The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1892-01-16
HOW MARGIE DIED.
Pathetic Incident of a Railway
Traveler's Journey.
"A Homeiy Story from tho Daily r,s,
OF Homciy Pcoplc-The Mis-
takes or "a Llfo OF Toll
and Drullcnry

'NA' Neto ililI Il hundred miles
OUT OF chicago headed for the city, and
-. h.Cic station an old farmer came
ABOARD. lie was u little, weakened
man. with sensitive mouth half con-
ceaieo oy an iron-gray beard His ILL
ntting clothes were evidently his most
uncomfortable best and he moved awlz-
"aroly and stiffly in them. There were
no vacant seats, says the Chicago Mail,
ana after some hesitation he slid softly
INTO one occupied by grave stranger,
intent upon his paper. The old man
was Ill ut case and as he turned care
worn, haggard face toward the brown,
tying 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 ut last, with strange
huskiness. I'm goin' to the city for
the second time in my lifc," he said,
half startled at his own voice.
"Yes?" and in the information of the
others there was an invitation to go on.
Tho second time" repeated the old
man; thirty year ago, come June. I
went there for wcddin' suit, and I'm
a-goin' back there to-day for coffin
and a shroud 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.
You 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
iongside of woman for thirty years,
day in and day out, to find her always
patient and willin' and worllin'-and
then leave her a-layin' dead and cold
with her WORKOUT hands crossed on her
breast. You don't have no idcc what it
Isl" and the sleeve of the old man was
drawn apologetically across his eyes.
I've ben thinllin' n good deal since
last night when Margic died; it kinder
puts n man to his thoughts. 1t was Just
little aftesrSthc 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 rcstful-so
restful,' and took hold of her hand;
is that you a-sinTin David?' says she.
20 on, but hadn't sung word and
couldn't n 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
And do you know, stranger, them
words o hcr'n have set me to thinlsin'.
Poor. tired SOUL and I never thought
how much she needed rest thought
as ! set there, watchin' her breath
a-goin' out last night, that mcbbe we'd
make mistake of it all. We never
thought of it while we was a-worl1in'
and a-sllimpin' and a-savin'-tryin' to
make both ends meet and to Law uD
somethin' for the children. But I
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 wimmin. She raised the chill
dren and stopped pigs and MIXED cows
and churned and cooked for harvest
hands. never lSnowed nor thought
how she done it all till saw them poor,
crossed hands with little white posies
in 'em. Some I'm o. the neighbors put
'em there, and it kinder cholsed me
when looked. | l1nowed she'd never
had no time for poses when she might
have smelled 'cm. She didn't have
time for nothin' but the thorns, mister.
and-that's what hurts me-
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 skimpin' and savin thirty year
for this, but I'm a-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 raiment
that the good book says is washed in
the blood of the Lamb"
The old mans voice sunk into that
reverend whisper so common to the God
fearing of his class ut the utterance of
holy things, and in the silence which
followed he sunk into 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
1t was itiful-all of it. And vet.
there was a 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,
lying out under dark mound amid the
barren brown of an illinois prairie.
He Wanted to Say Good-By.
During the reign of Frederick the
IS -. Al. IL