The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1880-11-24
The Old BIae Chest.
detroit Free Press.

One day last week five or six women with
serious faces and hushed voices were gath.
cred in a room in q house on Fort street east.
For two years poor old woman had lived
there, not exactly beggsr nor an object OF
charity, but certainly in want. She had a
husband when she first moved there-a poor
old man whose days could not be long; but
one day he was missing He may have
fallen into the river, or he may have wan
dered out into the country and died. This
left the old woman alone, and there were
DAYS and days in which no one went near
her or addressed her. The other day when
she felt the chill of death approaching she
wanted some one with her. She had lived
alone, but she could not die that way. She
wept as tender hands clasped hers and kind
voices addressed her. Death had already
placed its mark on her face, and the women
could do nothing. While their tears fell
upon her wrinkled hands she passed away as
a child sleeps.
There was but little in the room beyond
an old blue chest-battered and bruised and
splintered, but yet holding together. 1t had
seen strange times, that old blue chest. 1t
had held silks and broadcloths perhaps--it
had surely held rags. 1t had been moved
from house to house and from town to town.
1t had listened to laughter. and had heard
sobs and means. 1t had grown old no faster
than the woman whose hands had so often
lifted its lid. 1t had doubtless kept the COM
pany of good carpets and furniture and
crockery. and laughing, romping children
had climbed over it or hidden in it. 1t had
faded, and its hinges were rusty and weak,
but it had outlived its owner
Two women looked about for garments in
which to enshroud the dead. Nothing was
in sight One of them lifted the lid of the
old blue chest, and called the others to help
drag it out from the dark corner 1t held
treasures-such treasures as men could not
buy nor poverty steal away. There was n
dress of fine material. cut after a fashion of
long years ago. For twenty years the chest
had been its guardian. 1t would have sold
for few dollars, but though the cravings
ofhunger had come often and the cold had
fought its way to her marrow that poor old
woman would not part with that relic of
better days. 1t may have been link to
connect her with wealth and love. Beneath
it was treasure still more priceless. Care
fully wrapped in paper was silver dime
more than fifty years old. A weeks fast
would not have sent her to the bak er's with
that relic. A child, dead in its young years,
had worn that dime around its neck as 8
gift or talisman. There was a child's nit
ten, stained and worn, but mitten KNIT by
proud young mother for her child. 1t
could not speak to tell the dim past, but it
had power. As the women saw it they
covered their faces with their aprons and
wept.
There was a boys cap and girls hat,
both 50 old and faded and time-eaten that
they had to be tenderly handled. The
women looked from them to the poor
old white face on the bed and whispered
"Nene but good mother would have
treasured these relics. She was old and
poor but her heart was pure"
Deeper down, as if to battle the search o
Time itself. was a familiar toy-a child's
dumb watch Hands were broken and gone
face scratched and case battered, but the
women handled it as if touch would shiver
it. There was dolls head, boys fish
line, some toy chairs, q yarn ball, and other
things to show that in the long ago that
dead woman had felt the soft kisses of chill
dren. heard their 'good-nights" and thanked
God that she was blessed. Each relic was
wept over-each was replaced with fresh
tear stains. They asked the old blue chest
no questions. Its relics might have been
voiceless to man, but to woman and
mother each one had tale in words a.
plain as print. They shed more tears as
.hey bent again over the poor old dead, and
they said to each other:
'If she had only told us of this how we
would have loved her and sought to tighten
her SORROWS"
But she had gone. She had come and
gone as mystery, and but for the old blue
chest in the corner few would have cared,
and none would have sorrowed.