Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1890-07-03
FANCIED HIMSELF A CHILD.
His Dying Moments Dream of Chua-
hoods Happy Days

The doctors said it was no unusnsl
thing in delirium, but it seemed Stranra
and pathetic to the loving watchers FIAT
the middle aged care-worn man toSsin,
YEARLY on a sick bed, should fancy him,
self again a child at his mothers knee
The grave far away in a country VILLAGE
where she slept had no existence as far a.
he was concerned She had never died
but was with her boy again. The many
trials of life that had worn those deem
lines in his face had passed from M,
memory, now, and boyish woes and con,
fidence alone were on his lips.
When his weeping wife laid her hand
upon his fevered brow he looked up and
smiled and called her mother. The
hand that held the medicine to his lips
that smoothed the pillow, was mother "
and in all the faces that came and went
about his bed he saw but hers which had
been the first his baby eyes had known.
and over which the dews and SHOWS Of
twenty years had lain
He had forgotten her. oh, so many
years He mad been too busy to yearn 10
lean his tired head upon that faithful ten
der breast, and a thousand transient
worldly things had clouded the image Of
that kind mother but as deaths mighty
hand set aside those perplexing, fretting
distractions, all so little now, clear and
sweet to his parched soul came the memory
Of an innocent childhood and a mothers
love, and all at once he knew himself a
weary, tumbled creature. sick and faint
over earth's feyered, muddy draught, and
he went back, like il little child, to her
whose tenderness had never failed him. to
drink once more Of that pure, cleansing
stream.
Your little boy is tired, mother The
sun is very hot.
His children broke into sobs as he spoke
but his fatherhood was a thing unknown
to him now.
May wear the new boots to-day
mother? Please You said that ! should
] m not a girl. as the fellows said was
any more. for you've cut my hateful curs
I'm most q man now mother, and when
i'm big II give you heaps and heaps of
things; red silk dress like Cousin Mary
and hat with feather lots and lots
longer than hers, most rs long as nay own
maybe.
I'm sleepy and want to go to bed I've
been bad boy some to-day am { l: but
III ask God to forgive me, and if you do,
guess he will. too Hear my prayers,
mother. I've learned them quite by heart
now.
They saw that the end was close at hand
then. and his wife made a frantic appeal
to him to recognize her, but his ears
were fast duIling to all earthly sounds,
and he only struggled to raise himself to
his knees. They could have restrained
him. but he said:
why, can't go to sleep without say
ing my prayers. I've been a bad boy to-
day, and God would be angry mother.
Then they helped him up, and with
tender arms supported the weakened form,
while he knelt with upturned eyes fast dim
ming with deaths film. and clasping his
hands as a little child does by its crib side,
prayed the sweet petition of:
Now lay me down to sleep,
And pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep,
And if die before ! wake,
pray Thee Lord, my soul to take.
And which among us dare to say the
lisping. childish prayer had not the
power divine to wash away the dust ana
sin that are this sad old world S dark
heritage.
WrrTrA TJoYD JACK son.