The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1894-08-31
MRS. hENSHAW DEAD.
The Close of Long and Very Useful
ife


Mrs. Sarah d. Henshaw died last night at the
residence OF ner son, 974 Sixteenth street.
oakland, In the seventy-iirst year OF her age.
several years ago she was thrown from her
carriage and seriously injured. She never fully
recovered. She was the mother of Judge Hen.
preme Court.
MRS: Henshaw was a gifted woman. She
came from well-known family in Connecticut,
anu was carefully educated. From her earlieet
Years she exhibited marked literary tastes,
Mhlcn were not only cultivated and admired in
neI ndlVe State but were frequently called
On WINE living in Chicago. Among her most
noLeo enorts was the history OF the great sani-
taIy commissions work in the State OF heriadop-
llon. FROM the experience gained IN this de-
pdIti1ent Sne took decided stand as leader
III ciiarIiaOle works. and for some years her pen
was IN constant use in their behalf. Since COM
Ins W inns coast she has labored still In this
ESlIecton, out OF late years her literary work
nds not oeen so frequent as her friends and ad-
hiIels could nave wished.
Her brother. the subject of the suDjOined
poem, Edwin Tyler, was for many years prom
neht citizen of Michigan Bluffs, In this State.
ne came here in pioneer days with four college
classmates, Roger Baldwin. George Webster,
Gharles i. Blake and C. L. IL. Palmer. OF
,Eess tne last Two are still living In Berkeley.
1--WE, nj. yer was man OF marked presence and
possessed literary gifts of high order, but was
singulafly modest and refTalned from the use
eI MS pen Although acting for years as agent
LOT WeIls' Fargo & Co.'s Express In his noun
IN hydraulie mining. One bright day
ne went to visit one of his proper
Ties and while standing upon large
llou pipe that carried water under heavy
pressure 10 giant some distance from his
statlon' u suddenly collapsed and poor Tyler
was thrown many feet in the air and fell uD0n
pie OF rocks In spite of the best medical
care MS injuries were so serious that death
IoIoWed IN few hours. The following ex-
9ulsite poem contributed by MS sister TO an
Eastern magazine soon after receiving the dis
tFeSslng news attracted wide attention.
THE TELEGRAM.
Dead! did you say? He! dead IN his prime
SON OF my mother my brother my friend
While the horOlogue points to the of his time,
Has his sun set 10 darEness?. all at an end?
C''By Il sudden Gccideu.")
Dead 1t is not. it cannot, il must not be true!
Let me read the dire words for myself, IL can;
Relentless hard. cold they rise on my view
they blind me! How did You say they rant
(''He tcGS BlOrtdtty iIDUred.'D
Dead! around me hear the singing OF birds,
And the breath OF June roses comes in at the
pane;
NOthlng-nOthing Is changed by those terrible
They cannot be truei let me see them again!
CAnd died VesterdayO
Another To- morrow the tale Will repeat;
Outstrlpped by this thunderboIt flung from above,
Scathing my heart as It falls at my feet!
('Fumsrdl fO-R0TrolC.")
on, terrible Telegraph subtle and still!
parting thy liRhtnlngs with pitileSS haste
No Kind warnings thunder-no storm bodings
Bnt one fierce deadly fash and the heart Iieth
("TnfoTga his JrteHds.n)