The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1891-12-19
()W NJ RGIE DIED.
athetic Incident Of Railway
Travellers Journey.

4 Honeiy Story from the Daily Life
ss@s Of Homely People-The Mis-
takes of Life of Toll
and Drudgery.
The train was half a hundred miles
but Of Chicago, headed for the city, and
1t little station an old farmer came
aboard. He was little. weakened
man, with sensitive mouth half con-
tealed by an iron5gray beard. His ILL
Citing clothes were evidently his most
uncomfortable best and he moved awk-
wardly and stiffly in them. There were
40 vacant seats. says the Chicago Mail,
md after some hesitation he slid softly
INTO one occupied by a grave stranger,
intent upon his paper. The old man
was i'll at ease and as he turned care
worn, haggard face toward the brown,
flying landscape it showed marks of
some recent trouble. The stranger
laid aside his paper after awhile and
half wistfully the old man glanced at
him. He spoke at last, with strange
huskiness. 'l'm goin' to the city for
half startled at his own voice.
''Yes?" and in the intonation Of the
others there was an invitation to go on.
1.-THE second time, F" repeated the old
man; thirty year ago, come June. l
went there for weddin' suit, and I'm
a-goin' back there to-day for a coffin
ind a sllroud for-the little woman that
married me-"
His voice broke, and turning again
to the window he looked out upon the
dull, cold landscape and was silent
many minutes.
ssYou don't know what it is, mister;
you can't understand, and he was cry
ing very softly and hopelessly- 'You
don't know what it is to live and work
longside of a woman for thirty years.
day in and day out, to find her always
patient and willin' and workin'-and
then leave her a~layin' dead and cold
breast. You don't have no idee what it
u.s." and the sleeve of the old man was
drawn apologetically across his eyes
GIVE ben thinlSin' good deal since
last night when Margie died; it kinder
puts man to his thoughts. It was just
little after the turn o. the night, and
nobody but me was watchin', when she
kinder woke up, like, as if she'd ben
asleep
"'David, says she, it's restful-so
restful' and took hold of her hand;
SIS that you a-singin', David?' says she.
Go on, but hadn't sung word and
couldn't a done it-'go on, David, says
she, and I'll be restin', for I'm so tired.
And so she went to sleep again and
walked up in eternity.
land do you know, stranger, them
words o. hertz have set me to tfinkin'.
Poor, tired soul! and I never thought
how much she needed rest. I thought
as I set there, watc!lin' her breath
a-goin' out last night, that nlebbe we'd
make q mistake of it all. We never
thought of it while we was a-workin'
and a~slsinpin' and a-savin'--tryin' to
make both ends meet aud to lay up
somethin' for the children. But
thought about it all last night when
only me and her was waitin' for the
last, She never had no pleasure. She
never took no holidays nor visited like
other winamiu. She raised the chill
dren and stopped pigs and MIXED cows
and churned and cooked for harvest
hands. | never 1uowed nor thought
how she done it all till saw them poor,
crossed hands with little white posies
in 'em. Some 'un Q the neighbors put
'en there, and it kinder chohed me
when looked l<nowed she'd never
had no time for posies when she might
have s,nelied 'en. She didn't have
time for nothin' but the thorns, mister,
and--that's what hurts ne" '
After moment he looked up through
his tears.
''Some folks may low it won't do no
good. mister" and his voice grew
stronger; but I'm a-goin' to see that
she's put away in somethin' rich We
wasn't slx?lnpin' and savin' thirty year
for this, but I'm s-goin' to have the
best money'n buy. She's earned it.,
God knows; and she's earned somethin'
else-she's earned that white rai1nent
that the good book says is washed in
the blood of the Lamb
The old mans voice sunk into that
reverent whisper SO common to the Cod
fearing Of his class at the utterance of
holy things, and in the silence which
followed he sunk into a reverie. He
was awakened from it only by the
stopping of the train at Van Buren,
street At the door of the car he shook
hands with his companion and mo-
ment later was swallowed up in the
crowd.
It was pitiful-all Of it. And yet
there was d passenger on that train who
is the better man for recalling it; the
better man for the recollection Of the
old farmers look and gesture, and for
the thought that there are silver handles
to the coffin that holds his sacred dust,
living out under dark mound amid the
barren brown Of an Illinois prairie.
He Wanted to Say Good-By.
During the reign of Frederick the
Great one of the singers of the Berlin
opera left clandestinely, in order to re-
turn to Italy. The king Immediately
rave orders to pursue her. and she was