St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1884-10-09
The Dealh of Mrs. Burdette.

loving letter nom MIR. Burdette to an
intimate friend and for many years
medical attendant of the family:
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. ] wrote more and wrote easily
| accomplished more, when there was
a restless little head to be soothed and
petted; when there was hot, tum-
bled pillow to adjust; when there was
ache went away. Now | have nothing
to do. and so / do nothing.
She did not pass away i'll fOrgetful
ness of you. Too many times your
coming had brought comfort to onr
home /; too many times you had come
with hope and courage and strength in
your hands. She thought of you in the
closing days and often spoke of you.
wish yo II might have seen her
when she lay at rest. | would 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 or sick
ness,-l would like you to have that
picture to carry in your heart, because
| know how dearly you loved her.
Her last Sunday on earth was with
out pain, but she was very restless,
her breathing was distressed, she ate
nothing. She wanted us, Dora, Rob
bic and myself, to be near her all the
time, as for months past she had con-
stantly expressed the same desire.
Many times she said she hoped we
could be alone, just our own little fam
| lily when she passed away.
| Several times during the afternoon
she asked, "How 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 days did
indeed ''wear on" with her.
Sunday night came; she was weary,
but complained of no acute pain, and
seemed glad when the darkness came
on. Dora took my place mt her side
ut sunset, and until 9 O'Clock | walked
on the lawn for weeks Dora and
divided the watching between us.
Carrie seemed so content and happy to
have one of us near her all the time.
When | came in 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
Car, ie restless and distressed 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 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 time the soft brown eyes
were open; the patient light that
blessed our hom shining in them.
At times heT mind was busy with
persons and places and scenes remote
in time and distance. All night long
heard her whispering softly as though
she talked with the angels who were
ministering unto her. When / leaned
closer to listen she would turn her face
toward me, smile, and bid me never
mind, she was only dreaming. Con-
stantly the position of her head had to
be changed her pillow grew hot she
said. Four or five of them were kept
i'll almost continuous rotation, chang
ing 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, GLOW does the time wear
on ?" and then | wanted to call the
family, but she said "No, it was not
necessary 81 do not think" she said,
'the end is very near"
The morning air was blowing chill
through the room, but she did not ap-
pear to feel the cold very much, and
only had one light extra blanket thrown
over her About o'clock | heard hel
say softly and lovingly:
''Sit closer to me, Dora"
And then she added
'How quiet and beautiful the lake is
b tonight"
I Then | knew she was back in hei
old home ON the bluff in Peoria, the
beautiful home of her childhood once
more she was sitting on the white-col-
umned porch with Dora, her sister,
always dear to her, and always by heI
side, and they were looking at the
{ sleeping waters of the starit lake. She
was sitting alone with Dora. just
= pluming its snowy wings for flight, the
soul turned back for one moment t.
the morning of life, and my darling
Il nestled close to the side of the loving
and beloved sister.
The grey light of early morning wa.
creeping in through the open windows
and on her patient face, glorified by
t. suffering, was shining another, fairel
). light. that | knew was streaming from
celestial portals open for her. Sh,
smiled sweetly as | crossed the room
and stopped to kiss her, and said:
"Rob,. .dear, it is
The chill before the dawning
Between the night and morning
1t was the hour at which she had ex
pressed wish that she might pas
away, and knew that she referred t,
IA favOrite verse of poem that sh,
loved. | said
"Yes. dear, | think the sun will com,
| very soon now"
Her face grew radiant as she smile,
again and said
Yes, he will come for me this morn
ing"
Dora was quickly at her side and W,
- knew there were watchers whom w
could not see standing in the room
She was so nearly past all suffering
she was sOlicitous only for our comfort
. and in quiet, loving tones, gave som
|, little instructions: "You must kee
well and strong"
The nurse entered the room, bu
Carrie could take neither nourishmen
nor medicine. 81 want nothing" sh
said. Her breathing became more la
borious. The doctor arrived, but sh
: could not swallow the medicine, an
he held her hand, bade her good-b
= and went away, promising to com
again during the morning. About
+. o'clock Robbie came into the room
- kissed his ''little mamma" and stoo
J. close by her side.