The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1893-05-16
HOW l DIED.

that seemed years upon the rack of
such pain as only strong men, sud
denly broken upon the wheel, may
know. Every bone in my body, every
nerve, every minute gland or corporal
tissues had been like electric wires and
cells surcharged with ethereal agony.
At last there had come a benumbed
feeling that thrilled like the vibration
of harp strings suddenly stilled. I
could hear the hum of voices like the
far off drone of bees, and the sound
seemed soothing me into a strange
peace.
l was aware that somebody passed a
light before my eyes and after repeat
ing the action several times replaced
the night lamp on the stand without
the shade. I knew also that some
body stepped to the window and threw
it wide open, while a voice, seemingly
borne beyond the confines of space and
gathering force as it approached the
boundaries of auricular demonstration
until it doomed like the deep bass Of
the sea, uttered these words:
THE poor fellow is going fast. Give
his spirit a chance to free itgelf."
DO you believe in that old woman
rot?' asked another, and from the
region Of enchanted drowsiness where
I seemed to linger I caught myself
listening for the third voice, which 1
seemed to know would speak next
And | didn't listen in vain, for even
while l struggled with the unseen
forces that were hurrying me away a
woman's voice, clear and strong and
sweet as the notes of a bell that was
forever ringing in my ear, said:
I'VE believe in Gods mercy, and we
believe that this poor pain racked body
is about to throw open the door by
which the spirit goes free; if a closed
window hinder it's going, we will throw
every window in the old hospital as
wide as the sky"
"And give the rest of the poor devils
in the ward a chance to catch a mortal
Chill" responded the second voice.
'You are as consistent as the rest of
Your sex, Miss Brady"
While yet the echo of the head doc
or's voice beat the air in circles of
eceding sound, I suddenly ceased to
blink, to hear, to feel, to be. And yet
was. I knew by some newly de-
eloped sense that I lay mute and
White upon the cot which had sup
prted my body so long, and that the
fragrance of a prayer foated through
the awful stiffness of the room. 1t had
no form nor sound, and yet something
thing within me perceived it, as the
languid senses perceive the fragrance
of newly mown hay upon a serene
June morning.
A continuous pageant Of the most
seraphic vision unfurIed in endless
progression before me. I saw the
green hills of my childhood's home lift
themselves like emerald bubbles in a
haze of enchanted air. I saw the
sapphire of the sea set in a rim Of
violet dawns and doffodil noon. I saw
the stretch of desert sands like drifts
of snow within a compass of a lonely
land. And in the midst of their be
wildering vision suddenly sawa gleam
ing slab within a windowless room,
where something long and white and
still was lying. Drops of ice were
forming on the edges of the slab, anC
a death cold stream was purling across
it's shining surface. Something tina
was not a voice, and which made itsel
manifest to me through other channel
than the ear, spoke lightly Of the gravC
wherein I soon should lie.
1--WE will bury him to night" i
seemed to say, there will be no friend
to interfere, and there are too man,
dying these few days past to keel
'stiffs' over a half day"
But the law grants even a stiff it
rights" responded the womanly voic
I had learned to know, 1--WE have n
right to bury him with such indecen
haste"
Fright or no right, law or no law
he'll have to get out of this to night,
replied the first voice.
The contention had no effect upo.
the something within my ice boun
frame which still held its mysteriou
connection with sentient life, Tha
flament, fine as the gossamer shire
by which the spider binds together tn
ether and the rose, seemed an electri
wire charged with messages from a
unseen world. 1 could hear the ris
and fall of angelic choruses, like tn
u ..--E.1 AAan - alan On