The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1884-03-18
One Widows Great Woe.


her She is a shriyeled pinched little
widow, whose thin, rusty black gar
mentS and faded veil Of Grape have
wlth'tood the storms and sunshine Of
the six wears that have passed by since
she put on mourning for her lost hus-
band. lie had been a generous, dash
lng sailor, who spent his little earnings
to make his family comfortable, and
when he went down at sea she dropped
all her old luxurious ways and went
forth to earn living for the two little
girls that were left to her. BY going
out to nurse the sick and by taking in
sewing when not otherwise employed,
she managed to keep the children with
her, and last fall, when the younger
one began to 90 to school and brought
home little words of praise and encour-
agement from her teacher, there was
not happier mother in Boston than
the one who occupied the modest tene-
ment on Northampton street. Work
and the responsibility of supporting her
children respectfully had dulled her
great sorrow, and the desire to rear
them to honest womanhood was some
thing to keep up her tagging spirits
and cause hope to spring and grow
from what had at one time seemed the
depths of despair Merry Christmas
was not celebrated with more joyful
ness anywhere than in this little family;
the turkey was small and the dolls were
| inexpensive, but they were as much to
these two children and their hearts were
as grateful for the gifts as though the
treasures Of Aladdin had been showered
upon them. 1t was the last Christmas
they were ever destined to see. On New
| Years day the eldest-she of the curly
hair and eyes that were black and mcr-
ry, like her father s-died of scarlatina,
| and in one week from her death the
other one, who was so tall and demure,
and who looked like little woman in
spite Of her shfautilc years, was laid be-
side her sister in Forest Hills.
The widowed mother went through it
all, watched at their sides by night and
day. saw them toss and moan in de-
lirium, gave them soothing medicines,
smoothed their fcverish pillows, ever
whispering words of comfort and cheer,
and when all hope was gone still held
their pallid hands and closed their sight
less eyes without a tear. On the day
after the last one was buried she Gought
two simple ouquets of pinks and ferns,
and taking them to the cemetery placed
them on the graves of her "babies,
as she was in the habit of calling them.
The following day her pilgrimage was
repeated, and the next and the next and
the next. Her habits were so regular
that no matter how cold or how warm
it was, or how many stayed at home on
account of the weather, the conductors
Of the E gleston Square line of horse
cars felt sure of having at least one
| passenger every day. These visits were
made early in the forenoon, and after
she had finished this duty she would
wander around on the various streets of
the Highlands, looking at the children
as they romped and played, and asking
every one she met if they had seen any.
thing Of her babies. After removing
the old bouquets and replacing then
with fresh ones, she would make cir
cult Of the burying- place. and then walk
down Washington street as far as bud
ley street, Then instead of going home
she would turn up Warren street to
Grove Hall and return by the way OF
Blue Hill avenue, peering anyiously in
to the face of every little girl she saw,
and asking her if she had seen her Hat
tie and Mamie. MY Mamie had hair
like yours" she said to child in VIM
throp street, curling her tresses fondly
on her fingers and matching them with
a lock which she held in her hand;
''but hers was nicer than yours; see it
Is as fine and yellow as threads of gold.
L have lost her somewhere; she and my
other baby went away week ago and
more, and lwant them to come home
You looked like her when | first saw
you but your eyes are not so bright,
nor your hair so fine. don't want to
trouble you any, but if you see my ba-
bies anywhere will you tell them that
their mother is at home waiting for
them? Their books are on the stand,
and their supper is growing cold; tell
them to come at once, for | know they
will catch cold. Thank you, dear, |
know you will not break a poor moth
er's heart And, kissing the surprised
child, she went on as earnest as ever in
her fruitless search.
When the City of Columbus disaster
occurred she appeared deeply affected,
and followed the newspaper accounts
OF its horrors with an interest that
seemed strange for person who had
no friends among the passengers or
crew. In addition to her usual peram-
bulation of streets and daily visits to
the cemetery she called at all the I'M
dertakers' rooms and at the morgue on
Grove street, asking if they had found
the body of her husband,
81 know he is dead she would say,
'but | want to see his face and know
that he has a decent burial. If my ba-
6ies only knew that theirpapa was dead,
they would come home and comfort
their poor mother and never run away
again
1t was after the disaster that she be-
gan to buy three floral offerings and
take them to Forest Hills instead of the
two she had been wont to carry, and,
although she never gave any eXplana-
ton for her conduct, everybody knew