk. An he'd make sech cute little
housens outer blocks an spools, and then
his pa would have it he was goin' to be Il
builder; an when he'd sail ships aroun'
in the wash. tub then there was nothin'
ont but he mus be sailor, Il cap'n, or
seCh.
"But ABBEY he didn't grow rugged. He
looked scrawny on bleachcd like, an
wouldn't run aroun' al play, nor do any
thin but set still. An he was alters Il
sayin,' Pm tired pa; Pm tired, ma
We might hole hum in our laps, or lay
him on his trundlebed, or set him in his
stuffed chair, it didn't make no dltiuncc,
he KEEP on sayin' Pm tired, ma; I'm
tired pa"
nd gin everythin' | had in this
livin' world if / could ioun' airy way to
rest THAT baby. Sometimes I'd fix him
so nice in my arms. with his curly head
u lyin' right en- my shoulder and my face
down on his n, an I'd say. 30, Abey, We
amt tired now2 Ye air cumtutable now
n living in mas arms| An he'd smile
up ter me ar put up his han an stroke
my face, but he'd say 'Licklc tired, ma;
Tickle, tired
"Seemed'S if his pa coulden' a bear 1t,
he was that onreconciled. God a'mlgh-
tv might fin sum way o rcstin' sech
little mite of cosset MS Abey,' says he.
sYe mus keep a askin' him, pa, says |;
AN many's the time I've heerd him git
up in the night an whop down on his
knees an say, cryin' an cryin', 20 God,
little Abey hint got no reese ylt; do jest
stop his ben' tired somehow.
but he got tlrder an KEEP sdwindlin,
an pindle, an at las there cum day
when he gin up an WAS jest clear beat
out He got outer his trundle-bcd, an
he tried to walk, but he went sozzlin' one
side an tOther, an most tumbed down,
an | ketched him up an laid him on the
bed, an called his pa. An there We set
an looked at him, an heered HIM say
over an agln Pm so tired pa tired ma,
till our hearts was most Dustin. The
doctor he cum an gin him suthln, and
shook his head an went away, an there
We sat lookin' at him, an soppin' the
sweat of his torriI, an fannIn' HIM, an
irving to smile back agin when he look
ed up so sweet; an finely he opncd his
two eyes wide an, he looked right up at
the plasterin, an the tired kinder sIpt
of his face, an there cum shiny light
all over it, an he says right out As clear
an sweet Ms u bobbylink, says he, Amt
tired ma; Amt tired pa an then he laid
his little white cheek down on his mite
of Il han an he short his long eye win
kers down over his blue eyes, an he
never stirred again.
"An' Seth he whopped down on his
knees an he scratched out No, no. God,
not that wayl didn't mean for ye to
rest him that way An l got hight
, down by him. an says, sobbin' an cry
in, says l, Yes, We did, pa; ye didn't
know it, but we meant it all the time.
Twas the only way says |, an God
knew twas An little Abey warn't
tired no more, an was glad of that.
But now he's had good long rest, an l
do want to see him bad!'
And the dear old woman wiped her
ewes, which glistened in the freight
with those rare tears the aged shed,
while Uncle Seth gave choking sob,
and startling up, "Scuse me, said he,
"I'm the better for snorln!
Opintons of n Leading Hayes Orator.
From the Springfield Republican:
Bob" lngersoll has very poor opin-
ion of Govern Tilden. But he has
still more unfavorsble opinion OF Jeho-
yah. Witness this extract from non
political lecture: Search the records OF
the whole world, find out the history OF
ever barbsrous tribe, and you can lind
no crime that touched lower depth OF
infamy than those the Bible of God
commanded and approved. For such
God l have no words to express my