Connecticut western news., 1884-10-15
HOW MY BABY DIED.
A PARENTS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION
 OF THE UHILD'S DEATH.
How it Appeared in all its Different Phases
 A Dream and What it Revealed,

The doctor said it was a severe cold, and prescribed for it. He went away and returned in an hour without being called. Then knew my baby boy was more ill than had thought, and when he went away, followed him out of the house and into the -burdened air, and said to him:
 "Doctor, tell me the truth. Will my baby die ?"
 "It is very i'll, he replied, 'but there is yet little hope" Then I returned and looked again on that sweet face of my little boy. Where dimples had been, were hard white lines of pain. Where the nostrils had been such soft and velvety pink, you could see the light shine through their walls, and every hair-like vein was blue almost to blackness. The little hands which I was wont to feel batting my cheeks had lost their cunning, and were lying use- lessly on its heaving bosom, purple and ClCANhCds hhCN OdOJ Wdo hOt AOA long. knew that even the angels, who loved it little better than I, were wait ing to take it away. I saw the death dew stand in diamond beads upon it's alabaster brow and felt the dampenfng curls, that clustered like falling sunshine where I had been wont to kiss it. I heard the faint gurgling in my baby's throat, and saw no recognition in its eyes, once so soft and blue, and laugh ing, but now glassy with the film of death. They were looking through the ceiling and roof of my humble cottage, into the realms where the Recording Angel sat, with the book of life open be- fore him, at a page as white as snow, save where the name was written at the top-the name of my darling boy.
 The snow flakes ceased to fall, and the glad sunlight from the west came in through the window and fell upon my baby's bed, flooding it with radiance and glory like that which trembles on the golden tiles of heaven, and then the sun sauk out of view, and in the gray twilight my baby lay, struggling body and soul, the one with the other, for the mastery. As the shadows deepened, I saw the bony hand of death reach out from among the pillows, and clutch my baby by the throat. I tried to fight the monster back, but he would not loose his hold.
 The lamps were lighted and saw my baby smile, as if it saw face more well come, kind and sweet, than the face of her that bore it, bending over its cradle the face of Him who said: ''Suffer little children to come unto me, and for bid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God" and while it yet smiled, the soul went out from the tabernacle of clay, and left the temple tenantless and cold, but beautiful as life itself. My baby was dead, and I was clasping to my heart only the clay image of its soul, now winging its flight through the boundless depths of blue that lie be. tween the grave and the throne of God. Is it wonder that men worship idols of clay, when clay is so grandly beautiful as this
 slept and dreamed, and as dreamed, I saw the pearly gates swing open, and I knew my baby reached home. I caught a glimpse of heaven, and saw it fly straight to the arms of Him who died upon the cross, and ere the gates were closed, the angel with the book drew bis wand across the page and held it up to the others, and I saw that nought but the name of my darling boy was there, written in characters of shin- ing gold; while all the rest was pure and white, and as the gates swung shut, the harps of millions sang glad refrain. -TTrOu0h 1Tdn