The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1884-08-15

spring weather so gladly as she dld
that year. Frank seemed to get quite
well and strong as the warm weather
came, and therefore perhaps less pru-
dent, for in May he again caught cold
and came home sick from school.
He was severely i'll from the first
in few days diptheric symptoms do
veloped themselves, and twenty-four
hours later the bright young soul was
freed from its frail tenement, and Mrs.
Sunderland was chlldless widow
will not dwell upon her desolation
the whole community sorrowed with |
her; everybody had liked merry little
Frank Sunderland, and his mother was
almost an equal favorite. If friendly
sympathy could have lightened her
grief that solace would have been hers;
perhaps it did, even though uncon-
sciously to herself, but, as she sat the
evening before the funeral by the side
of her dead darling, she felt as though
there could never be any more bright
ness or pleasure for her this side Of
eternity.
She sat there fearless, speechless and
despairing, and heard not the timid
knock that came upon the door, nor
did she notice the figure that amoment
later entered the room, until voice
choked with sobs said:
"Please, Mrs. Sunderland, mayn't ]
see him.'
Then she turned and saw Charlie
Cooper The boys swollen eyes show
ed that he had been crying, but Mrs.
Sunderland looked at him, apethetical-
ly, and when she had realized what it
was he wanted, turned quite calmly to-
wards the coffin and withdrew the
cloth that covered the waxen face
Charlie gazed for few moments
upon his dead school-mate, awed and
silent, though the tears chased each
other down his cheeks In a little
while the mother kissed the marble
brow, still with that unnatural calm
ness, and recovered the face.
Charlie was trembling from head to
foot with repressed agitation, and Mrs.
Sunderland almost unconsciously laid
her hand upon his shoulder as if to
calm him. At her touch the boys
self,control gave way; with a child's
instructive desire for comfort and sup
port in sorrow, he flung his arms
around her. and dropping his head
upon her bosom, burst into violent
fit of weeping
"Oh, Mrs. Sunderland y he cried, II
cant bear to have him die; | can't
can't-he was always so good TO me. "
The mothers lips quiveied; her fea-
lures worked convulsively the healing
tears came at last to her aching eyes,
and with her face bowed upon Charles
curly head, she, too, wept freely and
softly, and with the blessed tears the
first bitterness of her anguish passed
away.
Mrs. Sunderland's friends came to
her and took her away from the scene
} of her bereavement All that affection
could do was done to cheer her, and
. after few months her healthy, cheer
full temper began to reassert itself, and
so aided the effort of beneficient ma
ture that by September she felt able to
, return to Greenville and her boys
grave, and to become again, in a meas.
, ure, her old calm and gentle self
The schools had just reopened, and
, though the remembrance of one short
year ago, when her own boy was there,
the brightest and most hopeful of the
| young throng who commenced the
t school year together, brought a pang
of almost unbearable pain to the
( mothers heart, she endured this suffer
t ing as she had endured all the rest
t uncomplainingly.
t The examination for promotion was
). again held, and this time Charlie
t Cooper ranked first among the five Of
. his class who were promoted to the
+ higher department. Mrs. Sunderland
= was sincerely pleased when she heard
of the lads triumph, and few morn
; ings later, when she met him, sht
stopped to shake hands with him, con
/, graduating him most cordially. "Bu
! how does it happen you are not in the
] school this morning'" she asked
9 M-I-don't 60 to school just now?
e he stammered. "l've stopped awhile.
: "Why, how does that happen Sure
r ly, now is the very time you ought t.
y be most regular in attendance" "
81 know-Id like to be, but" -
y again he stopped much emil arassed
and it was not without a good deal 0
{, questioning that Mrs. Sunderland a
d last drew from him the informatio
k that he had ceased to attend school O.
account of his fathers inability to pre-
cure for him the new set of schoo
n books his promotion had made neces
sary.
"Father's had felon on his hand a
s summer. and it's not well yet. II
= hasn't been able to work much, an
f we've had to be awful economical
e Mother cried like everything whe
s father said he just couldn't spare th
l. money to buy lot of new books. Sh
was mad at first, but she soon got owe
n that, for she knew father couldn't hel
h.; it. She's saving up now, and so am
l. and Well raise the money between u
u before Christmas, I guess, thoug
It those kind of books do cost like smoke
4. he concluded, with rueful sigh.
d After he had gone Mrs. Sunderlan
Is returned to her home, and, enterin
k, the darkened parlor, sat in the rockin
1t chair and rocked and cried softly for
II long time.
e. Then she went up stairs and opent
q deep drawer in a bureau, fro
le whence issued a strong perfume
ID withered rose leaves. She remov,
e the linen towel that shrouded the co
rs tents of the drawer, and from one &C
st ner drew forth slate and pile
te school books, almost new She open,
r the books one by one, and in each s.
De kissed the name, "Frank Sunderland
,e inscribed in big, boyish hand tn
I'd she laid her cheek upon the bool
he foDdling them as though they we
n. living creatures, and cried again
AT last she wiped her eyes and ii
n, up the books in a neat, strong pac
i'll age.
en- 81 am doing just as he would wa
I'd me to do" she said to herself. S