Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1888-12-22
high chair alongside of her and. finally.


while the rest Of us-me and the doctor
and the deacon-was jest fighting for
that baby's life. And, at last, when she
come to herself, there warnt nothin' but
dead baby to show her."
Dear, dear! did she take on mueh?" said
Fidelia, dropping her knitting in her lap.
Take on? Well, not like some folks. She
didn't screech nor cry, but she jest turned
awful white, and her eyes got big and
bad lookin'. 1t was enough TO ha'nt you
to see 'em-jest moaned and caught ahold
of the deacon's coat-sleeve as if she
needed something to comfort her. 1t did
seem s IL her heart was broke sure. She
never had no more children"
Il guess that's why they've been 90 set
Oh each other" unused Fidelia.
well, as to that, there amt no tellin'.
Some few folks are so-considerate and
feelin'-but mighty few. Most married
folk get tired of Hvin' together, or, at any
rate, they appear 50 at home. The deacon
and Mis- True they's been like they was
a-courtin' all these years. He's done all
the chores for her thai mortal man could
do, and she's been as sweet to him-well,
as sweet as one of them doves a-cooing
away out there on the barn.
"Harkl What's that2" said Fidelia,
holding up one hand warningly.
1t was only the sound of weak voice
above and deeper voice trying to answer
soothingly.
While the two women had talked the
afternoon waned. The rain seemed like
Installing tears. The flowers, some of
them, we're closing drowsily. The shad-
ows were deepening. The light-green
foliage of birch tree near the house
looked gray in the twilight. Through the
open chamber window above sounded the
ell twill nf 1irl faIx cd -,
his nest under the young leaves.
Culiously enough this tender note alone
had the power to rouse the dying woman.
She had always been in close sympathy
with ell fair, helpless things, flowers,
young birds and infants. Now, in her
extremity, this pierced to her heart and
woke her.
where's the baby?" she whispered.
"Vhy don't they bring the baby to me?"
She was living over again her only sick
ness. She fancied herself young once
more, young and filed with a strange
great happiness.
The years between had vanished. They
were happy years, too, happier than most
people enjoy, for her desires had been
easily gratified, her ambitions were of the
simplest kind. To live within their small
means; to lay aside little each year; to
keep the house immaculate and the flowers
thriving; to know peaceful nights and
quiet, uneventful days; to help neighbor
in trouble; to sit in the village church
regularly on Sundays, and to be sure that
the grass grew green and the white violets
fourished over certain small mound in
the graveyard; these were the utmost
limits of her hopes. Her ono great grief
had been tender memory, and all the days
since had been prosperous and serene!
,,n1,, dad h,,o l. l0N IL
Now, suddenly, she was young again.
q young wife in her new home, with all her
humble household treasures new about her
and this thrill of expectation in her breast.
where's the baby? Why don't they
bring the baby to me?" she repeated, eager
ly Her husband leaned forward, press
ing her hand in both of his.
"The baby?" he said; what baby?"
For him the sad present had swallowed
up the past
sour baby" she whispered, with look
of rapture in her faded eyes.
"Oh, Lois!"
He bent his head still lower. That
shadowy child of theirs seemed hardly
more than dream to him. He had never
held it or played with it, or talked to. it in
imagination, as she had.
His name is Josiah, for you, continued
the dying woman, trying to tighten her
clasp of the hand holding hers, and look
ing up earnestly at him.
"He will be little Jo Perhaps his eyes
are like yours: and he will be a good man
like you, hope. We will teach him to be
good, won't WEI"
Yes, yes, Lois.
But why don't they bring him to me?
I want so much to hold him. only once,
for little while. Iwant to feel his little
hand ON my face and kiss his little cheek.
Please tell them to bring him."
Hush, hush, Lois dear"
Perhaps they don't know where his
clothes are. l laid them all ready in the
top drawer of the bureau in the spare room,
his little blue socks, and his shirt, and the
white slip-they said he must wear slips
at first, not dresses. Everything's ready
A boy, you said. Oh, do let me hold him
now"
"Ah, you have brought him to me at
last" she cried with hands outstretched
Quick, give him to me here, close to- my
heart. Oh, how dear. how beautiful he
is. had not thought he would be half SO
beautiful"
She held her arms as if they encircled a
little form, and bent her face over them in
tenderest mother fashion.
MY baby! my baby!" she whispered;
| then, with a sigh of utter content, sank
back upon her pillows.
The women down stairs listened for the
sound of voices to begin again, expecting
to be summoned, but no such summons
! came.
Night and darkness fell in the garden
and closed about the house. Fidelia put
lamp outside the chamber door and shut
the door quietly. She glanced toward the
bed whore Mrs. True seemed to be asleep,
her husband, with his face buried in thu
pillow, near her. She left all the necessary
articles for the night and moved away with
noiseless step. The hours went on slowly
and silently. The stars sAone out in the
sky at last, while the flowers slept down in
the shadows, and the little bird was gently
rocked in its soft cradle. All was still in
the house where children's feet had never
battered up and down nor children s voices
| echoed.
When morning, calm and sunny, bright
ened the quiet room it showed the woman
! face glorifed with a smile of absolute
peace. Who knows? Perhaps, indeed,
her baby had been brought to her
Beside her, white and wan in the sun
shine. lay her faithful companion.
Whether hearts do break or not cannot
tell. Heaven at least had mercifully let
them die together quietly, as they lived
Grace Winthrop. in NeU York Ne,cs.
|
A rleid Tor Investigators.
1t was stated thirty years ago that an
ordinary battery would impart to per-