Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1884-10-15
"HER LITTLE HIGHNESS."
A Touching Letter from Robert J. Burdette
on the Death of his Wife.

A Touching Letter from Robert ]. Burdette
ON the Death of his Wife.
Robert J. Burdette is something more
than 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's David Copperfield:
ARDMoRE, July 3, 1SS4.-Dear Mrs. Pill
ing: So many times l have tried to write
to you since Carrie fell asleep, and so many
times do not write because have so much
time. l wrote more and wrote more easily
II accomplished more when there was a
restless little head to be soothed and petted;
when there was a hot, tumbled pillow to
adjust; when there was helpless little
hand to hold until the ache went away.
Now have nothing to do, and so do moth
ing.
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 hope, and cour-
age and strength and courage in your
hands. She thought of you in the closing
days and often spoke of you.
l wish you might have seen her when she
lay at rest. I would like you to have that
picture of perfect rest, Of eternal peace, of
quiet. untToubled sleep-the dear little face
not marked by one line or mark of pain
and sickness would like you to have that
picture of her to carry in your heart, be-
cause / know how dearly you loved her.
Her last Sunday on earth was with acute
pain, but she was very restless, her breath
ing was distressed, she ate nothing, She
wanted us, Dora and Robbie and myself,
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 family, when she
passed away.
Several times this afternoon she asked,
GLOW does the day wear on?'' During the
closing weeks of her earthly life she had
always used that expression in asking the
hour. Dear, patient little sufferer. The
day did "wear on" with her.
Suddenly night came on; she was weary,
but complained of no acute pain, and seem
ed glad. When the darkness came on,
Dora took my place at her side; at sunset,
and until 8 o'clock walked on the lawn;
for weeks past Dora and l divided the
watching between us. Carrie seemed so
content aud happy to have one of us near
her all the time. When I came in at 8
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 dis
tressed her to have US sit up, so | 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 we're open,
the patient light that blessed our home
shining in them.
At times her mind was busy with persons
and places and scenes remote in time and
distance. All the night long l heard her
whispering softly, as though she whispered
to the angels, who were ministering unto
her. When l leaned close 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 nO:ice that she was so
restless. About two o'clock in the morn
ing she asked again: elbow does the night
wear on?" and then 1 wanted to call the
family, but she said, "'No, it was not nee
essary." 81 do not think" she said, ssthe
end is very near''
The morning air was blowing chill and
strong through the room, tbut she did not
appear to feel the cold vey much, and only
had one extra blanket thrown over her.
About 4 o'clock heard her say softly and
lovingly:
''Sit closer to me, Dora"
| And then she added:
elbow beautiful and quiet the lake is to-
night"
Then l knew she was back in her old
home on the bluff in Peoria, the beautiful
home of her girlhood; 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 waters of the starlit 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 early morning was
creeping in through the open windows, and
on her patient face, glorified by suffering,
was shining another fairer light, that l
know was streaming from celestial portals
OPOhlh9 lOl hOis OuO oIlilCu SWcCUly DIS 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 sne had ex-
pressed the wish that she might pass away,
and 1 knew that she referred to a favorite
verse of a poem that she loved. l said:
eyes, dear, think the sun will come
very soon now"
Her face grew radiant as she smiled
again, and said:
eyes, he will come for me this morninv'
Dora was quickly at her side, and we
knew there were watchers whom we could
not see standing in the room. She who
was so nearly past all suffering was solicit
GUS only for our comfort, and in quiet, low
ing tones, gave some little instructions,
"You must keep well and strong"
| The nurse entered the room, but Carrie
could take neither nourishment nor medi-
cine. ~ want nothing" she said. Her
breathing became more laborious. The
doctor arrived, but she could not swallow
the medicine, and he held her hand, babe
her goodbye and went away, promising
to come in again during the morning.
About 6 o'clock Robbie came into the
room, kissed his 'slittle mamma" and stood
close by her side.
There was no fear, no dread in all the
scene. She could speak only in short,
broken sentences. AS repeated the beau
tiful promises to her, how her face kindled
as she smiled upon us, turning her deal
face from one to the other. Even as she
entered the river she said ''the sun was
shining on it." She did not shrink. The
waters were not so cold, nor SO bitter. She
had no fear, for she relied on the strong
right arm of the Son of Righteousness. :.
Moved by sudden impulse, about hal