Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-05-12
A CHI1D'S DEATH-BED.

aud friends.
A CHIkD'S DEATH-BED.
A Pathetic story of tho Dying Visions
OF Little Dear Mute.
St. Louis Journal.
The following story was told to a Jour
nal reporter yesterday by lady whose
veracity is unaoubted: Some four weeks
ago Carrie Wilson, an interesting little
girl, aged about ten years, after a pro-
tracted illness, died at the residence of
her parents, No. 1921 North Fourth
street. From the day she entered this
care-laden world her troubles began, for
she was born a deaf mute. Her parents
were poor people, able only by the strict
est economy to shift through from one
year to another, and the little one, whose
organs Of both hearing and speech had
been stricken by the Divine hand, was
looked upon as something human, of
course, but nothing mere than little bit
of bodily ills, who would always in her
helplcssness have to be provided for.
A few years ago her father died. and her
mother found it doubly hard to support
large family of small children. About
this time Mrs. Ann Bailey, great heart
ed Christian woman, residing at No.
270S Chouteau avenue, became acquaint-
ed with Mrs. Wilson's circumstances, and
having tender spot in her heart for the
little unfortunate, Tor she also had a deaf
daughter, concluded to adopt little Carrie.
Mrs. Wilson was not averse, and after
few weeks sojourn in Mrs. Bailey's fam
|
to be educated under the supervision of
Mr.. and Mrs. Tuttle. She spent two
years there, acquiring knowledge with a
degree of rapidity astonishing for one of
her tender years, but her health always
poor, failed entirely, and she was brought
back to St. Louis 10 die.
Mrs. Wilson had in the meanwhile,
married again, and being IN better cir
cumstances than when Mrs. Bailey
adopted Carrie requested that she should
be once more placed under her care. The
days went by, and the little innocent
creature grew weaker and weaker, for
consumption never relaxes its grasp from
King or clod, Princess or peasant. One
forenoon Mrs. Bailey and her daughter
Matte received message stating that
Carrie was dying, and that she asked for
them continually, and half an hour later
they were at the bedside where the large,
speaking eyes were taking on a happier
expression.
Through her feeble signs she commun-
icated the wish to be left alone with her
! benefactor, and when her relatives had
left the chamber she related the follow
ing story through her own peculiar
laguage:
At eight o'clock that morning she was
all alone in the little room, her mother
having readjusted the pillows and gone
into another part Of the building to at
tend to her household duties, and on look
ing up she saw her dead father bending
over her. She was not frightened for he
seemed so kind and good, and his face
was Ike the portrait she had SO oftea
looked at for hours at a time in Mrs.
Baileys drawlng-room-the portrait OF
Christ at the well in Samaria.
"He seemed pleased and happy" her
little fingers said, and bending his
head down by the side Of my ear he
whispered, and Iheard just as plain as
any person could hear, Carrie, my poor
little afflicted lamb, you will soon
have no more trouble, for will take you
to Jesus in exactly four hours Even as
he said that, Mrs. Bailey, our clock in the
other room that can see when the door
is open, and it was open then for NAM
ma had left it that way if wanted any
thing I could tap on the head board and
she would hear it, indicated just eight.
Only four hours more, Carrie he said,
and heard it so plain, too, and then, tax
ing my face between his hands, that were
SO light and soft, and not bit like they
used to be when he was on earth before,
he kissed me such long kiss, and lett
me-
The little hands lay quite still for
minute or more, apparently tired out,
said Mrs. Bailey, and then they signaled:
II began to feel easier then This
pain in here (pointing to her heart left
me all at once, and I thought I could get
up and play like used to before / got
sick Oh, know papa will come, for he
was so earnest, and he never told me but
one story, and that was about Santa
Claus, and it wasn't very big story.
Don't you think he will, Mrs. Bailey?
| Oh
The little hands ceased their rapid
manipulations, said Mrs. Bailey, with a
voice choking with emotion, the eyes lett
mine and turned upward quickly, with a
half smile, the feeble hands were raised
half above her head, she gave faint
| futter like that of wounded bird, and
then nestled down quite still.
The tired, tortured spirit, that had
never known one moment Of unalloyed
happiness on this earth, had gone out and
on its way to the better land. left the
bedside, walked to the door, opened it, and
lifted my eyes;to the clock. The.minute-
hand was just passing over the hour-hand
that told twelve O'Clock.
Two fashionable tints for summer cos
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