Daily globe., 1879-01-05


as it did at first. She continued the ap.
plication, every moment feeling; more
excited and more joyfuliy hopeful. Pres
emily the action Of swallowing became
more decided; she felt a feeble futter at
the heart, and before long the eyes grad
ually opened, and closed again; but the
breathing became quietly regular, and
the mother was satisfied that now no one
would dispute the fact; so she called her
household around her, and proved to
them the joyful fact that her child was
restored to her, and that no funeral pro
cession would leave the house that day.
Before long the child fully recovered.
The fruit knife with it's two blades is to
this day the most precious heirloom in
the family possession.
"The recovered one lived to form
deep attachment to her cousin (the res
cued boy Of the first story), possibly from
the fact of the strange similarity in their
carly history: but his affections were al
ready engaged by the young lady whose
story we are now going to relate, the facts
| OF which resemble somewhat those al
ready told. This Joung person was no
longer child when death seemed to
| claim her, but had reached the age of
eighteen Or nineteen. She had been suf-
erlng from an infectious and dangerous
fever, and when the crisis arrived, instead
OF rallying, she, to all appearance, died.
1t was the custom Of the district in which
she lived, to dress ma-riageable girls as
brides after death, and to bury them in
their bridal costume. The young lady in
question was therefore laid out as bride,
IN white dress, orange-fower wreath
ano veil. The day before the funeral,
| the most intimate friend of the deceased.
who had been on visit al distance.
came home, and insisted with floods Of
tears that she should be allowed to see
hef: The mother most decidedly refused,
explaining that her daughter had been the
victim OF an infectious fever, and that she
could not allow the daughter of a friend
to run the risk of catching it. The young
lady persisted, and would not leave the
house; but the mother, much as it panied
her, was firm in her refusal. However,
IN the evening the young friend being on
the watch, saw the paid watcher leave the
| room to go down to supper, leaving the
door unlocked. Sne Immediately entered,
ana having reverently kissed her friends
pale face. knelt down by the side of the
bed to pray There were candles at each
| side OF the bed at its head, and two
placed on table at its foot
The poor girl was deep in her PRAYERS.
when suddenly, without any movement or
warning, the dead girl sat up and said in
sharp tone Of voice: Que tiaistu zc?'
| (What are you doing there?} Startled and
horriied TO the last degree, her friend
sprang to her knees, and in trying to
rash out OF the room upset the table on
which the candles were placed and be-
came Wedged between it and the bed, her
head downmost! inextricablV entangled,
she shrieked loudly for Eelp The sup
posed dead girl had keen sense of the
ridiculous, and being weakened from Ill
ness, she went off into hysterical fit of
laughter; and the more her poor friend
kicked and screamed, the more she kept
up the duet by peals of laughter. The
mother and household hearing the noise,
rushed up as quickly as possible. The
mother was the first to enter the room.
and being quick-witted woman, at once
| comPrehended the situation; she flew to
her daughter and angrily ordering her to
be quiet and not laugh at her friends
misfortune, she pressed her to her
bosom, and hastily tearing off wreath
and veil, dropped them on the floor and
kicked them under the bed: then calling
assistance, she carried the girl into an
other room and put her to bed. The
doctor, who had been at once seut for,
ordered her to be taken home without
delay, and they started as soon as was
possible. She perfectly recovered; but
strangely enough, could never call to
mind the startling events of her return to
! life. She afterward married the gentle
man who was the hero of the first story.
Her poor friend, when extricated from
her unpleasant position, was quite de-
llrious; she nearly died, and she never
entirely recovered from the shock her
friends sudden return to life had given
her."
On writing TO the lady who related
these anecdotes for permission to publish
she says: "You are at liberty to make
what use you like of our family story, on
condition you dc not mention names of
the family or places; but you may add,
that all three who were so nearly buried
alive lived to be very old-my father to
eighty four, my mother and aunt to
seventy six retaining their health, rare
intelligence and, to wonderful extent,
their personal beauty to the last.''-
Ch0naber s Journal.