The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-08-15
SHE WAS LIKE HIS MOTHER

S1J . %
 were greatly addicted to talking about
 their physlc2l ailments Those of us
 who were not complete wrecks were likely to become such from absorbing the sick.
 y thoughts of our neighbors. The few
 people of cheerful mind ln our hotel were
 heavily drawn upon by lhe gloomy bewail-
 CTS Mir Sseley was one of them. ChIl-
 dren and fools spoke of him as an old
 man. Nobody else did. He had lived
 eighty years, to be sure, and his hair was
 seAily snow white Beyond these two
 facts there was nothing 10 suggest age in
 his appearance or manners. IL Is decay, E not ,eais tha, makes any one old. You
 would as soon speak of the sun as aged # and feeble as to have called Mir Seeley
 old. His was spirit time could not ca
 croach upon. His brown eyes glowed # with ;he light of youth, his step was firm
 and graceful, his conversation bright and
 eDtertalulrg, and hIs interest 10 every
 thing strong. He sharpened lead pencils
 and made JaCoo's ladders for the chil- # dien with as much gracious interest as he
 talked philosophy and physics with the # lesrned.
 Yet, in spite of his sunny spirit, happy 5 and hopeful manner, we all knew tha,
 he vas very neaI tke end of life. And he < knew it, too. But he was never saddened x by t. His daughter, a young widow, 2 with a soft step and softer tongue, * watched him connr ually without ever
 seeming to watch him 1t soon became % eWoent to all of us that she feared the # dre.d messenger might come any hour \ 0lce she smihnEly watched him as he 5 WA.ked away with two companions, and
 when he was out et sight her courage gave way, and she sobbed out the an guish hltherto so srave!v corcealed. "l If 2 he could only live" she said. "I would z gladly die In his place" What hero ever S earned fonder tribute?
 Oae day Mir Seeley sat beside me on I the vice veranda ard looked far of over
 the biue-rimmed hills, as though he saw there the panorama of his past "Do you know" he said, turning suddenly to- ward me, :" can't realize that am old. And perhaps l am not. Perhaps am nearer my youth than any of you, because an nearer the grave. Death has long
 seemed on!y an event to nc, change ot residence, A. Il were; and life, as we call t, ike a chapter in a very big book, whose beginning is so far back that we carno; even guess at it, and whose end projects itself so far in the future that ina, nation fails to picture it.
 O"e of my most pleasurable thoughts IS ihal when open my eyes ID the world salch fesh and blood cannot inherit, saal, see my mother. never Sd her in tnls world. never even saw a picture of her. She died when was a year old, aad my father died three years later. They had come from EnslAnd to make the new world their home, and whatever relatives they had were lost sight of when ny father died. A chiidless couple adopted me and gave me all the love and cafe they could have given child Of their own. But have dreamed of my own mother all my life, and have loved her as few men lose their living mothers.
 have pictured her in imagination thousands of times. How have longed 10 see her. have three daughters, and have wondered over and over again if any of them looked Ike her. Don't think I'm donrg but have felt her pres ence often. She has never seemed lead to me-only concealed from my sight by the veil of materially which shades my eyes
 She must have been a good wom aa. Otherwise the tt ought of her would not be So sweet 10 me, TOT her invisible presence 50 holy. But how strange 1t will be for me, an old m2n-old n years at least to fad her still young. She must be young still, for age belongs to the body, not to he spirit He smiled with his benign eyes as he looked again far of over the blue hills in.o the vistas oi mem ory.
 Then he said again, almost as though he spoke for uo ear to hear him, If 1 that one l should have loved the best, l know 1 should, however unjust it would have been
 A few days later we missed Mir. Seeley ard his daughter one morning. They were not D the paIlors, nor on the veraa a ncr the broad, green grounds where tae hotel guests languidly promenaded and exchanged oophdences on the sub Iect of their maladies. Word went round that Mir. Seeley was confined to his bed. Two days later he appeared on the ve- randa, looking very pale, and walking, for him, somewhat feebly. To all kind inquiries for his health he answered ohesrily teat he was quite well again. his daughter evidently did not think so. She oha.ted pleasantly for few minutes, ard then walked to the end of the long veraAda, where she paced slowly back and forth, trying to control the anguish shich could not De driven from her white face and frightened gray eyes.
 Her father watched her till she was out of hearing, ard then said softly, " have seen my mother"
 looked up ~ith start of astonish ment. Wa his mind wandering! No; he brown eyes were as clear and kind as ever, the serene ia e as composed.
 "Yes, have seen her." he went on,
 not in a dream, not n imagination, but h fact. She came and spoke to me, and she IS young and very hke my Alice" He inclined his head ever so slightly to- ward the fair young woman who was car rying her sad heart back and forth so si. lenfIv IS SfranCe hut | have always