The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1886-02-12
HIS MOTHERS PORTRAIT.

HIS MOTHERS I
1t was a gloomy, half-lighted attic
room in a tenement house, q room
where the smoke from the shoulder
ing fire curled in oddfantastic wreaths
in the angles OF the sloping ceiling, and
mice gnawed stealthily at the base
boards.
Not a pleasant place to die in, and
perhaps it was just as well that poor
Phoebe Wells, in her restless delirium,
fancied herself back once more among
the velvet grass and apple blossoms
OF the sweet-scented orchard at home.
Meanwhile a child of four years old,
with round face besmeared with dirt,
and his faxen curls tightly matted to-
gether with neglect, sat coiled up in a
window seat, playing with a headless
wooden horse and singing softly to
himself. For the afternoon sunshine
was warm on his face, and what did
little Charlie know OF death?
"Sure, it's wanderin' she isl said
one of the ONE who were sitting in
the room; "and enough to tire the pa
thence of the blessed saints themselves
sitting here. There's thebit of a letter
she hadn't strength to finish. What
shall we do with it?"
"Burn it," shortly returns a wrink-
led old hag, who was already busy in
turning over the slender store of linen
in the worn hair trunk to find some
thing fitting for a shroud; cts no use
to anybody now, and she can't spake
reasonable to us where it's to go. Yes,
yes, honey,I know" as Phoebe stretch
ed out her attenuated hands with a
wistful cry OF, "Charlie-my boy
you'll take Charlie home"
"Sure, an it's that we WILL" said
the old woman, chuckling. We've got
nothing else to do my fine lady, an
lots o. money to spare, excursioning
around the country! Lie still-that's
a dear!!"
But still she cried, "Charlie-Char-
lie!' and the younger woman lifted the
little creature. still ~clinping to his
wooden horse. on TO the bed. Charlie
opened his blue ives wonderinelv and
began to cry.
"Mamma, what makes you look so
stranger"
With a. shudderinp SIGH. his cheek
against hers. his tangled curls mingline
With her dishevelled black tresses.
ooh, nv baby, i can not 90 and
leave you.I can not! Il"
The death rattle in her throat infer
rupted all further attempts at speech.
There were one or two incoherent muir
murinp sounds-that was all-and so
poor Phoebe Wells died.
They took little Charlie away be-
wildered and terrified. and dispatched
some one for the ann1lner's coffin"
which was to enfold the moor crea.
t1,re's last remains.
"she's cot no friends.n said Mrs.
Dennis Dan, it,s b,,t fair afthe, ali
the trouble we've had. Nora Macartv.
We should div;de the little she's left ""
otis me ought to have the bits o.
clothes an, things said Nora Jealous
". "You never came a.nigh her till
thelast two days.n
"Well. am IFS no more than fair.
Nora dear" said the Irishwoman
smoothly: aan' Won poin, to he mar
ried in Youkaneth clothes.
an welcome, and IN have the bit Of a
bow: he's lust the child want for
hago;n, s;nce +he,, took moor l;+tlo
Barney O"Toole away. worse luck to
'em! Come along. child. an ston that
erwin. or it'U he the worse for vez
Did We want q. taste q, Mother Dennis
strap? Then hould yer noiseIn.
Charlie followed HIS ronoh nn;de
frightened into q trembling silence,
Poorlittle creature! Ia Was we'll that
he was not old enough to realize tha
terrible fate now opening before him.
"Yez wouldn't belay ,t' an him 30
yo,1nb.n said Mrs. Dennis nj.
"; "but he's the best litter in ali the
children! See there, Mike Dooley. two
hankechers an a snnff-box, let alone
the two apples from the peddler's
can't anti pa ae a,a 9 Give hin him 'a y d p mn y,
yer beer, Mike, an'ye shall have baked