The Marshall republican., 1906-01-26
Ny Fellow laboIsI.
49,

At that moment our conversation
was disturbed BY the sound Of a person
falling heavily on the floor OF the room
above us. which WA occupied by my
wife.
Without another word we both turn
ed and ran up-stairs. knocked at the
door. but, getting no answer. entered.
accompanied BY Fansy, TO find my dear
wife lying In her dressipg gown In a
dead faint before the toilet table. We
lifted her up to the bed. and with great
~dificulty brought her round, but this
fainting ut was the commencement OF
her last Illness. Her constitution an.
peared to have entirely broken up. and
all we could do vas 10 prolong her life
by a few months.
II was a most heart-breaking bust.
ness. and n IN which ever at this
distance OF time I do not care 10 dwell.
was deeply attached TO my wife: in
deed, she was my FIRST and only love
in the sense In which the word II gener-
ally used; but my love and rare avail
ed but little against the forward march
or The Destroyer. For three months we
fought against him. but he came on as
surely and relentlessly as the tide, and
at last the end was upon IA. Before her
death her mind cleared, as the sun
often does in sinking, and she spoke
to me 30 sweetly. and yet 10 hopefully.
that her tender words almost broke
my heart. And yet Il was a happy
death. I have seen many people die.
but | remember one who was 30
completely borne up across the dark
gulf upon the wings OF child like faith.
All her fears and griefs were for me.
for herself she had none. When ut
last she had kissed her boy and babe
him fareweli-thank Heaven he WA
not old enough TO understand what "
meant-and said her last word to me.
she sent for Fanny and kissed her too
Goodbye. my love-" she said: you
must look after Geoffrey and tho boy
when | am gone and then. az though
n sudden idea struck her. she took the
girls hand and placed II in mine.
You Will Just suit each other" she
said. with n faint smile. and those were
the last words she spoke.
Fanny colorcd and said nothing.
remember thinking afterward that
most women would have cried.
And Then the end came and left me
broken-hearted.
II was the night after the funeral,
and I was walking up and down my
little study. struggling against n dis
tress that only seemed 10 further over
whelm me the more I tried TO bear up
ngains, II. and thinking with that help.
less bitterness that does come upos
us at such times. wrapping us. as Il
were. In a mist OF regret. OF the many
little things ! might have done TO make
my dear wife happier while she lived.
Dnd OF the irreparable void her loss
had left In my life. II WINS we'll for her.
was sure OF that. for what can bs
better than 10 aleepI But In those
days that certainty OF q future In
dividual existence. which I have now
been able through my discoveries TO
reach 20. was not present with me. II
only doomed IN q possibility ut the end
OF an ~untraveled vista. She was
gone. and no echo came from
where she was. How could Lknow
tHnt ! hhu not ioet ucf forever
Or. even II abe lived In some dim
heaven. that | too should mako my
way thither. and ind her unchanged;
for remember that change In deathi
II has all passed now. ! an a sure
ms ] write these words that at no dis
tant date ! shall stand face TO face
with her again. as ] am that the earth
travels round the sun. The science
that has unalterably demonstrated the
earth's course has also vindlcated that
Unborn Instinct OF humanity 80 much
attacked Of late days, and demonstrated
Its truth to me beyond the possibility
OF doubt. But ] did not know II then.
II shall never see her again. never!"
] cried In my agony. ''and have moth
ing left to live .forl"
Perhaps you will not" said a quiet
voice at my elbow. shut you have your
child and your work left to live for.
And II there Is anything In your dis
covery. you will see her through all the
ages"
II was Fanny. who had come into
the room without my noticing Il. and
somehow her presence and her words
brought comfort to me.