The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1899-03-05


die. Though L could just walk across
the floor, L threw a shawl around me
took my baby in my arms and opened
| the door. A binding gust of rain blew
in. A terrible storm was raging and
! had not noticed it, l was so taken ur
with the child.
81 could not face that gale; indeed
was SO weak fell on my knees as il
struck me and became dripping wet
before l could drag myself inside. The
baby began to moan and every thing
was turning dark before me, when ]
heard a strong, sweet voice cry out in
the roadway:
!" Is there room in this house for me
till the storm has blown by? 1 cannot
see my way down the hillside
With bursting heart l looked up.
A woman was standing in the doorway,
with the look of an angel in her eyes.
L did not know her, but her face was
one to bring comfort to the saddest
heart. Holding up my baby, cried:
My baby is dying: L tried to go for
the doctor, but my knees bent under
me. Help me, as you are a mother
r
i must have fallen again, for the
next thing l remember l was lying by
the hearth looking up into her face,
which was bending over me. She was
white as the rag l had tied about my
baby's throat and by the way her
breast heaYed, she was either very
much frightened or very sorry.
s. wish you had the help of any one
else said she. Babes perish in my
arms and Wither at my breast l can
not touch 1t. much as | yearn to. But
let me see its face; perhaps l can tell
you what is the matter with it.
L showed her the baby's face, and
she bent over it, trembling very much,
/ almost as much. indeed, as myself.
1t is very sick she said, but il
You viii use the remedies / advise.
think you can save it And she told
me what to do and helped me all she
| could; but she did not lay a finger on
! the little darling, though from the way
she watched it, l saw that her heart
was set on his getting better. And he
! did; in an hour he was sleeping peace
fully, and the terrible weight was gone
| from my heart and from hers. When
J the storm stopped, and she could leave
the house. she gave me a kiss; but the
| look she gave me meant more than
kisses. God must have forgotten her
| goodness to me that night when he let
| her die SO pitiable a DEATH
At the minister's house they were
comenting upon the look of serenity
observable in her dead face.
Il have known her for thirty years."
| her pastor declared, land never before
have l seen her wear a look of real
peace 1t is wonderful. considering the
circumstances. Do you think she was
so weary of her lifes long struggle that
she hailed any release from it. even
that of violence?"
A young man, a lawyer Eisiting them
from New York, was the only one to
answer
I never saw the woman you are
talking about" said he, land know
nothing of the circumstances of her
death beyond what you have told me.
But from the very incongruity between
her expression and the violent nature Of
her death, 1 argue that there are depths
to this crime which have not yet been
sounded"
What depths? 1t is q simple case of
murder, followed by theft. To be sure
we do not yet know the criminal, but
money was his motive; that is clear
CROUCH"
Are you ready to wager that that is
all there is to it?'
This was a startling proposition to
the minister.
You forget my CLOTH" said he.
The young man smiled. THAT is true.
Pardon me. / was only anxious to show
how strong my conviction was against
any such easy explanation of crime
marked by such contradictory fea-
lures"
Two children on the Portchester road
We're exchanging boyish condolences.
DO you know what l think about
it2" asked one.
Nav How should II"
Wall, I think old Mrs. Webb got the
likes of what she sent. Don't you
know she had six children once, and
that she killed every one of them?"
Killed 'en. she?"
I baa,.5 l,a,. faII Cpoo
all about it. She said here was
blight on her house. [ don't know what
that is; but l guess it's something big
and heavy, and that il fell on every one
of her children, as fast as they came,
and killed en-
Then Pm glad 1 bent her child"
Very different were the recollections
interchanged between two middleaged
Portchester women.
She was drinking tea at my house
when her sister Sairsy came running in
with the news that the baby she had
left at home wasn't quite right. That
was her first child, you know"
Yes, yes; for 1 was with her When
that baby came" broke in the other, |
and such joy as she showed when they !
told her it was alive and well l never !
saw. 1 do not know why she didn't |
expect it to be alive, but she didn't, !
and her happiness was just wonderful |
TO see.
well, she didn't enjoy it long. The |
poor little fellow died young. But L |
was telling you Of the night when she |
first heard he was ailing. Philemon !
had been telling a good story, and we |
were all laughing, when Sairey came !
in. L can see Agatha now. She always !
had the most brilliant eyes i'll the coun-
tY, but that day they were superbly |
dazzling. They changed, though, al |
the sight of Saireys face, and She |
jumped TO meet her just as if she knew !
what Sairey was going To say before |
ever a word left her lips. My babyi' /
q can hear her YETI Something is
the matter with the babyl' And though
Sairey made haste to tell her that he
was only ailing, and not at all ILL., she !
turned upon Philemon with a look none
of us ever quite understood, he changed |
so completely under it, just as she had
under Sairey's; and to neither did the
cid happiness ever return, for the child
died within week, and when the next
came it died also, and the next, till six
small innocents lay buried in yonder
OLD graveyard
II know: and sad enough it was.
too especially as she and Philemon
were both fond of children. Well. well,
the ways of Providence are past finding
out! And now she is gone, and Phile-
MON
And he'll follow her soon; he can't
live without Agatha"
Nearer home, the old sexton was
about the six gravestones
raised in Portchester churchyard to
these six dead infants. He had been
sent there 10 choose a spot in which
to lay the mother. and was full of the
shock it gave him to see that line of
little stones, telling of a past with
which the good people of Sutherland
town found it hard to associate Phile-
non and Agatha Webb.
Pm a digger of graves he unused,