Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1882-03-09
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On the Way TO Florida.

The train on which we are riding toward
Flori1 is filled with Consumptiyes seeking
a new lease of life in the tropics. They are
in all the cars, and travelling under all con-
didons. In the second rate cars you see
here and there an invalid too poor to afford
Il sleeper, crowded and hemmedin his pale
face made still paler, and his weak lungs
trritated constantly as he breathes the heavy
air made foul with smoke and dirt. He is
travelling Acknowledging about the car and
waiting on himself-shouldered this way
and that-getting little sympathy Or kind
ness, reeling at last into the worst corner of
the car because he is too weak to contend
for the best one. In the sleeper you see
the rich invalid reclining upon soft pillows,
surrounded by friends who minister to
every want and answer every wish before it
is spoken-wealth, hastening to console
where it cannot relieve, and brighten the
approaches to q death it cannot avert.
There are all sorts of parties on the train.
Here is worn, weary looking wife with
husband, whose hectic flesh tells too plain
ly that her troubles are nearly ended.
There father, with brood of children, are
gathered about dying mother, whose sweet
smile and loving words even impending
death cannot even still or subdue. Yonder
are father and mother watching a son,
and reading in each others anxious looks
the truth that either is afraid to speak. An
interesting pair is father, on whose life
this dread disease has fastened itself, tray
cling alone with his boy-a chubby young
ster of ten years, surrendered possibly by a
mother to watch over life that is precious
to her, but that she cannot follow. Right
across the car from me Is one of the most
touching figures in the cars.
A young woman Of perhaps thir-
ty years--with plain, resolute face
alone. She wears that indescribahle air OF
reserve and sadness that invests all women
who have lived their lives apart. She is
dressed plainly, and her well-worn habi
tells of privation and struggle. She is
probably D teacher. who, walking to and
from her wcrk in some bleak New
England village, thinly clad and ill-pro
tected, the winds and storms of winter
whipped into her slender form the seeds oI
disease. She had remained at her post toe
long SO long that death has already set Its
seal on her cheeks, and looks guam
and inexorable out of her great
clear eyes. 1t was probably poverty that
kept her there-probably the demands
Of mother or sister on her small
RESOURCES plnCHSu tnom 81 tAat euc,
| pinned her to her martyrdom. Ant
now, at last, on the savings
of many years, the price of her life
| she comes to find balm and healing
| n the South. There is despair in her
| face, but there is no trouble there. He
great eyes are cloudless. Her thin lips or;
peacefully closed, her brow is calm, ant
there is gentle resignation in every feature
Perhaps she looks with little regret to thu
end of life that has been hard and labori
Gus and lonely, and feels that God viii
give her at last the rest and peace 80 lone
denied her. Just beyond her there is
strong man, chatting uneasily in the thral
of disease. His face is knotted witt
suffering and dread. His wealth, hi
strength, his resources-none of these Civ,
him the peace and content that has com
to this frail and slender girl. Truly, ther
is no power like the consciousness of lif'
well spent, duty fully performed, q mis-
sion accomplished, q martyrdom endured
To the girl across the way death is but
falling asleep-a sweet, dreamless, rest at
ter long and wearying work. Cores
| pondence Atlanta Constitution.