The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1878-05-09
A Deaf Mute,s Diving Vision.

Some four weeks ago Carrie Wilson,
an interesting little girl, aged about ten
years. after q pTotracted illness, died at
the residence OF her parents, No. 1921
North Fourth street. From the day she
entered this care-lsden world her troubles
began, for she was born d deaf mute.
Her parents were very poor people, able
ODlv by the strictest economy to shit
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
more than a little bit of bodily ills, who
would always in her helplessuess have To
be provided for. a few years ago her
father died, and her mother found it
doublY hard TO support a large family ci
small children About this time Mr.
Ann Bailey, a great hearted Christian
woman, residing at No. 270S Chou
teau avenue, became acquainted with
Mrs Wilson's circumstances, and having
a tender spot in her heart for the little
unfortunate, for she also had q deaf
daughter, concluded 10 adopt little Carrie
Mrs Wilson was not aver7e, and after
few weeks sojOurn in Mrs. Bailey's
family, Carrie was sent to Fulton, Mo-,
to be educated under the supervision OF
Mr.. aud Mrs. Tuttle. She spent two
years there, acquiring knowledge with
degree of rapidity astonishing tor one of
der tender years, but her health, always
hOoT, failed entirely, and she was brought
back to St. Louis TO die.
Mrs. Wilson had, n the meanwhile,
married again, and being in better cir
cunstances than when Mrs. Bailey
sdopted 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 q 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 we're taking on Il 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
! following story through her own peculiar
I language:
Al eight O'Clock this morning she was
all alone in the little room, her mother
having adjusted the pillow and gone into
| her household duties, and on looking up
| she saw her dead father bending over her
| She was not frightened, for he seemed so
/ kind and good, and his face was just like
| The pOrtait she had often looked at for
/ hours at a time in Mrs. Bailey's drawing
room, the portrait of Christ at the well in
! Samaria. " He seemed pleased aud hap
J py," her little fingers said, '' and bending
| his head down by the side Of my ear he
| whispered and heard just as plain as any
/ person could hear. Carrie, my poor little at
| ficted 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 mamma
had left it that way 80 If l wanted any
thing ] could tap on the headbOaTd and
she would hear 1t, indicated just eight.
! Only four hours more Carrie he said,
and l heard it 50 plain, too, and then
taking my face between his hands that
were so light and soft, and not a bit like
they used to be when he was on earth
before. he kissed me such long kiss and
left me-"
al began to feel easier, then; this
pain in here (pointing TO her heart), left
me all at once, and / thought l could
get up and play like l used 10 do before
I got sick. Oh, / know papa will come,
tor he was 80 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 be will, Mrs.
Bailey? OBJ
The little hands ceased their rapid
manipuIations, 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 a 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 cut
and on its way to the better land.
LETT the bedside, walked 10 the door,
opened it and lifted my eyes to the
clock. The minute hand was just pass
ing over the hour hand that told twelve
o'cloek.-ESt. Louis Journal