Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1883-08-08
A MOTHERS LAST LETTER.
Written 20 Her Son shortly Before His
Execution.

Written to Her Son shortly Before His
Execution.
OF the thousands who read in tho
Gazette the report of the Clarksyille
executions none can have forgotten
the touching letter written to young
Jimmie" johnson a few days before
that fatal day. 1t was from his
mother, over whose humble home
brooded the desolation of the impend-
ing fate Of her son, who, though a
blood-stained criminal in the eyes OF
the law, was not less dear to her
whose eyes had looked upon him for
the last time.
She had received his own letter. and
writes: If could see you one time
more, how glad | would be" But"
and who can depict the agony the
simple words cost their heart-broken
author?-"My darling boy, the time is
close at hand when you will know
your doom. You asked me to forgive
you" Ask such mother to forgive
her son that mother who with
streaming eyes replies: "Yes: my
dear, if could take your place would
do it." Who does not believe this :?
Who does not feel that this poor
woman would gladly have mounted
the gallows that her darling boy might
be saved-and for what? To plunge
once more into crime? What of that
to her? Was he not her son, to whom
she wrote in her sweet, simple way
THE yard is full of roses and other
flowers. 1t would look good If you
were here" But he was not there.
Never was he to be there again. And
though the suns rays entered the little
yard and gilded the sweet flowers with
their golden sheen; though the
cherries had ripened--"the incest
cherries you ever saw" she writes
not for a moment could the demon Of
anguish gnawing at this fond mothers
heart be driven away "But, my
dear, l cannot enjoy anything. You
are never out of my mind" No Won
der the young criminal, though walk
ing in the valley of the shadow OF
death; though already feeling the fatal
moose tightening about his neck;
though listening to the tramp OF arm
ed men coming to bear him to a telon's
death-no wonder, even in that awful
hour, he forgot his own doom and
thought only. of her, who in her home,
far away, sat in the ashes of grief
unutterable, of a devotion unfathOma-
bic, and wept and grieved and prayed
as only mother can weep and grleve
and pray. No wonder that he even
pleaded that her last letter might be
printed, that the world might know
how good and noble she was, that the
world might see her as she appeared
to him, whose errant footsteps had led
him into crime, and was breaking her
heart,
THE children all send their love to
you. John is good boy to work.
Galley and Nan have to work all the
time. John does all the plowing.
Lydie talks a great deal about you.
Maud grows some" How tender and
loving! Criminal, murderer, though
he was, to that bereft household he
was only the absent and loved one;
and in her grief the mother could thus
write. She felt that he would find
consolation in their childish, affection
ate remembrance. She could think
of all this, and then add in words
grandly eloquent in their simplicity,
and filled with tenderness and the
agony of despair: 81 want you to
write me one more letter. This may
be the last one | can ever write to
you. Don't forget to pray, Jimmie
You know how well | love you, and |
never got tired waiting on you when
YOU were sick. You don't know how
bad | felt when | heard you was sick
and could not be with you. Now,
my darling boy, trust in God and don't
grieve any more about me. Edy
wants to write. All the love to you
that a mother can have, Write my
dear boy, if you can"
Every line of this letter has moist
ened eyes with tears Every line ap-
peals to the sweetest sympathies in
human nature. 1t is the very sublim-
ity of grief. 1t is the heart speaking
No one who did not feel as this hum
bic, God-fearing woman felt could
write as she wrote, in that last letter
to the one being she most fondly
loved-to the one being who least de,
served mothers love and prayers
and tears.
A Missing Quarter.
AS an instance of the exactness ex.