The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1890-10-24
AT REST.

In an exchange we find the followingex-
tract from a private letter written by Mr..
Robert Burdette( the celebrated homorist Of
the Burlington Hawkeye), describing the
death of his much-loved invalid wife:
The gray light of early morning was
creeping in through the open window, and
on her patient face, glorifed By suffering,
was shining another, fairer light, that l
know was streaming from celestial portals
opening for her. She smiled sweetly as l
crossed the room and stopped to kiss her,
and said:
Rob, dear, it is
The chill before the dawning
Between the night and morning.
1t was the hour at which she had ex-
pressed a wish that she might pass away,
and knew that she referred to a fayorite
verse of a poem that she loved. | said:
Yes, dear, l think the sun will come
very soon now"
Her face grew radiant as she smiled and
said:
Eyes, He will come for me this morn
ing"
Dora was quickly at her side, and we
knew there were watchers whom we could
not see standing in the room. She who
was SO nearly past all suffering was SOL
icitous only for our comfort and in quiet,
loving tones gave me some little instruct
ions: "You must keep WE'LL" she said;
"for Robbie's sake you must keep well
and strong"
The nurse entered the oom, but Carrie
could take neither nourishment Dor med
icine II want nothing" she said. Her
breathing became more laborious. The
doctor arrived, but she could not swallow
the medicine, and he held her hand. bade
her goodbye and went away, promising TO
come in again during the morning. About
six o'clock Robbie came into the room to
kiss his ''little mamma, and stood close
by her side.
There was no fear, no dread in all the
scene. She could speak only in short,
broken sentences. As repeated the beau
tiful promises to her, how her face kindled
as she smiled on us, turning her dear face
from one to the other. Even as she entered
the river, she said ''the sun is shining on
it" She did not shrink. The waters
were not SO cold or SO bitter. Sac had no
fear, for she relied on the strong right arm
of the Righteous.
Moved by a sudden impulse, about half an
lou before she passed away, Robbie
rushed to her side, threw his arms about
her, and, holding her close. kissed her.
She kissed her boy and tenderIy said:
God bless my baby"
Is was her last blessing on earth.
Lore" she said in broken accents, checked
by her troubled breathing, into Thy
hands commend my spirit" Still she
looked at us, smiling, until a few minutes
before the end. She asked for a drink of
orangeade but could o swallow. Even
So, she whispered come quickly, Lord
Jesus Her head fell back in my arms.
Like a flash of sunlight the bright white
light" swept across her face, carrying away
every line and mark of pain, every stain
and cloud of disease; her face turned up
ward and her eyes grew strangely radiant.
Mother" she called joyously, as a tired
child s%pringing into a mothers arms
Mother, mother,'' and she was folded in
the arms of the angel who passed away
when she was a child. Her face was white
as the starlight, her radiant eyes were not
dimmed when we closed them, and for the
first time in many years she slept without
pain.
Velvet moses cover the little mound
where she sleeps, and graceful ferns fringe
1t around. She rests in the beautiful
c~hufch-yard of quaint, old fashioned, Lower
Marion Church. 1t is her " wish, made
nearly or quite a year ago.
| think the angels must ave been glad
to see her come. So many of them had
ministered unto her, and strengthened her
in her pilgrimage of suffering that | know
they -ejoiced when she came to be with
them. There was never so brave, SO pa
tient a life among men; there could be no
Drawer even among women.