New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1880-10-27

AY, OCTOBER ~, 1850.
fings; there was silver gimp that ran
all around the inside edges, which
were festooned with white satin; there
was an inscription on the name-plate
that l stopped to read:
Blossom.
Aged 9.
ITO God we give, with tears:
ut goes away tomorrow" said the
undertaken. s'Now here's something
you might like to see.''
1t was little handful of golden hair
wrapped in piece of old newspaper,
the soft, lovely hair of a little child. As
| held it up a fine dust sifted back into
the paper.
Its grave dust. That hair has lain
in the grave for eighteen years. It was
in the coffin of little child we took up
last fall in the old burying ground, and
saved it, all there was left. and we
didn't know whose grave it was. Here
are the baby's robes, but mothers
mostly put on something they have.
Still, we sell one of these occasion
ally"
They were little merino robes, with
baby ruches in the neck and sleeves
and little bows and knots of white
satin ribbon, with rosebud at the
throat, but I couldn't bear to look at
them and think they were waiting for
some poor little. baby so die, SO l just
glanced at the rows and rows of little
caskets, some of them not over foot
long, of white glossy wood, satin-lined
and so sweet and restful to look at, but
oh, so sad! and then I thanked the
man and came away. AS I passed
flower store | saw white dove in the
window; it had just been made of flow
ers - all pure white - star-like and
sweet-scented; in the birds mouth was
little painted card-.a gaudy thing it
looked to be, but written in one corner
were the simple words "auf wieder-
sehen," and they made the tears start;
asked the florist who it was for, and
he said little German baby, and he
showed me pillow of white blossoms,
with a scarlet border and the name
Bertha" traced in the center with
purple imm0rtelles. Then there was q
cradle made of fcver-few and filled
with tuberoses and carnations.
"Sometimes we have a rosebud funer-
al" said the florist, "and we have to
visit all the nurseries and rob them of
their buds. Then we have what we
call tinted funerals, where all the flow
ers are pale pink, pale blue and just
touched with color; mixed pillows are
now much called for-white, pink and
lilac, interspersed with smilax and
laurel; it's queer, but whenever flower
grows on baby's grave it's some little
tender thing, that never was seen out
of q hot-house, but will grow and
thrive without watching in that harsh
soil; there's little blue thing-we call
it baby's breath-there's lots of it up at
Elmwood; just grows OF its own accord
like"
I thought of this all the way home,
and remembered little rhyme l had
often read in mothers scrap-book:
butterfly basked on baby's grave
Where lilly had CHANGED to grow;
| "Why art thou here of the gaudy dye
| When she of the bright and sparkling eye
Must sleep in the churchyard low"
| Then it lightly spoke as it shook it's wings
And scared to its airy track:
| ~ IL was worm till won my wings;
She whom thou mournest like ser.,ph sings,
| Would st thou call the loved one back?"
The next morning at half past four
mother read the death of the baby
whose funeral we had seen; but just
think how we all felt when we saw
"Mabel, only child o. Arthur and Kate
Russell, aged one year."
! 1--WE will meet thee
We will greet thee,
In the sweet by-and-by."
forgot to say father was in the City
Clerks Office, and knowing that l am
always interested in the facts and
figures of everything, he brought me
home little slip Of paper With the
number of babies who have died in our
beautiful Detroit in three months and
are buried at Elmwood, Woodmere,
Mt. Elliott and the German Lutheran
Cemeteries. There were seventy babies
died in the month of May, 113 in June
and 146 in July-a bad record for July
of 1880, since it exceeds our infant
mortality of all preceding years.
Mother says the great heat was the
cause, and that as many died in one
week in New York City. Poor little
things! l always take my religion
secondhand, and quote some sweet
verse instead of what God has said,
but know the poet drew his inspirar
ton from the Bible when he says:
They shall all bloom in robes of light,
Transplanted by my care,
And saints upon their garments white
These sacred blossoms year.
Mother says am an enthusiast; she
sings that very hymn to Mabel, but
when she hears of a baby's death she
only quotes what King David said: 1t
is well with the child.-DetroI Free
Press.