The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1877-12-26


baby arms were flung clingingly around
the mothers neck
Take her away said Airline to tn,
girl, 81 must go"
Poor blind mother, she did not see how
flushed the little face was nor how hot tn,
tiny hands were. Putting the arms from
her neck she glided from the room even
while the piteous voice resounded there
She did not stop to see the tears stealing
down the little face, nor the imploring
arms extended toward her.
Too late Airline saw them. When the
lips were cold and still and a merciful
God had hushed forever the pitiful cry,
she heard and saw it all. When the
arms, she had carelesslv brushed away,
were stiff and cold-then she would have
given all the years of her life to have
felt once more their cinging hold.
The morning light was just family
dawning in the East, when airline
stepped from the brilliantly lighted
halls of the gay mansion into the gloom
OF the cold winter morning.
When the carriage door closed, she
leaned back against the cushioned seat
and YEARLY shut her eyes. Some how
the vision Of Maudie's hungry blue eyes
had haunted her amid all the triumph of
that fated evening. The music came to
her sad and mournful, and in her ear
rang the cry, "Don't 60, mamma, please
don't GO" Amid the laughter and the
light and the gayety, she saw only the
wistful eyes with their sad, unchildlike
look.
And now amid the cold and gloom OF
the dark morning she felt, with strange
thrill, the baby arms around her neck
With shiver she drew her wraps close
around her. Still she felt their clasp,
and now with a strange undefnable shud
der, she sank further into the corner of
the carriage.
On, on sped the horses. At last the
door of her own home is reached. Her
husband opens the door and helps her
out. He looks anxiousIy at the pale face
uplifted to his, but attributes the pale:
ness only to fatigue
With a languid step she reached the
steps. How strange and silent every
thing seems. The house is so cold and
so dark. The lights are all out-the
servants must all be in bed. Her hus-
band passes into the library to light his
cigar.
Up the steps she drags her tired feet
at every step the pleading eyes of Maudie
meet her gaze, and they are filled with
silent tears. The baby-arms cling to
her neck, the hands caress her face.
Past her own door, through the long,
dark halls she sweeps, her velvet robes
trailing with strange, deadened sound
along the floor. How still the house is
On she passes till she reaches the nur-
sery door. Here she stops and holds her
breath-not a sound. She opens the
door-the maid is lying on rug in front
of the fire, fast asleep. The fire is al
most out, and the room looks cold and
dreary. Something, she cannot tell
what, seems pressing around her heart.
Her hands are growing cold. She drops
off her shawls and wraps and looks
around-where is Maudie Oh, here
she is fast asleep beneath the rose-col
Ored silken coverlet-her dimpled hands
folded.
STOPPING down to the tiny form, she
kisses the lips. Asleep! with a mad
cry she starts back, thon o;"l-- - L.
l.nc0s beside the bod Tue lips are ICY
cold the hands are like marble. Too
late the mothers heart has caught the
awful truth. She is asleep-yes, asleep
forever Moan after moan comes from
her colorless lips; she does not cry out
she only kneels there in silent agony
and makes no murmur. God has pun
ished her, but through all that madden
ing grief and pain she knows that God is
just. But oh! just to hear that pitiful
cry once more; Just to feel the tiny arms
around her neck. To the very ground
she would humble her beauty and her
pride if, for one moment, she could feel
the tender caresses of Maudie's loving
hands, or be able to lavish on her the
love her child's heart craved and died
for. But, no! Maudie's face cleaned
like an angels through the gloom, and
from it now has fed the look of piteOus
pleading. The lips no longer culver
with their baby yearnings and disap
pointment.
Lower falls the mothers head until at
last it drops upon Maudie's golden hair.
One fair arm is thrown around the child's
head, and the mothers dark hair mingles
with her darling's sunny tresses. In her
tortured, grieving heart there is no lack
of love now.
The light of the Christmas dawn
steals into the room and silently falls
upon the two beautiful faces. The bells
which Maudie will never hear ring out
mournfully upon the chill, cold air and
sound the death knell unto the mothers
ears.
Softly the door opens, and the hus-
band and father stands before them,
awed by that scene of death and beauty.
In his heart the grief and the pain
have entered, but in the mothers atti-
tude he recognizes the beauty and the
tenderness OF her woman's heart. At
last he has found his wife's soul, and
even though it be bought through his
child's death, he knows that God has
deemed the sacrifice worthy.
Ti.o two beautiful heads are close to-
gether. The mothers dusky hair is
crowned with its star of light-but he
sees it not; he sees only the crown of
motherhood and beauty which God has
placed upon it.
"Arline!" he clasps her slender form
in his tender arms and kneels beside her.
In that cry his heart goes forth to that
God who has taken Maudie's tender soul,
but left in its stead mothers noble
heart.