The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1883-04-05

for I knew he wanted to say Some thing.
Silence is the rule, conversation the ar.
ception. And when they do speak thev
have something to say. So I waited.
and he said. after clearing his throat
and looking out of the open door:
IF she would just cry or sleep. She
has not shed tear since the baby died.
l thought she bore up real we'll, but a
woman who came over to help Law it
'ut said she hoped she'd have a CRYING
spell eoon.' 1 didn't think 80 much
ABOUT h It then, but reckon 'twould haye
HAS she no mother or sister to come
and stay with herr" Iasked. 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 unusually
tar away from any neighbors, and those
nearest have never been such as she
was used to, or cared to sec much.
never realized until lately now lonesome
| she's BEEN" e..--
! thought of the years spent in this
Isolated life. The leaving of all girl
hoods associations and friends In the
distant New England State, and coming
TO this new, strange lifei of the babies
who had come like CLEANS of sunshine.
and then were snatched away to leave
the lonesome monotony almost unen.
durable; of the settling down +. hard.
unceasing work that filed the empty
hands but not the aching heart; Of the
last baby who had come like a flood of
sunshine to the lonely house and mother
heart, and the three months in which
she held her darling close-so close! and
'hen-oh, how could it be! the bright,
beautiful boy must be laid with the
others. in the grassy slope. I thought
Vt all this as left the dining room and
'rossed the hall to her door. The warm
sunset came in through the western
window. She was lying with her face
coward it, the far-away, hungry look in
her eyes.
Mrs. C--,"I said, asI took h
thin, feverish hand in mine, sis there
no one who could come and stay with
you, whom You would love to have near
you and care for you?"
No one," she said, YEARLY.
"HoW you must wish for your mother
Mother" she repeated, catching at
the word; Mother? Yes. It is mother
[ want now. How I do want herl I
need my mother now"
1T was a woman OF thirty-five lying be-
fore 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 I could only bring
the tears to her eyes, thought, as re-
membered her husbands words. "Ifshe
would only cry or sleep! A silent prayer
went up from my heart to the plying
Father in Heaven, and like an inspira-
!ian came those beautiful verses Of Eliza
beth Akers Allen.
DO you care for poetry" I asked,
as she started to turn the subject.
II used to-" she answered.
Now. if you'll close your eyes and
try to sleep, I want to repeat some to
you l know you'll like" She smiled
sadly, but shut them and rested her
cheek on her other hand like tired
child. And l began:
Backward a;rI+ turn backward, o time, in your
Make me child again just for tonight;
Mother: come back from the echoeless
shore,
Take me- again to your heart az of wore.
Kiss from my forehead the burrows of care.
smooth the silver threads out of my hair,
over my siumber your loving watch keen.
Rock lae to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.
How still she was! 1t seemed as if she
hardly brcathed.
Backward, flow backward, O tide of the
am SO weary Of tolls and oftears,
Io1l without recompense, tears all in vain,
Take them and give me my childhood again.
have grown weary of dust and decay.
Weary of fnging my soul-wealth away,
weary OF sowing for Others to reap;
Was it the echo of sigh that trembled
On the air? And all! her lips CULVER.
fired of the hollow, the base, and untrue.
Mother, y mother, my heart calls for you.
Many summer the grass has grown green.
Blossomed and faded our faces between;
Yet with strong yearning and passionate
Long tonight for your presence again;
Come from the silence so long and so deep,
Rock me to sleep mother, rock me to sleep
Can it be tears tnat glitter on the dark.
lashes1 And-oh, they come! Stealing
under the lids, down the pale cheeks,
Thorough the thin fingers sinking softly
in the pillow:
'G WITH e fst your brown hair Just lighted
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
let !: tall over my forehead tonight
shading my faint eyes away from the light.
For with its sunny-edged shadow once more
HAPPY will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright pillows sweep,
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.
Still the tears came. Silently, steadily.
Great warm, refreshing tears, that had
long refused to flow. MY voice was
very unsteady as began the last verse:
Mother, dear mother, the years have been
long
since last listened thy lullaby song;
Sing then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only dream
With thy light lashes Just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep
r OK me to sleep mother. rock me to sleep,
1 hardly dared stir lest break the
spe !, and I repeated the last verse over
and over again though there was no
need, for the hand I held relapsed it's
hold, and-she slept! Was ever poem
sent on more direct mission?'
The sunset had faded into twilight.
heard the low twinkling of the cow. bells
as the herd-boy drove them slowly
homeward. Some latebird called to it's
mate from a neighboring tree. rose
softly to 60, and turning, saw Mr.. c.
standing in the doorway. The tears
were in his eyes as we'll, and O look
shone from their honest depths that was
not for me to share. AS I passed him
whispered, "She is SAFE" And she was.
Mr.. Jonathan Bowers, of Blancheste., O.,
writes: II am " years ofage. keep Guy
sott's Yellow Dock and 4arsaparilla always