Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1890-12-20

Il
almost catch the gentle tones with which
/ knew she would address me, were she
present now.
| Courage, my child; and remember
that mothers prayers are always with
you, and that He who cares for the spar
row will also watch over you and give
you strength for the battle of life. 1t
is hard, know"
"Can you write letter, Miss?"
The bridge and its great panorama had
| long since vanished from my physical
! senses; tho village home swiftly fol-
lowed now. l came out of my dream
| life with painful shock which left me
for moment speechless. looked at
the man dumfounded. He seemed what,
in my limited experience, Western
miner ought to look like. A broad
brimmed slouch hat, coarse trousers in
| side of heavy boots and a Eur coat gave
him the appearance of grizzly bear,
such as l had seen pictured In my
| school books. His face, however, was
kind, pleasant, and wore respectful
expression. He was a man probably
not more than thirty-fve years of age
"Can / write letter?' interrogated,
mechanically, still gazing at him
blanlsly.
That's about the size OF 4. Miss" he
assented, with slight relaxation of his
sad look. "You see, Miss, Two just
come on from Leadville, where I've been
for about ten years. I've made lots of
money out there in the mines and I've
come back to settle down. I've got to
stay in the city for week or two on
some business, and so thought I'd just
get some one to write letter for me to
my old mother"
"I'll write your letter." I said
promptly. The ''old mother had
settled tho matter with me.
But" said l, thoughtlessly, "why do
not you write it yourself? Your mother,
1 am sure, would value it more If writ
ten by you"
Guess l couldn't do it, Miss" he
said, with panied look "I'm learn
ing to write, but I'm afraid the old
mother couldn't read my writing now."
He had picked up my pencil, and was
scribbling on a piece of paper. Gould
you read that?" he asked, handing it to
me.
that was all could make out.
you used your left hand" said L;
''why do not you learn to write with
your right, instead?" Thoughtlessly
the question was put. and it produced a
deeper pain on his face.
"Oh! l know how to write with that. {"
said he, hesitatingly.
noticed his increasing perplexity,
and also the fact that he did not with
draw his right arm from his coat
pocket.
Then why do you not use that hand?"
urged, still blunderingly.
"Well, Miss you see left that hand
out in Leadvillo. An explosion took it
off"
He had put the pencil down, and
looked quite discouraged at his efforts.
l longed to make amends for the pain
had thoughtlessly occasioned; so went
to the little typewriter, saying: Il will
write your letter on this"
But what is that?" he asked, with a
puzzled look, laying his hand on the
machine.
explained by showing him sheet
of the typewriting. He looked it over
quizzically and handed it back to me
with negative shake of the head say
ing: Not any for me, Miss. The poor
old mother wouldn't like it. She'd
think it was newspaper work. l want
her to have real, genuine, hand-writ
letter; something moro sociable like,
you know"
l hesitated for an instant. l was
nd To tln
office. OF course l could write his letter
with pen and ink; but it was only ques-
tion whether 1 should humor him or
not / decided in his favor. l mad been
musing l had long-absent friend
also, out in the Western country some
where. He had left mother-and me
years ago. We were very dear to each
other once, but a light cloud separated
us; and yet loved him still. Perhaps
we might yet meet under moro joyous
circums tarces. Who knows?
The stranger noticed my hesitation,
momentary though it was, and ven
tured: Mother would be SO pleased to
have"
"Yes, of course" l interrupted, fully
decided. / seized pen, and, placing a
SnccJ VI paper DclOfe lnS, odlu WGo
all ready to proceed.
II want it to go something like this"
he began, thoughtfully: Dear old
mother
81 want it writ kind and tender like;
just like I'd talk to her if she was
here"
Yes" I assented, holding my pen
poised.
But to tell it all to stranger"
YES, l understand; but how can
write it for you unless you do?" urged.
Then l added: "You can speak freely to
me. 1 have mother, too; good way
from here, and can imagine l am writ
ing to her."
That's so," he replied, Frightening,
while something almost like a blush
overspread his bronzed face.
Then I'll go ahead. Say to her:
Your boy who left you ten years ago,
on whose head you laid your dear hand
and gave your parting blessing, and
told him IN ramnn hpr unu "a lwnva and