The morning call., 1890-10-26
WILLIE'S GRAVE,
The Saddest Blow in the Journeys Long


The Saddest Blow in the Journeys Long
Record.
A timid knock at the half-Open parsonage
door, followed by the impulsiye entrance of
a thin and faded woman clad in the coarsest
of clothing, called my attention from the
Sundays sermon. The little prairie con-
gregation out on the frontier of Kansas,
where l was stationed, would not notice if
tie address was not absolutely perfect
could afford to leave it.
BE you the preacher ?" half gasped my
visitor. " l am in a hurry, or l wouldn't
a-come in so haSty Ike
I" | am. What can DO for you?
ITS tn little one as is dead, an we
thought, Joe an l, AS how maybe you'd say
few words over tn chi!der's grave. The
others didn't have no chance, but this is the
last" and hard, dry Sub broke into her
voice.
Certainly; where do you live ?" l was
already searching for my hat, influenced
more than | cared to acknowledge by the
woman's evident distress.
We're camping she faltered. THE
wagons out by the graveyard. 1t amt far"
She told me little as she went along. Her
heart was too full for words, and the face
grew more and more detected as we ap-
preached the white covered emigrant wagon
that stoud amid the stretching acres Of green
like some rude ship at anchor.
1t was simple scene. Assisted by the
father, we took the little wooden box to
the cemetery a few rods away, and lowered
it into the earth beside the other forms
awaiting the resurrection. Then back to
the WAGON.
We're so glad you come" said the wom-
an, wistfully. II told yer, you know, that
twas tn last, an none of tn rest had any
preacher. 1t heZ been long Journey" she
went on thoUghtlully. 1.-The three little
ones was well when we started, an Joe
thought they would stand it.
How far have you Gomez" | asked.
From far past tn mountains, sir, way
inter Montana. We couldn't stand it there,
an we TN ught we'd go back ter tn old
folks; they wanted us"
And did the children die on the route ?"
''All of 'em. The baby went when he was
fur up in the mountains. We laid it in tn
rocks It'll be safest OF 'em all"
And the other?"
1.-The next left us in the mountains, too,
an was buried by Lake IvanhOe. There's a
sawmll there, an the men was good ter us
an helped us some. Willie as well all the
way till now, an we thought lie would stay
with u.s. But now he's gone 1t has been
long and a sad ride, mist ~
She was weeping, and in vain could
any fitting words Of sympathy be sum-
moned up.
Come, Mary" called the man, who had
hitched the team and taken his place in the
wagon, 1--WE must be a-srartin'."
She looked up in startled manner, ana
then mechanically climbed into the rear end
of the vehicle.
you see we hev powerful ways ter 90
yit,' the man explained alphabetically !:
''th' old folks live way down in Kentucky,
an it's lot of drivin.''
'We are thankful ter you fer th' prayin'
over tn little one" added the wife. "lt'll
be pleasant thing ter think you was here.
An some times, if it amt too much trouble,
| wish yOu'n Jest jest-look at Willie
grave for IL"
Tie whip cracked, the tired team started
with its load, and the wagon, with its can
vas swelling and fiuttering in the breeze,
moved lumberingly off across the prairie.
Smaller and smaller it grew, until it was
mere speck on the eastern horizon, and then
1t aud its occupants had gone as completely
out Of my physical view as they had been
before that morning never again to be seen 9,
perhaps, by my eyes.
But the experience did not go out of nv
life. The sorrowing mother, the journeys
record, marked by three little graves, which
contained all the mother heart held most
dear, the charge left me, and the wan face
OF the stricken woman could not be forgot
ten. Whatever the after existence NAV
have been, whether prosperity smiled on
them or not at the journeys end, the
stranger must have recalled with a vivid
sadness, until death came to them, the rec
ord Of the long ride.-Detroit Free Press.