The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1877-05-24

l.
Charley, fine, handsome boy of seven;
then my twins, Flora and Clara of five,
next frankie of three, and an infant. 3
My girls used often to go for their
papa when I feared he would visit the
saloon. The children all loved him, for
when not under the influence of liquor he
was kind father, and they were anxious
to keep him at home as much as his work
would allow.
One evening Flora and Clara went
forth on their usual errand. They were
beautiful children, with clear blue eyes
in which you could read their souls, long,
golden curls, dainty features, and fair
transparent compilations. called them
my sftwin emblems of purity" and it was
fit simile.
All, how plainly can I see them now,
as they kissed their hands to me, and
told me not TO fear, for they would see
that papa came home safe. Why was it
I wished to call them back-that 1 felt as
though heavy load were pressing upon
nv heart-asI though what. had been
bright and beautiful now looked dark
and chill? Do coming events cast their
shadows befcre7
When next I saw my darlings they
were lying still and cold upon the green
river bank. Dead? Yes, dead, drowned :!
The jewels of my heart, that l had priced
so highly, the two pure white buds that l
had watched and nursed with such care,
and held far dearer than my life, my
precious little girls, were dead, drowned
in that cruel, cold river.
Their father had left his work quite
early to 60 to the saloon, and by the time
they arrived he was intoxicated. They
coaxed him to come home, but were
ashamed to go through town with him, so
they went around, where the river was
crossed by foot-bridge. When on the
narrow bridge he suddenly reeled, and,
re the children knew the danger, all
three were in the water. He got out in
safety, bus my little girls were drowned.
Oh, how / grieved for my lost ones !!
And it was then, in my hour of afliction,
that I felt the kindness of my neighbors,
for all, both old and young, tried to show
the sympathy they felt.
The words of one old lady, in partic-
ular, rise in my memory:
"My poor Mary" said she, when !! was
refusing to be comfOrted, and rebelling
against the will of God, syou think it
hard that your beautiful children should
be taken. Do you not know if you were
in q garden of flowers you would pick
only the rarest and loveliest? And sure
ly the Angel of Death will do the same.
Beside, Mary, have you not often prayed
that they might never know the SORROWS
you have endured for eight years? And
how could they be spared that anguish
more surely than by lying as they are
now? 1t is all for the best, poor, stricken
motherp ,re
But I4could not feel it was better my
darlings should be lying there in one
coffin, with their waxen hands folded on
their bosoms, holding some pure white
blossoms, and their happy hearts stilled
forever. And when, the cold clods fell
upon the coffin with that hard, dull thud,
/ shrieked aloud in my agony, and was
carried fainting from the graveyard. .
It was many days before awoke to
consciousness, for I was very i'll with
brain-feyer; but while lay there, cared
for kindly by my husband and the neigh
ibors, my two little boys were neglected,
and ere was able to sit up they were
laid beside their sisters; so Charley was
all / had left.
But did not feel the loss of the babies
as I did the twins, partly because I was
too weak to realize the blow, and because
I was watching the change in my hus-
band. He felt that the loss of the four
children rested upon himself, for were it
not that he was intoxicated that evening,
they would not have died.
Il. He therefore made another VOW not to
drink, Joined the temperance order, quit
ted his old HABITS, and was in all respects
like the Tom of olden times. And l was
so full of thanAulness that there was no
room for grief.
This happened twelve years ago, and
the second VOW remains unbrOken. We
were very poor then, depending upon my
needle, and what little work Tom did for
our bread. Now we have pleasant
home, as nearly as possible like the cot
tage ofour young married life. Tom has
q lucrative business, and in all respects
is doing well. But, what is betters still,
our boy gives promise of becoming q
good and useful man. and what mother
could ask more? -
We mourn for our lost children, but
have learned from experience that it was
all for the best; they are spared the
troubles of q life on earth, and they have
saved their father. I am contented and
happy, for though the day dawned in
4on e 10 nr,d;nne s,, ennilan