Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1883-05-03
THE DEAD DARLING.
An Affecting Episode In Every Day
Life-A Sketch for Mothers.
Detroit Letter.l

Detroit Letter.
A family living in this city possessed
one child, a bright boy of four years,
who during the last winter fell victim
to the frightful epidemic of diphtheria,
and after a brief illness died. Both pa
rents were crushed by the blow, but it
seemed AZ if the young mother never
would rally. At last friends suggested
that she make tour South to visit rela-
tives. and assisted her to get ready.
More dead than alive, she left home, and
accompanied only by her mother went
off Oh her mournful journey in search
Of health if not of happiness.
The husband meanwhile was left
alone; he was obliged to 60 every day
to his business; to buy and sell and
mingle with other msn, and keep back
the tears which it would have been un-
manly to shed, but which would rise in
his heart whenever he thought of his
beautiful boy; he was doubly bereaved
in also losing the society of his wife,
but he tried to bear it as best he might.
And then the thought occurred to
him that he might fill up his time and
also create a pleasant diversion for his
wife en- her return by making some
changes in their pretty home, so that
she would not be reminded at every
glance of the dear lost child; and he
called in paper-hangers, bought new
furniture, remodeled the old, and had
the happiness of having it all ready and
waiting when his wife returned. 1t had
literally been a labor of love with him,
and as he met his wife, and heard her
express her sincere wish for home, he
smiled in the gladness of his heart over
her anticipated relief. The house was
dimly lighted when she entered, but the
pretty sitting room was illuminated and
the new wall-hangings, the bright furni-
ture shene resplendent as she saw them
there. Her husband waited for her first
words of approval.
What is this ?" she asked in a faint,
cold voice. "This is not home; where
have you taken me, Charlie?"
at is home, DEAR" answered her hus
band kindly. II made the changes to
surprise you. l knew you could not
bear to see it just as it was when-when
you went away. Every thing is new and
different"
Her answer was q low, heart-broken
cry.
"Ob, Charliel how could you?" she
sobbed. Where is the dear old rocker
that used to rock little BERTHE to sleep
in every night of his life-Oh, what
have you done with that, and the place
on the wall where measured him eve
ry year, and the mark that his dear lit
tie high-chair made, and the nOtches he
cut in the widowsill, and the marks of
his little feet on the chair-rungs, and
his own nail to hang his cap and scarf
on? Why, Charlie, l could not sleep for
thinking of them. l hurried home to
see them-they were all had they
were all hsdr' --.-.---
Grief is selfsh-cold, cruel, and sci
fish to the living-but something in the
look her husband gave her made the
young wife stop and say gently: Never
mindl will get used to the new things
they are very pretty. Thank you,
DEAR
But, oh, the lost photographs on the
wall; the trace of sunny head the i'm
press of restless little fingers, now for
ever stilled; the mark of a boyish heel
on the doOrsill the magnetism of liy-
ing presence-these were gone never to
return; there was nothing left except
this: to remember that the daily comfort
and happiness of one human soul is
worth more than all the tears that af-
fection can shed over one who is gone
one who no longer needs "our poor pro-
tection"-who would bid US dry our
tears and look up-up to that Heaven
where all mourners shall be comforted.