Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1907-07-30

Il
the void. We cannot be parted. Oh
God, it is impossible! You are the life
Of my life. am not dead while you
still live"
Even as she spoke her left hand and
arm, hitherto untouched by the cruel
blight which had made her a helpless
invalid during many weary months, be
came numb and rigid. She was dying
now, not with the struggle against the
king of terrors which often marks the
passing of humanity, but with slow
torpidity more akin to sleep.
| Her brain was clear, but the stock OF
nervous force had sunk 80 low that her
few remaining words were spoken with
difficulty. They were mostly endearing
expressions. appeals to her loved one
to hope and pray, to trust steadfastly
in the all wise power that would direct
his destiny. With the last flicker of
existence the maternal instinct became
dominant again, and she asked him not
to forget her.
The boy could only murmur agOnized
appeals to the merciless unseen not to
rob him of the only being he held dear
on earth, but even in that awful mo-
ment he had the strength to cease his
frantic protests when they seemed to
cause her pain, and he forced himself
to join her in prayer.
When the doctor brought q nurse
and some small store Of the much
needed delicacies Mrs. Anson was al
ready unconscious.
The boy, aroused from frenzy by the
steps on the stairs, shrieked incohe-
rently:
81 have killed my mother See She
~ dead. killed her. made her cry.
You told me to look after her until you
returned. She cried and screamed be-
cause 1 spoke so wildly. 1t is all my
fault. u
| Hush! Your mother Is not dead, but
dying. Not all the skill Of man can
save her. Let her die in peace"
No other words could have checked
the wild torrent of lament that surged
from that wounded heart. So she still
lived. There remained faint flicker
Of life. Not yet had she passed the
dreadful barrier Of eternity. Through
his binding tears he thought he could
discern smile III the worn face. The
doctor watched Phil more narrowly
than the sunken frame on the bed. 1t
was best that the paroXysm Of grief
should 60 untrammeled. The nurse,
young woman unused as yet to the In
evitableness of death, moved timidly
toward the windows and adjusted the
curtains to admit more light.
At last when PhiPs strength yielded
to the strain Of his sorrow and the
very force Of his agony had spent IT.
self-the doctor leaned over the mani
mate form and looked into the eyes.
"It has ended, Phil" he whispered
"Your mother b in heaven!"
In heaven! What a tocsin of woe in
a message Of faith! The boy suddenly
stood up. Hope was murdered within
him. His tears ceased, and his labored
breathing came under control with
mighty effort lie stopped and kissed
the pale cheeks twice.
"Goodby, mother" he said. and the
dull pain in his voice was SO heart
rending that the nurses sympathies
mastered her. She burst out crying.
Professional instinct came to the doe
tors aid. He sharply reprimanded the
J,o ya,npnop anI cont bar off
OH an errand to bring those whose duty
It Is to render the last services to frail
mortality. The boy he led downstairs.
He was busy man, with many claims
interested him, and he resolved to turn
the boys thoughts forcibly away from
the all absorbing horror OF his moth
er's death.
Have you a tumbler or cup" he
said sharply.
Phil handed him tumbler. The
doctor poured out some wine taken
from the nurses basket, soaked piece
Of bread in the liquor and gave 1t to
the boy with an imperative command
to eat 1t instantly.
Somewhat to his surprise, he was
obeyed While Phil was devouring the
food Of which he stood so greatly In
need the doctor reviewed the circum
stances OF this poverty stricken house
hold so far as they were known to him.
Mr.. and Mrs. Anson had occupied n
fairly good position In Dieppe, where
Philips father was the agent Of an old
established London firm Of coal ship
pers. About two years earlier both
husband and wife were seriously In.
jured in motor car accident. Mr.. An
son sustained concussion Of the brain
and practically never regained his
senses, though he fingered for some
weeks and was subjected to two OPP
erations. Mrs. Anson's spine was dam
aged, with the result that she changed
from bright and vigorous woman In
to a decrepit invalid doomed to early
death from slow paralysis.
When the great expenses attendant
on these mishaps were paid she found
herself not only absolutely poor but
rendered incapable Of the slightest ef-
fort>tO turn her many and varied tai
ents to account In order to earn live
lihoOd. She came to London, where
her late husbands employers gener-
ously gave her rent free possession OF
the tenement In which she was lying
dead, helped her with funds to furnish
a. nI q oil
Philip with a promise of early promo
ton.
But the cup Of sorrow Is seldom left
half filed. Barely had the widow set
tied down to hopeful struggle on be
half of her beloved son than a quarrel
between partners led to the sale OF the
firms business to limited liability |
company. Economies were effected to
make way for salaried directors. Phil
ip was dismissed, with several other |
junior employees. and the stable yard
was marked out as a suitable site for |
the storage of coal required by the
local factories.
This development took place early |
In the new year, and the new company |
allowed Mrs. Anson to occupy her tiny
abode until the last day Of March. 1t
was now March 5, and how the widow |
and her son had lived during the past
two months the doctor could only guess |
from the gradual depletion Of their lit
tie store Of furniture.
1t was odd that such an intelligent
and well bred woman should be so |
completely shut of from the rest OF |