Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-11-26

atlSnt. anu tIS coldnSeS HniCu nssS c'ei PAS1
emit from the hour of my arrival, between my
stepfsther and myself, rendered it best that
should leave my native village, which L dia
after visit of but a week. L felt tnat
1 had been injured, that there was no
home for me any longer; the SHADE" o.
a melancholy fell over me, L Droodeo
upon nv supposed wrongs until was sestiea
in eloom. could not return to nay posi- IN
that state Of mind. passed the perloa Oh
nv furlough and was deserter before l az
fairly aware of the crime. In vigorous i sl
in this western town L founo sneiset i.otn
myself and gradually content grew upon me,
AZ new associations and new friends bound
me fast. With age and calm thought came
reason. and I began to see what cruelty
had been guilty of toward the best OF pa
ronts Fonr wears had passed, but in only
formal words had I responded to the loving,
upchiding epistles of my mother. now saw
nv ingratitude in its true light. realized
the anguish I must have caused her gentle
heart, aud the more l considered 1t the
deeper became the pain of self--eproach.
Oae night, as l lay in my bed. the conviction
of nv error, my crime. came upon me with
redouhled force. By sudden impulse which
seemed to move me from without myself, L
left nv bed, hastily dressed, and descending
to the clerks office Of the hotel, seized
pen. and there, in the middle of the night, L
poured out, in burning words, page after
page of confession to my mother. told her
all nv love; acknowledged in the depths
of humility the sad thoughts | had enter
tanned of her second marriage. ] opened my
heart to her. and showed her rekindled love
as deem and warm and gentle as ever son
could bear to his mother. l sealed the letter
as the clock struck the hour of midnight, and
handed it to the clerk to be forwarded by the
early mail, To this circumstance l call your
attention. 1t was the night of the last day
OF the month, and as the clock struck, the
clerk took up the pen, opened and dated
new page in his register, and laugh
ingly entered my name as the trst
guest of the new day and new month,
and to give point to his humor noted the
hour and the minute. returned to my bad
feeling like Christian when the pack fell
from his shoulders. 1 went to my couch
light hearted, joyously. | do not know how
long slept. / only know that | suddenly
awoke with the distinct impression that l
was not alone-that there was with me
presence and one friendly to me. sat up
in the bed, and as clearly as | see you here,
as plainly as your eyes describe the outline
of nv form now, L saw my mother standing.
at the foot of my bed. She was smiling upon
me. Her countenance, pale, halt sad, was
vet possessed of transcendant JOY,
q soul. filing satisfaction, and as she
bowed her head with graceful, loving
inclination toward ne, her countenance spoke
palmer than human tongue could utter, My
son, know all [ know your heart; am
happy in that knowledge beyond measure. ,
| felt not particle of fear net the slightest
emotion did | experience at this supernatural
presence, beyond that of perfect joy at be-
holding that dear face once more. l had no
power to speak-iEded, l believe now that L
made no effort; had no desire to break the
spell with words, for the soul of mother and
son were in that blissful communion where
the human voice would have been
sacrilege. I remember that doubt
for one moment crossed my mind
was I not the victim of an Illusion :?
Had not my continued thought fancifully
materialized this form? Had not my mind,
without the volition of my will, wrought
upon the walls Of fancy's chamber this satis-
fving picture? Ii now, [ reasoned, this
figure could but move, could but come, at my
desire, closer to me, l should know it to be no
Illusion. Almost instantly, and as if
answering to my doubts, my mothers
form, not white and ghost-like,
not clad in snowy robes, but
draped in attire such as graced hsr every.
day life, and standing out upon a semi
luminous background of apparent haas,
moved from ths foot of the bed. Her sweet
face spoke to me again 1 come; see, it is
your mother The figure moved toward the
center of the room ; it passed a table l saw
it carefully gather its robes to avoid contact
with chair it moved to my bedside it
passed to my pillow its arms extended above
me It's hands in bsnedictien hung over me-
it Yves gone. was fully awake. Of that there
can be no doubt. arose and satisfied myself
of it beyond question. L made memoran-
-
to my bed, slept III restful peace | had never
before experienced. OF course I thought
much upon this strange event, but to no one
confded il. The subject was too sacred one
to me for others philosophiziug and explsna-
ton. KNEW very well what would receive
in reply, l should be told it was dream
er's fancy, vision born of my peculiar men,
tai state; the natural result of my regret,
ny resolve, and it's contamination in my let
ter ,'riting
"Two weeks later my letter to my mother
came back to me unopened. 1t was inclosed
in one from my stepfather; cold formal
note 1.-THE man knew of my antipathy for him,
but did not know of my bitter repentancel.
The note was simple enough:
'I return the letter addressed in your hand to my
WIFE, She died on the last day of last month, just
before midnight
1.-THE man had rot opened my letter,
he could not have known when and
under what circumstances l wrote
his statement and his particularization
of the hour of my mothers death
was conformation to me, beyond all possibility
of disproof. that on that night I did in
truth see my mother st my bedside, and
within an hour or two after her death In a
distant State. I have that letter still, the
seal still unbroken. It is a leaf in my his
tory which [ shall never part with. 1t is
sealed book which 1 have opened to you TO-
NIGHT. It is the one event in my life that I
have to tell"
Sacramento. November 20, 1881.