Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1883-12-27
Helena, Montana, Thursday December u, 1883.
The Magic of a Mothers Kiss.

Habit makes people Indifferent, even to
the sight of death, and people in constant
association with misery become at last al
most heartless unless startled by some
scene out of the usual routine OF events.
A case of this kind happened at the morgue
in one of the continental cities recently.
A white e-haired woman, scarcely beyond
middle age, but broken spirited with some
gnawing grief that was sapping health and
destroying intelligence, had become daily
feature at the mOrgue, so much so indeed
that the attendants began to look upon her
visits as duty on her part. If she failed
to put in appearance promptly at the regu-
lation hour some one would be sure to re-
mark: "Crazy James behind time," or
where's Crazy Jane to-day?' Rain or
shine, hot or cold, Crazy Jane" as the
'boys" had dubbed the woman, who, not
withstanding her unfortunate state OF mind,
had inspired those rude 'stiff-handlers," as
they pride themselves on being called, with
something very like respect. Her story,
real or imagined, was brief. Her boy, her
only child, had wandered from the shelter
of her home and love some five years be-
fore. He had become involved with evil.
The law had encompassed him, but in pity
for mis- youth-he was then but fourteen
had kindly sent him to the criminal school
of the State for only two years. The in
structiOns he obtained there must have
been of the highest and most moral sort for
when his time expired he had forgotten
his mother She sought for him in vain
She knew he was dead, or he would not
have kept her waiting so long. So she
came to the morgue every day, and with
her tender, loving mother eyes scanned
the face of every face resting on that stone
pillow. If it CHANGED to be young, she
would bend over it dreamily and mutter ::
Somebody's boy, somebody's boy, may be
my boy" Then she kissed the icy brow,
and walked away, saying softly, Thank
you," to the attendant.
One day, half-drunken fellow had stag
gered and fallen in the street in front of the
building. The men had dragged him in
and let him sleep off his booze among the
''stiffs" and some of the boys" just for a
clark" had suggested laying him out on
slab" The joke was carried out, and while
they were sponging and fixing the now
reviving young fellow, Crazy Jane made
her appearance. The boys" stepped back
expecting to see some fun, as this was one
of Crazy James kissing subjects.
AS usual, she went the rounds muttering
to herself When she stopped over the
face of the last arrival she encountered
pair of bloodshot but wide awake eyes,
from which the stupor was clearing, to be
replaced by an expression of horror and
surprise The woman recoiled, slowly
brushing some invisible shade trOnts her
brow. AS her form drew back the head
of the man was lifted like an object at
tracted by magnet, the face of each gray
with the pallor of frightful emotion. Back
she retreated to the very wall, her eyes di-
lated and dawning with intelligence and
recognition. One instant the young man
stood upright before her, as if supported by
some mighty effort, then his limbs refused
their stay, and with moan of shame and
agony he fell upon his knees at her feet,
"Motherw
''My son, Oh my son.
Sorrow for past i'll doth restore trail man
to innocence, says the poet. Mother and
son, from whom have this true story, live
here in New York now, respected and
worthy of all esteem. E. S. Mf'N.