Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1890-12-18
70 THE DREos.
q MANpA I. caocKEn.

was dead. With
- -=one toil-worn hand
- = ~ thrown YEARLY
s~ssISA over her brown
kS hair, she lay prone
* <zl<4x on the poor COM
o s=<N-;s=n fortress cot; but
- she was weary no
more. She had toiled to the end Of
her hard row, and had come finally to
the resting place.
The shackles OF labor without recon-
pense had fallen off suddenly, and the
half-smile lingering on the thin. wasted
features told that, cropping IN the I'M
kind shadows, she had found at last
the light shining across the sea.
Death Is not always an undndness.
Sometimes the cold, quiet clasp but
cools fevered brain, and soothes a
soul longing for its undisturbed repose.
Thus 1t found the weary mother.
and it was we'll So they took him-e
tiny child-aw6y from. the arms, now
no longer shelter to his tender years.
He resisted vigorously, clinging to the
rigid hand, while he called Piteons-
~ for mamma "to wake up.r The
wan baby cheeks, and his long golden
he sobbed on the unanswering bosom.
Had she thought Of what might be-
come Of her boy? They looked about
the scantily furnished room for some
thing, they hardly knew what.
Yes; over there in the, corner, on
the table, lay scrap of paper with q
pencil by it. They took it up, and by
the light of the sulIen, gloomy morn
ing read the last wish of the dead
woman.
II have drank the cup Of rue to the
dregs,P she had written. "and although
the roses wreathed it's brim at first,
the thorns brist1ed thickly when the
petals dropped You will find money
IN the tabIe-drewer Tor my funeral ex-
penses; bury me decently. Please
find friend for Bennie-a home, if
possible-but friend at least. He is
four years old. His father, If sober,
you viii find at No. 10 Rum street.
You need not send for my husband,
however, until am under the sod, as
I do not care to have him near me even
in death. I have forgiven him, as far
as possible, all the misery and SORROW
he has brought on us-his wife and
child-but bury me before he comes.
I do not expect to live until morning;
my heart troubles me. To whoever
reads this and finds me, commend
Bonnie, poor, motherless Benniel
SADIE MATHERs.S
On searching the drawer the money
was found back in the corner in blue
china cup, and forthwith they set
about arranging for the unfortunate
woman's burial.
She evidently had seen better days.
In the drawer, besides the money, were
a heavy gold ring, a fine gold chain,
and an ebony work-box containing a
costly locket. On opening the 1ocket
the faces of young man and woman
looked up to the beholder, happy and
handsome. Between the miniatures
reposed note in a fine, delicate hand,
saying: ~Our pictures the day we
were married. At the back of each
you will find mementos of what was
once our beautiful home on the Hud-
son"
With trembling fingers the portraits
were removed; beneath one was a
lovely specimen of forget-me-not, and
the other rested on a rose, withered
and scentless, Of course, but sacred.
The pictures were replaced with a sigh
of sympathetic sorrow for the lovely
face in the locket, with its happy smile
and crown of curling hair. The face
on the wretched cot was the same, only
it had gone through the vale of sorrows,
bathing itself in tears until all the
beauty and vivacity had been washed
out
Then there was another face; not 9
bad face in the main. yet there 1urked
a sort of daredevilism in the eyes, and
an ly-to-go-to-the-bad expression
in the handsome face.
Their beautiful home on the Hud-
SON." And it had come to this? Lord
what adverse currents sweep us out of
time occasionally.
In spite of the admonition of the
note, it was thought best to send for
the husband. He could not grieve her
now. And, perhaps, it was only hui
name considsrateness, after all. to let
him know that Sadie" was dead.
He came. His face grew white and
he trembled when his eyes fell upon
the shrouded form of his wife, but he
went over and knelt down by her, Gov
ering his face with his hands.
@Oh, my God my punishment is
greater than can bear" he moaned.
ooh, Sadiel Sadiel if you only could
say you forgive me-if you only could;
but-neve< mind"
He got up, and strange. reso1ute
desperation swept over his countenance.
Where's Bonnie ?" he asked, in q
strained, husky voice.
with friends" he was answered.
Friends that will always keep-airn
and do well by him? ?" he asked anx-
iously.
Having been assured In the afir1na-
tive, he drew his hat down over his
eyes and went slowly out, shutting the
door after him carefully. At evening
he came back. have seen Bennie,9
he said, YEARLY, ~and that is all right.
Nov LAT ma xva{c1, Nth Sadie TV1,av,