The Worthington advance., 1882-03-09
On the Way to Florida.

The train on Which we are Hiding toward
Florida Is filed with consumptives seeking
a new lease Of life in the tropics. They are
in all the cars, and trnyeling under all con.
ditions. In the second rate cars you see
here and there nm invalid too poor to afford
sleeper, crowded and hemrledin, his pale
face made still paler, end his weak lungs
:rritated constantly as he breathes the heavy
air made foul with smoke and dirt. He ia
travelling alone-tottering about the car and
waiting on himself-shouldered this way
and that-getting little sympathy or kind
ness, recling at last into the worst corner Of
the car because he is too weak TO contend
for the best ono. 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
ia spoken-wealth. hasteniug to console
where it cannot relieve, and brighten the
approaches to death it cannot avert.
There are all sorts Of parties ON the train.
Here is q worn, weary looking wife with
love in her patient eyes. nlinistering to her
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. Yondor
and reading in each others anxious locks
the truth thet 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
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
A young Woman Of perhaps thir-
ty yearswith plain, resolute face
alone. She wears that indescribeble air Of
reserve and sadness that invests all women
who have lived their lives apart. She ts
dressed plainly, and her we,l.worn habit
tells Of privation and struggle. She is
probably teacher, who, walking to and
from her work in some blelk Now
England village. thinly clad and ill.pro-
teoted, the winds and storms of wintor
whipped into her slender form the seeds Of
disease. She had remained at her post too
long SO long that death has already set its
seal on her cheeks. and looks guant
and inexorable out of her great,
clear eyes. 1t was probably poverty that
kept her there-probably the demands
OF q mother or sister on her small
resources pinched them so that they
pinned her to her martyrdom. And
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 ne trouble there. Her
great eyes are cloudless. Her thin lips are
peacefully closed, her brow is calm, and
there is gentle resignation in every feature.
Perhaps she looks with little regret to the
end ofa life that has been hard and latori-
Gus and lonely, and feels that God will
give her at last the rest and peace 50 long
denied her. Just beyond her there is
strong man, chatting uneasily in the thrall
of disease. His face is knottel with
suffering and dread. His wealth, his
strength, his resouroes-none of these give
him the peace and content that has come
to this froil and slender girl. Truly, there
is no power like the consciousness Of life
we'll spent, duty fully performed, mis-.
sion accomplished, a martyrdom endured.
To the girl across the way death is but
falling asleep-a sweet, dreamless, rest af-
ter long and wearying work.-Corres-
pondence Atlanta Constitution.