Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1889-11-15

the sadder for their simplicity lie added
few lines with stcndy hands, and a. !
sealed it, said with patient sort Of sigh
81 hope the answer will come in time for
me to see it e. then, turning away his face,
laid the flowers against his lips as il 10
hide some quiver Of emotion at the thought
Of such sudden sunderiug of all the dear
home ties.
These things had happened two days he.
fore now John was dying, and the letter
had not come. ! had been summoned to
many death beds in my life but to- none
that made my heart ache as it did then,
since my mother called me to watch the
departure Of a spirit akin TO this in its gen
tleness and patient strength. As | went
in John stretched out both hands
81 knew you'd come guess I'm mov-
ing on, ma'a
He was, and so rapidly, that even while
he spoke, over his face ! saw the gray veil
falling that no human hand can lift | sat
down by him, wiped the drops from his
forehead, stirred the air about him with
the slow wave Of fan, and waited to help
him die. He stood in some need Of help
and could do 50 little for as the doctor
had foretold, the strong body had rehelled
against death, and fought every inch Of
the way, forcing him to draw breath with
a spasm, and clench his hands with an i'm
ploriug look as if he asked, GLOW long
must | endure this and be still ~ For
hours he suffered dumbly, without mo-
ment's respite, or moments murmuriug
his limbs grew cold. his face damp, his lips
white, and again and again he tore the GOV
ering off his breast, as if the lightest weight
added to his agony yet, through 1t ALL his
eyes never lost their perfect serenity, and
the mans soul seemed TO sit therein, un-
daunted by the ills that vexed his flesh.
One 10y one the men awoke and round
the room appeared a circle of pale faces
and watchful eyes, full of awe and pity,
for though stranger John was beloved 10y
all Each man there had wondered at his
patience, respected his piety admired his
fortitude, and now lamented his hard death;
for the influence of an upright nature had
made itself felt even in one little week.
Presently the Jonathan, who so loved this
| cOmely David, came creeping from his bed
for a last look and word The kind soul
was full of trouble, and the choke in his
voice, the grasp Of his hand betrayed him
but there were no tears, and the farewell
of the friends was the more touching for
its brevity.
"Old boy, how are you Z" faltered the
one.
"Most through, thank Heaven !" whis-
pered the other.
'Can say or do anything for you, any
where's y
Take my things home, and tell them
that did my best
II will will ~
Goodbye Ned"
Good bye John. good hye ="
They kissed each other, tenderly as wom-
en- and 50 parted, for poor Ned could not
stay to see his comrade die.
For little while there was no sound in
the room but the drip of water from
stump or two, and Johns distressed gasp
as he slowly breathed his life away |
thought him nearly gone, and had Just laid
down the fan, believing its help no longer
needed when suddenly he rose up in his
bed, and cried out with bitter cry that
broke the silence, sharply startling every
one with its agonized appeal
! For Gods sake, give me air ~
1t was the only cry pain or death had
wrung from him, the only boon he had
asked, and none of us could grant it, for
all the airs that blew were useless now.
/ Dan flung up the window. The first red of
dawn was warming the gray east, her
/ aid of the coming sun. John saw it. and
with the love of light which fingers in us
to the end seemed to read in it sign of
| hope of help, for over his hole face there
broke that mysterious expression, brighter
than any smile which often comes to the
eyes that look their last He laid himself
gently down, and stretching out his strong
right arm as if to grasp and bring the
blessed air to his lips i'll fuller flow, lapsed
into merciful Inconsistencies, which as
sured us that for him suffering was forev
er past. He died then for though the
heavy breaths still tore their way up for a
little longer, they were but the waves of
an ebbing tide that beat unfelt against the
wreck which an immortal voyager had de
serted with a smile. He never spoke again,
but to the end held my hand close--so close
that when he was asleep at last could not
draw it away. Dan helped me, warning
me as he did so that it was unsafe for dead
and living flesh to lie SO long together but
though my hand was strangely cold and
still, and four white marks remained across
its back even when warmth and color had
returned elsewhere, | could not but he glad
that, through its touch, the presence of hu-
man sympathy, perhaps, had ightened that
hard hour
When they had made him ready for the
grave, John lay in state for half an hour,
a thing which seldom happened in that
busy place But universal sentiment of
reverence and respect seemed to fill the
hearts of all who had known or heard of
him, and when the rumor of his death went
through the house, always astir many
came to see him, and felt a tender sort of
pride in my lost patient for he looked a
most heroic figure, lying there stately and
still as the statue Of some young knight
asleep upon his tomb. The lovely expires
sion which so often beauties dead faces,
soon replaced the marks of pain and
longed for those who loved him best to see
him when half an hours acquaintance with
death had made them friends.
. As we stood looking at him, the ward
master handed me letter, saying it had
, been forgotten the night before. 1t was
john letter, come just one hour too late
to gladden. the eyes that had longed and
looked for it so eagerly. But he had it, fol
, after had cut some brown locks for his
. mother, and taken off the ring to send her
telling how well the talsman had done
its work, kissed this good son for heI
sake, and laid the letter in his hand, still
folded as when | drew my own away, feel
ing that its place was there, and making
I myself happy with the thought that ever
{ in his solitary grave in the government
lot, he would not he without some toker
of the love which makes life beautiful an,
outlives death Then | left him, glad t,
have known so genuine man, and carry
ing with me an enduring memory of til,
e brave Virginia blacksmith, as he lay serene
+ ly waiting for the dawn of that long da!