St. Landry democrat., 1878-07-06
TEAR AND TEAR.

When they found her dead in her old
chair the men noticed nothing but the
poverty surrounding her. The woman
saw tear in her eye before they noticed
anything else. Some had called her bag,
and spoken of her home as howell. Some
had heard her curse and seen her Keeling
along, and they looked closer to see if it
really was tear. 1t was tear-a great,
round tear, and it rested on her wrinkled
cheek as if human hand Lad placed it
there.
Isn't it strange that she shed tear,
even in death p they whispered.
So it was, and yet it was not. When
death comes slowly the crust melts from
| the wickedest heart, and human nature
comes back with all the love and charity
and sorrow and pity which heart ever
had. Death came slowly to her. As
she sat in the chair and watched the sun
go down and the shadows come, she knew
that she would not live again to hear
the notes OF the morning birds. Men
and women passed her door, but she did
not cry out. Over the heads of the glee-
full children playing at the curb-stone she
saw darker shadow than the rest. It
was the shadow of death. It foated over
the heads of the children as fog drifts
along the rivers surtaee, and as it stop
ped at her open door, she knew that the
shadow was chilling her sunshine of life.
There was not q living thing in or
around the house for her to loye-for
her to part with. No birds built their
nests under the lonely eayes-no cat or
dog basked in the sunshine creeping in
through the dusty windows--even the
rats and mice seemed to avoid the place.
The husband had been dead SO long that
she scarce ever gave his memory
thought. Her boy! All that was it.
AS the shadow entered the door aud cast
its chill over her, she whispered:
"John was wicksd. He ran away--he
stole from me, he beat mel
He had gone to the war. She had not
heard from him even once. Yet, when
the hearts crust melted the love of
mother crept in, and she whispered:
Poverty vexed me. Despair made
me drink. Desperation made me curse
louder than my boy could. He was
good boy once--I made him bad | I, his |
own mother, drove him into the |
streets-bea him abused him.
and when [ could have won
him back by kind, motherly |
word would not speak it! If he were
here tonight I would sing those old |
child-songs to him, would tell him
those old stories, | would look upon him
as my own precious child! Here, in the
shadow Of death, I ask hisiforgiveneas;
ask God to forgive me Pro ~f aas
Later, when the dusk was deeper and
the black sha1ow had crept yet nearer,
boy searched about her door for lost
ball and heard her murmur: 5
John, won't you forgive your mo Their
| am dying, John, but all the old love
has come back tome! ana your mother,
want to hold you in my arms and kiss
you as | used to. / want to hear YOUR
voice and know that you forgive me p
Her arms were outstretched, her
fingers telt OF the darkness nothing more.
81 want you to call me mother
again !" she entreated. 81 want to
'mooth back your hair as used to, I
want to look into your eyes and see if
7ou still hate mep .--..
And those that found her knew not
he feelings that had brought the tear,
lor that it was the last Of many which
lad burned her cheeks as the gloom
rev deeper and the chilling
'reath OF the shadow made heart beat
lower.
1t had been fierce fight. Shoulder to
boulder the line swept ont from the
over of the woods, dashed across the
ong field, and found death beyond it
Ieath in such terrible forms that the line
ell back in wild disorder. Again and !
gain the paie-faeed but COURAGEOUS men {
lashed at the position, almost gained it, ,
md melted away under the fire OF shot