The southern sentinel. (Winnfield, La.) 1883-1910, 1885-01-16
WALTER GRAY'S SIXTH SENSE.

Noticing few days ago paragraph in an
English newspaper regarding the visitation OF
the Duke of Albany shortly before his death.
by the apparition of his deceased sister. was
reminded of a story told me one November
day, several years since, by a well known puo-
lie man of similar experience during his boy
hood. His statement has been verified by din-
erent members of his family, and a number of
other persons now living have confirmed the
occurrences of this narrative.l
1t was in a large, old-fash'oned stone
house in the suburbs of the city of Buff
faIo, standing far back from the street,
from which it was approached through
an iron gate and MP a broad, graveled
walk winding along under the dense
foliage of great trees, until, just as one
began to think there was never to be
an end, the path turned sharply to the
LETT, and there, literally buried under
vines and clambeiing roses, stood the
house. where, one lovely June day in
1S43, when the roses were in full
bloom. Walter Gray first opened his
ewes to the light of his mothers smile.
His father was handsome, courtly
man of the world, engaged in extensive
business enterprises, which kept him
much of the time away from home.
Thus it was, as Walter grew older and
began to look upon the world with
questioning eyes, that it was to his
mother that he turned in every per-
p.exity, sure to find comprehensive an
swers to every problem as presented.
There were brothers and sisters, large
family of active, energetic minds and
wills TO tram, shape and govern Up
on the mother, therefore, devolved
most of this loving duty carefully
and conscientiously performed. Often
in later years has the subject OF this
sketch spoken to me of that mother
of her patience, her gentle but firm
management From his birth an I'M
common tie existed between them.
His father exacted obedience to the let
ter of the law-the mother tempered
the rule with fine sense of justice and
comprehension OF the understanding of
her children. Little Walter, when six
years old. was the living image of 3
picture which | have seen of Lord
byron taken about that are. Short,
dark curis clustered in masses over his
finely-shaped head; brown eyes that
seemed to look clear through one, in
stantlv detecting the faintest shade of
watering or hesitancy in the replies he
constantly demanded to his eager cues
tons upon every subje questions
that, seemingly, one was always the
least prepa ed to answer. The word
fear. apparently, he had never heard.
and was totally unconscious Of its ex-
listen e.
During his frequent visits to the
country, TO the farm of an uncle-a
fayorite brother of his mother 's-which
was only few miles from the city. he
climbed the b CHEST trees, rode without
saddle or bride the widest and most
unmanageable of the horses, whipped
all the boys anywhere near his age that
encroached on his rights. and tanned
all the snakes that could be found on
the farm, bringing home sometimes
two or three at q time for his mother
to admire. with as much apparent en-
joyment to the snakes as 60 himself.
Not wild bird whose call he could not
initiate, often inducing the shyest TO
come closely about him, even alighting
on his hands. In his studies he was al
WAYS far ahead of b class, and vet one
wondered when he got his lessons.
Masterful, dominating, leader in every
enterprise which did not tres pass on
another's right-for there his quick
sense Of justice and careful home
training was most apparent-yet
at word of request or disapproval
from his mother his dearest enterprise
was abandoned, no matter how great
the sacrifice. She was his queen-his
idol. All his treasures were brought
triumphantly home to lay at her feet.
The rarest wild-flowers, the greenest
moses, the reddest apple, the largest
snakes, or the oldest pebbles that he
could ind, were carried to her for adj
miration and acceptance. His eyes
followed her about with that tender
watchfulness and protecting care more
like lover than . child.
1t was June again-that eventful
month to him-six years that he had
known = mothers care and love. She
had not bean we'll for weeks, and little
Walter with tender solicitudc had hung
about her chair and bedside. grieved at
sight Of her pale face. eager to antici-
pate every want. O-lats the children
had not been allowed to see her but
once Z day, and now, rs he stood by
her. Stroking the long fair HAIR that fell
over the pillow. reaching nearly to the
floor, she drew him closely TO her side,
and kissing him tenderly, said:
MY darling. the doctor saws that I
will get well much faster If have per-
feet quiet in the house. Your father
has sent for Uncle Charles to come for
you all, and take you to the farm.
Promise me that Won will be good
boy-kind and Q6edient to all, and
wait patiently untifmamma sends for
you.
IF only he might stay with her, and
let the others e" he said.
mo. dear the doctor knows best.''
So b gave the desired promise, try
ing manfully to keep back the tea 8
t at trembled in his pleading ewes.
Clasping his little arms around her,
kissing her hair. her eyes, her cheeks,
her lips. until his grief mastered HIM:
then. burying his face in her bosom. he
sobbed aloud. Some one exclaimed.
She has fainted!''
They Lifted him quickly and took him
lway. Two weeks passed by 1t the
z