Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1883-05-31

me. Then l have so much reading l
want to do
"Ah, yes" she sighed, when / was
married lenged TO read, but there was
no time. | sometimes think | shall new
er read again"
thought of the thinking that went
on day after day, and alas, night after
night; and | trembled for her reason.
Then something prompted ME to break
the pause that followed by saying: "Yo ou
must miss the little ones the dear God
has taken from you, very much'-and |
was sorry the next instant, for great
pain swept across her face; but with it
l had learned the secret of her weari-
ness. She said, with evident effort:
81 have not been strong since baby
came and went. And / must get well,
there is so much to be done before win
ter sets in.' She opened her eyes
brown eyes they were-and thought of
Alice Cary's lines
''Her sick souEaweary with waiting
Came up to look out of her eyes"
Jenny, the dsirymaid, came In for some
directions, and went up stairs with that
look haunting me. A few days later
she was fevsrish and decidedly worse.
Il wish you'd go in and see her, if you
wouldn't mind" her husband said, as l
inquired for her as usual after supper
Then, instead of putting on his broad
brimmed hat and following his brother
to the barns, he took it off again and fin
gered the rim slowly. | waited, for
knew he wanted to say something.
Farmsr-fOlk are generally very silent.
Silence is the rule, conversation the ex
ception. When they do speak they have
something to say. So | waited, and he
said, after clearing his throat and look
ing out Of the open door.
IF she would just cry or sleep. She
has not shed tear since the baby died.
woman who came over to help lay it out
said she hoped she'd have crying spell
Soon And l didn't think 80 much
about it then, but reckon 'twould have
been better"
HAS she no mother or sister to come
and stay with her?" asked. He shook
his head.
"Her mother died soon after we were
married, and she was an only child.
have sister, but she has little children
and could not come, even if Minnie
wanted her. Our farmhouse is unusU-
ally far away from any nsighbOrs, and
those nearest have never been such AS
she was used to, or cared to see much.
l never realized until lately how lonely
she's BEEN.
thought Of the years spent in this
isolated life. The leaving all girlhood's
and friends in the distant
New England State and, coming to this
new, strange life; Of the babies who had
come like CLEANS of sunshine, and then
were snatchsd away to leave the nonot-
ony almost uncomfortable; Of the settling
down to har0, uRceasing work that fill
ed the empty hands but not the aching
heart; of the last baby who had come
like whole flood Of sunshine to the
lonely heart, and the three months in
whish she held her darling close-sO
close and thsn-oh, how could it be!
the bright, beautiful boy must be laid
with the others in the grassy slope. l
thought of all this as l left the dining
room and crossed the hall to her door.
The warm sunset came in through the
western window. She WAS lying with
her face toward it, the far-away, hun
CRY look in her eyes.
"Mrs. c." said, as I took her
thin, feverish hand in mine, lis there no
one who could come and stay with you,
whom you would love to have near you
and care for you?"
Ne ons," she said, wearily.
How you must wish for your mother
now." went on.
"Mother," she repeated, catching at
The word; Mother? Yes. 1t is mother
[ want now. How l do want her! l
need my mother now ..
1t was q woman of thirty-fYs lying
before me, yet it did not sound childish.
1t came to her like fresh thought; as
Of something SO impossible it had not
occurred to her. If could only bring
the.tesss to her eyes / thought, AS re-
her husbands words. "If she
would only cry or Sleep" A silent pray
er went up from my heart to the plying |
Father in Heaven, and Ike an inspira
lion come those beautiful verses of EliZ- |
abeth Akers Allen.
do you care for poetry?" l asked, as
she started to turn The subject.
Il used to-" she answered.
Now, if you'll close your eyes and
try to sleep, want to repeat some to
you know you'll like. She smiled sad
y bus shut them and rested her cheek |
On her other hand like a tired child. !
And l began:
Backward, turn backward, Time in your |
flight,
Make me child again just fer tonight;
Mother, come back from the echoless shore, |
Take me again to your heart as of yore.
Kiss from my forehead the burrows Of care,
smooth the few silver threads out of my hair,
Over my slumber your loving watch keep,
Rock me TO sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.
How still she was! 1t seemed as if |
'he hardly breathed.
Backward, flow backward, o tide of the
years,
am so weary of tolls and Of tears
Foil without recOmpense, tears all in vain,
Fake them and give me my childhood again.
have grown weary of dust and decay,
Weary of fiinging my soul-wealth away,
Weary of sowing for others to reap;
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep"
Was it the echo of sigh that trem-
oled on the air? And ahl her lips Quiver.
Tired of the hollow, the base and untrue,
Mother, o mother. my heart calls for you
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
3lossomed and faded our faces between;
Yet with strong yearning and passionate pain
long l tonight tor your presence again;
Iome from the silence so long and 80 deep,
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.
Can it be tears that glitter on the dark
ashes? And-oh, they comel Stealing
lnder the lids, down the pale cheeks,
through the thin fingers sinking softy
nto the pillow.
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted
with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
let it fall over my forehead tonight,
shading my faint eyes away from the light,
Cor with its sunny>edged shadows once more