The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 18??-1935, 1893-02-17


each lost child with meningitis, and
number of Others are down with the
same dIsease.-Mr. Tom Denton is suf-
fering terribly with erysipelas In his
right arm and hand.
Oar farmers are putting in every
pretty day preparing their potato and
oat ground! Monied men think we are
entering upon All era of prosperity.
sincerely trust 80.
The Orr Brothers, of MoOresville,
shipped a car OF cattle last week, anu
another this, from this point to Birm-
ingham.
Butter, eggs and turkeys are in great
demand just now, and bring good
price. Qnite lot of OF each is being
carried OF.
hope "Atbene" will continue to
write tor the HERALD. Silence, as to
her itemizinY, will DO neither golden
nor appreciated. The same can be said
Of our talented "Leshia," for whom |
have the kindest affection and highest
regard.
We appreciated, more than we can
express, the letters of "Betsy" and
"BArbsrs"in last weeks HERALD.
Our home once gay with happy voices
seems now tosbe peOpled with ghosts.
Their garments rustic in dimly lighted
halls, their footsteps echo on untrOdd6n
stAirways1 tHeir voices murmur N de-
serted cnapl DerS, and when the even
ing tirelighLs flicker on the wallis, they
come tIOuping Into mothers room, all
who are goney the dead and living.
Our hOme--lt seems like home no more!
1t will never he the same again, for its
light is quenched. But heaven will
be more ike home TO us, now that
mother is there. JAM, 18th and 18th,
and Feb. LIST, were eventtul Wednes-
days in our household. On the first
named date, mother had stroke of
paralysis OF the brain; on the second,
our little ono WAS spoken into TX
istence; and, on the last, in the night
time, we caught the rustling Of the
Angels wings who had come to bear my
precious mother away TO the bosom OF
the dear Christ. During the first week
OF her sickness, it WAS my hand that
attended to all her wants; and, during
the next week, when ! (tho' in an adj.
joining room) could no longer go to her,
she missed me sorely, and every hour
asked for her "baby child"-as she pre-
sisted in calling me. The sound of her
sweet, feeble voice fingers yet in the
air, and seem to hear 1t now, as she
said, when they carried her wee grand
son TO her for the first time, "MRy the
Lord bless this innocent little babew
On the evening before she died, she sent
me word to name the boy, A. p. Nc
Ferrin, and wanted me to come in and
lie down by her as she wished to talk
with me. But, we did not think of her
leaving us so soon, and they told her
could not como then, but 1 might go
Thursday. But-ah, me! when Thurs
day dawned, it WAS she they brought to
me, the pail bearers bringing the casket
close up to my bedside, where | could
see her for the last time. The fragile
thanksgiving hands that had wrought
so much for me-were folded upon her
bosom, and the waxen lids hid from
view the blue eyes that always beamed
with love for her child. How | longed
to accompany her on her last, long
journey.
Their last long journey, mother and
father
Together, yet apart,
Homeward and graveyard-mother at
rest,
Father with his breaking heart!
Dear mother! Her pilgrimage on
earth is ended. Cheertully and patient
| ly she bore lifc's crosses, and with hope
for her guiding star, has safely an
chored in heaven. Faithfully she per-
formed her duties, bravely endured
adversely, and prayerfully trusted in
her Maker; and, now while we mourn
| for her here, she is reunited to her dear
children in the beautiful, "bright be-
| yondp She has passed the pearly gates
and entered the beautiful city. The
winter of her life has closed; her last
great trial triumphantly past, and she
has gone whore there reigns one glori.
Gus, eternal, perennial spring. o, dear
heart and true, we have so missed you,
every hour, and mourned,. and, tho
this dead separation for a time seems to
swallow up in midnight darkness all
the warm sunlight of our lives, vet we
try to look up through our tear-dimmed
eyes and see your dear hand beckon-
ing us on to the home of the soul,
"Where no storms ever beat on the
glittering strands,
| While the years of eternity roll"
We do not sorrow without hope, the
only balm for earth's bereaved ones
the only lotion that sooths our heart
ache. We feel and know that her dear
immortal hands will Join ours i'll happy
greeting in that land where parting
never comes, for hopes radiant arch
bends DER the grave and speaks of the
dawn Of eternity's coming morning.
Almost to see his face!
And yet, ali, yet l know, as oft al
home,
Your eyes will have lingering in theil
gaze
Wistful and waiting till father and
come.
No angel of the fold,
Spotless of wing and garment unde'
filed,
Would your dear arms so gladly CLASP
and hold
AS me, your lonely, weeping, esrtl
stained child.
Not till l come to lie
In such white sleep as yours, within
my hand
The immorteLIeS; peace, silence, mys
terry
Upon me, shall know or understand
But until then-ah when?
AS toward you helpless and bereft
grope,
Questioning of earth and heaven, o
time and men,
still will hope to find yOu-still will
hope. VERNA VILLIERS.
ANDREWS.