The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1884-01-20
SHADOWS.

1t was twilight. The red ffasbes
thrown on the window-panes nv The
setting sun had slowly faded out and
given place to the first soft shadows
OF night, which bring the cricket from
its hiding place and send the bee and
the butterfly to sleep. There was a
feeling OF rest in the room-a feeling
|of quiet contentment and perfect sa 3.
isiaotion. The hum from other rooms
lulled instead of annoyed; the voices
of children on the street seemed far
away and had touch of pathos.
The old man lay at perfect ease.
His eyes rested on the wall at the
foot OF the bed-his thin, wrinkled
hands were folded one over the other
there was no pain to deepen the
lines on his kindly face. He had seen
the sun go down, and he listened for
the voice of the cricket and the call of
the whlp-poor-will.
What was that?
A shadow suddenly fitted across
the wall In front of bis eyes. Now
another and another. Now the first
shadow fits back to head process
sion. Passing from right to left the
procession mo7es-a procession of
queer shadows. They take on queer
faces as they move along, and the old
mans heart beats faster as each face
comes before him. Here are the
frien1s OF his youth-faces which
grew white in death so long ago that
he had forgotten them. This one was
child-thss a youth-that a fair
young girl when be stood by aud saw
the earth cover them. They smile at
him and his heart grows younger.
One procession ends and another
begins. These are the faces of men
and women stricken down in the
MONDAY OF life. Some of them had
shared lis hopes and sympathized
with his sorroWs-all had been his
friends. The sea, the lake and the
forest save their dead to the process
sion of shadows, and each face was
recognized and remembered. The
procession moves On and on. He is
shocked TO realizs that so many OF
his friends fell in the battle of life
while he was spared to grow old and
rest in peace.
Now comes the third procession.
There is his father, old and bent and
feeble; mother with wrinkled, pa
tent face; brothers in youth and mid
die age; sisters who wept with him
over some of the graves. Every face
looks as it did in life; every eye meets
him with glad lock of recognition.
The shadows wsye their hands aud
move on, and the old mans heart
grows childish and big.
There is another procession. The
first shadow is that OF a loved wife,
Who died while the snow-white locks
lad scarcely turned gray. Then came
he chIldren-sons and daughters
i've in all. One by one they had
,rown weary and rested by the way.
ide, leaving husband and father to
'ursue the journey alone. The pro-
session hsults, and every shadow
lolds out its hands to the poor old |
nan as if in supplication. His heart
wells-tears fill his eyes, and he cries
a. to them:
II see you ALL am comingp'
Back with your light But il is too
tie. The glare OF the lamp filings the
Wight out of the room with hasty
q nd, and the shadows which crept
long the wall are gone forever. No
ne saw them but the old man, and
ct there is proof of their presence.
Lis poor hands are outstretched-on |
is white cheeks are tears-on bis
rinkled fsce smile of Joy and glad
PES.
His spirit has joined the shadows!
Nj OniD