Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1879-11-20
Don't be sorry for me, dear papa!
Indeed | am quite happy"

Don't be sorry for me, dear papa!
Indeed 1 am quite happy
His father coming and bending
down to him-which he did quickly,
and without first pausing by the bed
side-Paul held him around the neck,
and repeated those words to him sew
eral times, and very earnestly; and
Paul never saw his room again at any
time, whether it were day or night,
but he called out, Don't be sorry for
me Indeed l am quite happy r.
This Was the beginning Of his always
saying in the morning that he was I"
great deal better, and that they were
to tell his father so.
How many times the golden water
danced upon the wall how many
nights the dark river rolled towards
the sea in spite Of him: Paul never
counted, never sought to know. If
their kindness or his sense Of it,could
have increased, they were more kind
and he more grateful every day; but
whether they were many days or few,
appeared of little moment now, to the
gentle boy.
One night he had been thinking Of
his mother, and her picture in the
drawing-room down stairs, and tho
she must have loved sweet Florence
better than his father did, to have
held her in her arms when she felt
that she was dying-for even he, her
brother, who had such dear love for
her, could lave no greater wish than
that. The train of thought suggest.
ed to him to inquire if he had
ever seen his mother; for he could
not remember whether they had told
him, yes or NO, the river running very
fast and confusing his mind.
"Floy, did l ever see mammal"
mo, darling, why?'
"Did ever see any kind face, like
mam ma S, looking at me when | was
a baby, Floy?"
lie asked, incredulously, as if he
had some vision Of face before him
ooh yes, dear!"
"Whose, Floy?"
"Your old nurses. Often?"
And where is my old nurse?' said
Paul. as she dead too? Floy, are
we all dead, except you?"
There was hurry in the room, for
an instant-longer, perhaps; but it
seemed no more-then all was still
again; and Florence, with her face
quite colorless, but smiling held her
head upon his arm. Her arm trem-
bled very much.
"Show me that old nurse, Floy, if
you please
"She is not here, darling, She shall
come to- morrow.
THANK you, Floy /"
Paul closed his eyes with those
words, and fel! asleep. When he
awoke, the sun was high, and the
broad day was clear and warm. nc
lay a little, looking at the windows,
which were open, and the curtains
rustling in the air, and waving to and
lro: then he said. "Floy, is it to-
morrow. Is she come ?"
Some one seemed to go in quest of
her. Perhaps it was Susan. Paul
thought he heard her telling him
when he had closed his eyes again,
that she would soon be back but he
did not open them to see. She kept
her word-perhaps she had never
been away-but the next thing that
happened was noise of footsteps on
the stairs, and then Paul woke-woke
mind and body-and sat upright in
his bed. He saw them now about
him. There was no grey mist before
them, as there had been sometimes in
the night. He knew them every one,
and called them by their names.
"And who is this? Is this my old
nurse ?" said the child, regarding
with a radiant smile, figure coming
in.
Yes, yes. No other stranger would've
shed those tears at sight Of him, and
called him her dear boy, her pretty
ho, bor own noor .bliphted child. -