Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1877-05-31

OIdNlu55 lncul CloSc lOSclAcA NSoAu. nON
happily the stream is bearing them on its
bosom now, as the tide gently carries
them on to the ocean!
Many visitors came to the great house
visitors with elegant dresses and visi.
iors with naughty manners and grand adj.
dress. They came and went and came
again, and the lady had always for them
pleasant welcome. But there came one
day guest who had never called before
"a sharp imperious visitor for whom
there was no welcome, yet who had been
expected with fcverish dread each day
He had visited many homes in the city,
and had been received as no other guest
had been before; he had left behind
things that no other guest had donc,-
memories more bitter-sweet than can be
often found. For looking far down the
street where he has been, We see flutter-
ing from the door-knobs narrow webs of
something feecy, white and black mingled
together. What can it mean? That guest
has entered the great house now. He
passed up the elegant marble steps, slowly
and solemnly, each foot striking the
stone with a hollow, reverberating sound,
and rising again with harsh, grating
noise, as Of screws working their way in
to new cof6n-lids. Reaching the door he
drew the long scarlet mantle, that hung
loosely about his form and trailed behind
him for considerable distance upon the
walk, closer about him. Then he stretched
out a long, feshless arm and grasped the
bell knob. As he stood there, eager, ex-
pectant. his eyes cleaning bright with
; fever in their dry bony sockets, he ner-
vously opened and closed his dreadful
jaws, sending through all his teeth a rat
thing sound as of wind blowing through
bits of broken crockery. Suddenly he
caught the sound of light, dancing feet in
the hallway, and a sweet little voice in
childish song. With a low, sepulchral
chuckle Of satisfaction the horrible visitor
turned the knob and passed in. He met
her, but who can tell how? Who can tell
how he smoothed the downy cheek to a
hectic flush, nor guess with what insinu-
ating tenderness he touched the winsomc
head with fever pains. ''These delicate
things are mine," he said. And he bore
the tender, death-smittcn flower in his I'M
yielding arms up the vide staircase, to
her room,-the pleasant sunny room
whence, thereafter, only sorrow could
come out.
The world will 60 on just the same to-
morrow. Other flowers will bud and
bloom, earth be fragrant with their sweet
ness. Light laughs will be heard and
songs will be sung, but our little white
blossom yonder is withholding. And
the reviving waters of eternity-the
great resistless tidc-is slowly tapping the
shore.
Night came. Tired and heated from
the excitement of a "charity" ball, yet
flushed with her recent triumphs, and
beautiful in her satin and elegant laces
the mother returned. Was it any wonder
that she sent up cry of fear-that the
blood about her heart grew cold-when
she met upon the threshold that dreadful
guest! And then. in that quiet hour, with
the moon looking calmly down upon
earth, when the noise of passers-by had
almost ceased upon the street, and sleep
was visiting the weary eyelids of the
troubled world, there was sound of hur-
rying feet and affrighted voices along the
halls and through the high-ceilinged
rooms of the brown.stOnc front on the
avenue. The mother, whose deathlike
pallor We'd with the white rouge on her
cheeks, glittering with jewels, and with
roses blushing in her hair, had forgotten
them all-the whole gay word-as she
wrung her hands in her unavailing grief.
And great, hot, shining tears-ruthless
things--laug hed together at their triumph
over it all, as they made deep roads down
through the delicate color that had so en-
HANGED her beauty during the evening.
The father was there, silent, speeches.
kneeling by the crib; watching now the
nurse, now the doctor, with eager, plead
ing glances, helpless, despairing. Now
holding one Of these little hot hands in
his, now passing his other with vehement
gesture across his own forehead, where
the perspirati0n stood in beads, and now
smoothing tiny curls Of hair away from
her face and listening with painful eager
ness to each sound that came from her
fcverish lips. Only once she returned
his glances. Then, fixing her sweet eyes
upon his face for an instant, she whis-
pered:
sim ve'wy tied, papa, and floated away
in that pleasant dream called unconscious
ness.
All! it was too true. Those little feet
made LIES journey early, indeed, but
they had grown weary. The little. slender
arms could not even clasp he: fathers
neck. The busy, happy child-heart beat
slower, calmcr. 1t was listening to some
thing grander than earth ever heard, and
so grew still. The beautiful bluc-veined
lids dropped wearily over the hazel eyes.
The little soul. spellbound by the splendor
andthe glory Of something that it saw
beyond, held its breath in sheer delight
and-caugllt it again, IN what beauty who
can tell9 The father and the mother arc
alone. There was only the echo Of a deep,
sepulchral chuckle dying away in the
room-the sound of the scarlet robe
sweeping down the wide staircase out
side.
"Oh! yc hold within your hands
Grains of the golden sands:
How few, yet how they creep
Through your fingers to the dcep!'
By-and-by, in the glad morning light
Of another day, Time lifts the curtain
upon yet another picture. It is the
nursery chamber, and it is very still and
cold. The blinds are closed in the room
The fire in the CRATE that had 50 often de.
lighted the baby eyes has gone out
Gracey's clock on the mantal has run
down. There is not a sunbeam in the
room. 1t is so clean an orderly now
not little garment to be seen; not q
doll, with her life blood ofsawdust slowly
ebbing away, on the carpet; not toy
anywhere. There are no more watchers
around the cradle bed, but within it.
beneath cloud of white lace and knots
of ribbons and flowers, in very halo Of
delicious odors- is form more exquisite
ly fair than the grandcst dream of the
sculptor-aA that remains of Gracey.
One hand clasps white rose just open
ing, the other dimpled fist rests easily
against her cheek.
Her laughing eyes are closed gently, az
if in sleep, and her brown lashes seem
almost trembling to part again, reluctant
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