The Red Cloud chief., 1877-12-13

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quiringly about her. She tries to speak
but is evidently too weak. Ny wife
raises her, and gives her q spoonful OF
nourishment, while she says, soothing
~.
friends; and wien you are better, you
shall tell us all about yourself. Lie still
now and try to sleep"
The gray head drops backs YEARLY on
the pillow. and oon we have the salts
faction Of hearing, by the regular res.
piration, that our patient is soundly
asleep.
You can come to bed now, Jessie,
say. 1 will ring for Mary. and she can
sit up for the remainder of the night"
But Ivy wife, who is a tender hearted
soul, and q born nurse, will not desert
her post; 80 l leave her watching. and
retire to nv solitary chamoer. When
we meet in the morning l find that the
little woman has spoken, and seems
stronger.
"COme with me now" says my wife,
"and let us try to find out who she is"
We find her prOpped up in a reclining
posture, and Mary beside her. feeding
her.
"How are you now" inquiries Jessie,
bending over her.
Better. much better, thank you. good
lady" she says, in a voice which trem-
bles from age as well as weakness; land
very grateful to you Tor your goodness"
l hear at once by the accent that she
is English.
Are you strong enough to tell me
how you got lost on the moor, where you
came from, and where you were going?'
asks my wife.
"Ah! 1 was going to my lad, my poor
lad, and now Ishall never, never see him
more" says the poor soul, with a sigh of
WEAKNESS.
"Where is your lad, and how far have
you Gomez"
my lad is a soldier at Fort George;
and l have come all the way from Liv-
erpool to see him, and give him his old
mothers blessing before he goes to the
Indies" And then, brOkenly, with long
pauses of WEAKNESS and weakness, the
little old woman tells US her pitiful
story.
Her lad, she tells us, is her only re-
naming child. She had six, and this.
the youngest, is the only one who did
not die of want during the Lancashire
cotton famine. He grew up a fine, like
ly boy. the comfort and pride of his
mothers heart, and the stay of her de-
Ginning years. But a strike" threw him
out of work, and, unable to endure the
%privatiOn and misery. he Sisted" His
regiment was quartered at Fort George.
and he wrote regularly to his mother,
his letters getting more hopeful every
day, until he suddenly wrote to say that
his regiment was ordered to India, and
he begged her to send him her blessing,
as he had not enough money to carry
him to Liverpool. The aged mother felt
that she must look on her child's face
more before she died. She begged
from a few ladies, whose kindness had
kept her from the wOrkhouse, sufficient
money to carry her to Glasgow, and
from thence she had made her way, now
on foot, now logging a lift in a passing
cart, to within a few miles of Fort
George, when she was caught in the
snow storm. and, wandering from the
road, would have persisted in the storm,
but for the Laddie.
My wife is in tears, and Mary is sob
bling audibly a. the little woman con-
cludes her touching story, and 1 walk to
the window and look out for a moment
before I am able to ask her what her
sons name is. AS 1 tell her that we
are but a few miles from Fort George,
and that l will send over for him, a
smile of content illumines the withered
face.
His name is John Salter," she says.
He is a tall, handsome lad; they will
know him by that"
l hasten down stairs and write a note
to Col. Freeman, whom l know init.
mately. informing him of the circum-
stances, and begging him to allow John
Salter to come over at once; and l de-
spatch my groom in the dog-cart, that
he may bring him back without loss of
time. As l return to the house after
seeing him start, I meet DR.. Bruce.
"POor old soul" he says, "her troubles
are nearly over; She is sinking fast. l
doubt whether she will live till her son
comes"
"How she could have accomplished
such a journey at her age I cannot un.
derstand," I say.
Nothing is impossible to a mother"
replies DR.. Bruce, "but it has killed her"
I 60 in, but l find 1 cannot settle to
my usual occupations. My thoughts are
with the aged heroine who is dying up
aud presently l yield to the fasci-
nation which draws nae back to her pres.
As DR.. Bruce says, she is sinking
fast She clasps my wife's hand in hers.
but her eyes are wide open AMI have an
eager, expectant look in them.
AT what time may weexpect them? p
whispers my wife to me.
mot before four, I reply, in the same
tone.
HE will be too late, I fear" she says;