Connecticut western news., 1890-07-09
SHE HAS OUTLINED HER USE
 FULNESS.

Not long since, good Looking man, in middle life, came to our door asking for "the minister" When informed that he was out of town, he seemed dis appointed and anxious. On being ques- toned as to the business, he replied "I have lost my mother, and this place used to be her home, and my father lies here we have come to lay her beside him."
 Our hearts rose ill sympathy, and we said "You have met with great loss."
 Well-yes," replied the strong man, with hesitancy, "a mother IS great loss in general but our mother had outlived her usefulness she was in her second childhood. and her mind was grown as weak as her body, so she was no comfort to herself, and was burden to everybody. There were seven of us sons and daughters and as we could not find anybody who was willing to board her, we agreed to keep her among us year about. But I've had more than my share of her, for she was too feeble to be moved when my time was out and that was more than three months before her death. But then she was good mother in her day, and toil- cd very hard to bring us all up." Without looking at the face of the heartless man, we directed him to the house of neighboring pastor, and re- turned to our nursery. We gazed on the merry little faces which smiled or grew sad in imitation of ours-those little ones to whose ear no word in our language is half so sweet as Mother ," and we wondered if that day could ever come when they would say of us, She has outlived her usefulness is no comfort to herself, and burden to everybody else p and we hoped that before such day would dawn, we l might be taken to our rest. God forbid that we should outlive the love of our ! children. Rather let us die while our hearts are part of their own, that our grave may be watered with their tears, and our love linked with their hope of Heaven.
 When the bell tolled for the mothers burial, we went to the sanctuary to pay our only token of respect to the aged stranger; for we felt we could give her memory 8 tear, even though her own l children had none to shed.
 "She was good mother in her day, aud toiled hard to bring us all up-she 1 was no comfort to herself and burden to everybody else p These cruel, heart less words rang in our ears as we saw the coffin borne up the aisle. The bell tolled long and loud, until its iron tongue had chronicled the years of the toil-worn mother. One-two-three- four-fve. How clearly and almost merrily each stroke told of her once peaceful slumber on her mother 's
 bosom, and of her seat at nightfall on her weary fathers knees. Six-seven- t-nine-ten-rang out the tales of her sports upon the green sward, in the meadow, and by the brook. Eleven twelve thirteen = fourteen = fifteen = spoke more gravely of school days, and
 the little household joys and cares.
 Sixteen eighteen sound ed out the enraptured visions of maiden
 hood, and the dream of early love.
 Nineteen brought before us the happy
 bride. Twenty spoke of tho young l mother whose heart was full to bursting
 with the new strong love which God
 had awakened in her bosom. And then
 stroke after stroke told of her early
 womanhood-of the loves and cares aud
 hopes and fears and tolls through
 which she passed during these long
 years, till fifty rang out harsh and loud.
 From that to sixty each stroke told o1
 the warm-hearted mother and grand
 mother then, and the only strife wal
 who should secure the prize but hark
 the bell tolls on ! Seventy venty
 one-tw wo-three-four She begins t,
 grow feeble. requires some care, is no
 always perfectly patient or satisfied
 she goes from one child's house tt
 another, so that no one place seems lik,
 home. She murmurs in plaintive tones
 and after her toll and weariness, it Il
 hard she cannot be allowed home t,
 die ln that she must be sent, rathe
 than invited from house to house
 Eighty o-three-four-ah sh |. IS now second child-now "she La : outlived her usefulness, she has nov ceased to be comfort to herself o
 anybody ;" that Is, she has ceased to b l profitable to her earth-craving an, money getting children.
 Now sounds out, reverberatinx throug our, lovely forests, and echoing bac
 from our "hill of the dead"-eighty
 nine There she lies now in the cofiu cold and still-she makes no tronbl T now, demands no love, no soft word, I, i. tender little offices. A look of patieu
 endurance, we fancied also an expres r sion of grief for unrequited love, sat o 1 her marble features. Her children wer 7 there, clad in weeds of woe, and i T irony we remembered the strong man ! words, "She was good mother in he day."
 . When the bell ceased tolling, th s strange minister rose in the pulpit. H n form was very erect, and his voic j. strong, but his hair was silver whit, n He read several passages of Scriptu,