Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-06-21

after. I had consulted the doctor Of our
ship with reference to the case and had
great difficulty in preventing him from
visiting the patient himself In fact he did
once, believe, but was SO roughly met by
the surly old man as never again to attempt
it. But he gave me medicines and much
good advice. So, over the woody hills each
day tramped to the little wretched cottage
in the valley. And was glad to see the
happy look of recognition in the CLASSY
eyes, or the wave of the weak, bony hand
above the coarse sheet about him. That he
was fading, day by day, saw; that death
was but waiting, hour by hour, to knock
upon the lonely door, knew full well
But In my heart there grew for him-this
man so utterly outside my world-a real
and tender affection.
His Mind Perfect Blank.
Yet, In our daily, quiet talks, and we
had these always at our meetings, I never
met nor wish to meet again, mind so abso-
lutely blank, so devoid of the slightest
knowledge or conception of other men; the
history of his own or any other age, or the
triumphs of art, science, war, astronomy or
religion. 1t was as if babe had sprung to
sudden maturity and been thrown into the
society of mankind, long used to all the
benefits of years of education and civiliza-
ton. used to recall often the story of the
child born in a French prison, who was
reared in solitude and darkness for 20 years;
this was even worse perhaps than the case
of my strange dying friend. For at least
the latter knew language when he heard it;
knew color when he saw it, knew the trees
the rocks, the animal life about him; but of
the causes for, the reasons why, nothing.
Sometimes when was deep in the rela-
tion of some great historical event; some
wonderful discovery; some astounding in
vention, he would turn his pale face to me,
and half whisper to me in placid way some
simple, childlike question, that all my phil
osophy could not answer. 1t was as if one
who had never seen fire, had asked of an
other who had seen it-and in all the
majesty of some roaring confagration-
"What is fre?" "What does it look hke?"
Day by day he grew weaker, and both his
father and myself knew the end was nigh.
Little by little changed the topic of our
talks from earthly things to those beyond.
But I saw that too, was even more utterly
blank and incomprehensible than the for
mer. He listened gently, with often faint
smile upon his lips-but, alas, adark void, I
knew, in his soul
Begged to See the Ocean.
And I could almost see the struggle in his
mind within himself, always to lose itself in
the dull look of total ignorance. At last one
stormy morning we saw the end had come
indeed; and when softly entered, he
opened wide his eyes and family beckoned
me. I bent my head to his; he put his hot
lips to my ear and whispered: 81 would like
to see-the ocean-you have told me OF. ="
We made-his father and I-hastily
rude litter and carried him-the poor, worn
frame-up the mountain side and down to
where the great waves were breaking on the
beach. Dark and heavy clouds were fast
flying across the leaden sky-the rising gale
blew cold and wet in salty spray about us.
He did not mind, but lay quiet and still,
with half smile on his lips. Suddenly he
raised; be motioned tome and pointing with
his lean and weakened arm seaward, gasped:
''Is that 1.-THE sea?"
"Yes-yes.
'I understand now-it is God"
And with these whispered words the soul
of the child-man came into the presence of
its Giver. MASON W. SHUFELDT,
Lieutenant q. S. N.