Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-10-05
HER LITTLE HIGHNEss. .
A Touching Letter from Robert j
Burdette on the Death of His Wife.

HER LITTLE HIGHNESS."
A Touching Letter from Robert j.
Burdette on the Death of His Wife.
! Mr.. Robert j. Burdette is something
more than a humorist. The following
letter to a friend, speaking of the death Of
his wife, has pictures in it as pathetic and
touching as those in Dickens David
Copperield:"
ARDMORE, July 8, 1884.
Dear Mrs. PlllinG: So many times |
| have tried to write TO you since Carrie fell
asleep, and so many times do not write
because / have so much time. 1t is not
easy to do anything when one has TOO
much time. l wrote more and wrote more
easily-I accomplished more when there
was a restless little head to be soothed
and petted; when there was a hot, tum-
bled pillow to adjust; when there was
helpless little hand to hold until the ache
went away. Now l have nothing to do,
and so do nothing.
She did not pass away in forgetfulness
OF you. Too many times your coming had
brought comfort to our home; too many
times you had come with home and cour-
age and strength in your hands. She
thought Of you in the closing days, and
often spoke of you.
wish you might have seen her when
she lay at rest. l would like you to have
that picture of perfect rest, Of eternal
peace, of quiet, untroubled sleep-the
dear little face not marked by one line or
mark of pain and sickness; J. would like
you TO have that picture of her to carry in
your heart, because | know how dearly
you loved her.
Her last Sunday on earth was with
| acute pain, but she was very restless, her
breathing was distressed, she ate nothing.
She wanted us, Dora and Robbie and my
self, to be near her all the time, as for
months past she had constantly expressed
the same desire. Many times she hoped
we could be alone, just our own little fam
/ lily, when she passed away.
Several times this afternoon she asked:
Chow does the day wear onp' During
the closing weeks of her earthly life she
had always used that expression in ask
ing the hour. Dear, patient, little suf-
ferer. The day did indeed ''Wear on" with
her.
Suddenly night came on; she was
weary, but complained of no acute pain,
and seemed glad. When the darkness came
on Dora took my place at her side; at
sunset and until O'clock walked on the
lawn; for weeks past Dora and l divided
the watching between US. Carrie seemed
so content and happy to have cue OF us
near her all the time.
When l came in at O'Clock there was
no change to make US apprehensive. A
score of times within the year we had felt
more fearful that the end was near. 1t
made Carrie restless and distressed her to
have US sit up, so 1 partially undressed
and lay down by her side. The night
grew cold, but she did not appear to
notice it. The windows were wide open
for air, but her breathing was no easier.
She did not sleep. Part of the time she
closed her eyes, but for the greater part
Of the night the soft brown eyes were
open, the patient light that blessed our
home shining in them.
AT times her mind was busy with per-
sons and places and scenes remote in time
and distance. All the night long | heard
her whispering softly, as though she talk
ed with the angels who were ministering
unto her. When l leaned closer to listen
she would turn her face toward me, smile,
and bid me never mind; she was only
dreaming. Constantly the position of her
head had to be changed; her pillows grew
hot, she said. Four or five of them were
kept in almost continuous rotation,
changing every two or three minutes. She
did not complain; she did not appear to
notice that she was so restless. About ?
O'Clock in the morning she asked again,
show does the night wear on?' and then
I wanted to call the family, but she said
mo, it was not necessary" Il do not
think" she said, "the end is very near"
The morning air was blowing chill and
strong through the room, but she did not
appear to feel the cold very much, and
only had one light extra blanket thrown
over her. About o'clock l heard her say
softly and lovingly:
"Sit closer to me, Dora"
And then she added:
show quiet and beautiful the lake is
tonight"
Then l knew she was back in her old
home on the bluff in Peoria, the beautiful
home of her Childhood; once more she was
sitting on the white-columned porch with
Dora, her darling sister, always dear to
her and always by her side, and they were
looking at the sleeping waters of the star
lit lake. She was sitting alone with Dora.
Just pluming its snowy wings for flight,
the soul turned back one moment TO the
morning of life, and my darling nestled
close to the side of the loving and beloved
sister.
The gray light of the early morning
was creeping in through the open win
dows, and on her patient face, glorifed
by suffering, was shining another, fairef
light, that knew was streaming from
celestial portals opening for her. She
smiled sweetly as l crossed the room and
stopped to kiss her, and said;
Bob, dear, it is
The chill before the dawning
Between night and morning"
1t was the hour at which she had ex-
pressed the wish that she might pass
away, and i knew that she referred to a