River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1876-10-05
The Tired Child's Entry Into Rest-A Moth
ers Story.

was little Abey, Aunt ThuSy
''He was our fust baby, deary; an
he died when he was short o four
year ole. But can see him jess as
plain as print this mint, with his yal-
Ter hair curlin' up tight, like dandy
lion-stems when We split 'em an wet
'em, an his eyes bluer nor any blum
bag could make 'em, an his mouth
like little cinnymun rose. i 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 your little cub, Thusy.
"He warn't very strong, never he
didn't look sickly or pindlen', but he
warn rugged, he was quiet-like an.
diffunt from other chilun. He'd set
most all day in his little chair watch
in me do my work, an ev'ry time /
turned roun' to see if he was all right
he'd smile up to me an | couldn tell
We how all-over that smile O. his'n
made me feel, kinder good, an yit
it hurt somewheres, an I'd stop my
work whatever | was adoin' an hug
him up to me minnit. An he'd say
such nice things, so Old-fashiOned like.
Pa used to tell him Stories-he beats
all at stories, pa does, more partic lar
stories outer Scripters-an' one time
he tells him bout Cain an Abil. Now
the baby was named Abil, hisSelf, an
SO he lissened just as sharp, an pa
cum to where Cain hit his brother an
killed him dead as door-nail, his lit
tie mouth puckered, an the tears they
came a rollin' down his face and he
says, Poor Tain J Why it's Abil
that's dead says pa. an Cain he was
the bad 'un that killed him. But it
didn't make no diffunce, the little
creeter KEEP asayin', Poor Tain Abey
gone ter hebben, had good time, Poor
Tain We coulden' make up our
MINIS what that boyd be when he
grew up. Sometimes we'd make it
out he'd be boOkmaker, cause he was
so set on books"
He'd take the Pilgrims Progress
an turn it over an over, jest us if he
could make it all out :; an he'd pick
out Robson Crusoe outer the hull pile
o. books, Jest by the blue kiver. An
aoin' we'd conceit he'd be a picter-
painter, for he'd spend hours DRAWN
with piece 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 a builder an
when he'd sail ships aroun' in the
wash tub, then there was nothin'
fort but he must be sailor, a cap n
or Seech.
sBut Abey he didn't grow rugged.
He looked scrawny an bleached like,
an wouldn t run arOun' an play, nor
do anything but set still. An he was
alters sayin, I'm tired, pa; I'm
tired, ma. We might hole him in our
laps, or lay him on his trundle bed, or
set him in his stuffed chair, IL didn t
make no diffunce, he'd keep on sayin'
I'm tired, ma I'm tired, pa
"I'd gin everythin' | had IN this
livin' world if | could foun airy way
to rest that baby. Sometimes Id fix
| him so nice in my arms. with his CURLY
head layin right on my shol'er an my
| face down on his'n, an Id say, 20,
Abey, We amt tired now We air cum
futable now layin' in mas arms Z
an he'd smile up ter me an put up his
han an stroke my face, but he'd say
'Lickle tired, ma, tickle tired
Seemed s if his pa cOulden' bear
| it, he was that onreconciled. God a
mighty might fin some way o restin'
sech alittle might of cOsset as Abbey,
saws he. 'Ye mus keep askin him
pa SAYS /; an many's the time I've
heerd him get up in the night an
whop down OH his knees an say, cry
in an cryin, % God, little Abbey
haint got no rest yit; do jest stop his
bein' tired somehow
sBut he got tireder an tireder, an
KEEP a dwinlin' an pindlin', an at last
there cum day when he gin up an
was lest clear beat cut. lie got outer
| his trundle-bed, an he tried to walk,
but he went sozzlin' one side an 10th
er, an most tumbled 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 agin I'm SO tired, pa {;
tired, ma till our hearts was most a
Dustin. The doctor he cum an gin
him suthin, an shook his head an
went away, an there we sat lookln
at him, an soppin the sweat of his
forrid, an fannin' him, an tryln' to
smile back again when he looked up SO
sweet; an finely he opined his two
eyes wide an he looked right UP at
the plasterin' an the tired kinder
slipt off his face, an there cum shl'
nv light all over it, an he says right
out as clear an sweet as q bobbylink
saws he Amt tired, ma; amt tired, pa
an then he laid his little white cheek
down ON his mite of han an he shot
his long eyewinkeTs down over his
blue ewes, an he never stirred again
"An' Seth he whopped down on his
knees an he screeched out No, no
God. not that way | didn't meer
! for We to rest him that a way. An
got right down by him, an says,
sobbin' an cryin', says ], Yes, y
did, pa We didn't know it, but y
meant it all the time. Twas the on
way says /, an God knew twas. An
little Abey warn't tired no more, an
was glad o. that. But now he's had !
good long rest, an l do want to see
/ him bad -
And the dear old woman wiped he
eyes, which glistened in the fireligh
with those rare tears the aged shed
{ while Uncle Seth gave a choking sob
and starting up, "Scuse me J! said he
sI'm the beaten for snorin'
7 Ch2pped hands, face, pimp les. Tini
{ worm, saltrheum, and other eutaneous afec
-. 81 10 cnt~ an