The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1908-12-09
Crossing the Bar,
Observation-Disclosures
BY VENA ROSS MORSE.

Observation-Disclosures
The last rays of the setting sun
stole softly into the spotless little
room where Martha, wife of Abram,
the blacksmith, lay motionless in her
high-posted, old-fashioned bed.
The old high chest of drawers with
the snowy towel across the top took
on a new lustre as the light struck
1t, and the reds and blues in the
iwell-worn rag carpet looked even
brighter than in broad daylight.
Even the raised edges of the irregu-
lar patch near the bed looked less
forbidding than usual to the sick
woman as she lay drinking in the last
glories of the day. Soon the light
faded, leaving in its place soft
sweet dusk, filled with the perfume
of flowers, the cheerful chirp-chirp
of the cricket and the plaintive night
call of the birds in the neighboring
woodland.
Gazing with unseeing eyes where
the light had touched, Martha went
over her life as she had done so
many time before since she had re-
gretfully, but uncomplainingly, laid
down the burden of home cares. 1t
had now been seven months since she
had left her little room, and for the
last half of that time, she had been
confined to her bed. The nature of
her disease the country doctors did
not know, so she lay patiently wait
ing for the end.
) Abram, her faithful companion for
fifty years, cared for her as tenderly
as a devoted, clumsy old man could,
but helped by visit from one or an
other of their kind neighbors every
day.
"Marthy likes my cruel and toast"
he would say with a smile of salts
faction, as broth, jellies and fruits
were donated by willing friends, who
sought to tempt Martha's appetite.
And she did like the cruel and toast
and his companionship, also. And
her sweet, faded face would light up
with love and trust as Abram en-
tered with feeble steps, steadying
the tray with its cup of tea and plate
Of toast. How many times he had
waited upon her and never q word
of complaint, but always that kindly
smile and the solicitous Feel better,
Marthy?" or How, now, Marthy?"
1t was for Abram that Martha was
content to linger and suffer, for was
not there yet chance that he would
heed his Masters voice and believe
as she had believed since the early
days of their courtship?
Yielding to all else, the old man
steadfastly refused to open his heart
to the pleadings of wife, pastor or
friends. If she could be the means
of bringing him to the fold she felt
as If her life work would be accom-
plished and she would gladly leave
her aching body behind that her tired
spirit might find rest and peace in
her Fathers house.
A sharp twinge caused her to
change painfully onto her other side,
and her glance fell upon a faded
her thoughts few back to her old
life; the first visits of Abram; the
Sunday when in all her bright youth
fulness she Joined the church of her
father and mother; the summer day
when she and Abram had promised
those sacred things-till death us do
part; the little house where they had
begun housekeeping-and then she
drifted into fitful sleep, her lips
still moving and her fingers twitch-
ing nervously over the patchwork
guilt.
Cautiously Abram entered with the
small hand lamp and placed it care
fully and noiselessly in its accus-
toned place. He saw that Martha
was asleep, and he sank into the
high-backed rocker and studied her
worn face.
He knew as well as she that the
end was drawing near and soon he
would be left alone in the humble
home that had so long sheltered
them both. The tears welled up in
MS eyes and ran over his Wrinkled
face, dropping onto his faded vest
He wiped his sleeves across his face
and sighed. The rocker creaked as
he moved and the aged wife slowly
opened her eyes.
Abram rose and deftly arranged
the usual corner of paper around the
lamp chimney SO as to shut off the
light from Martha's eyes.
"Abram, come up Closer" came
the weak voice, and he wonderingly
obeyed. as he was already SO neal
he could touch her pillow.
"Abram, do you remember ths
church where we were married?"
"Yes. Marthy."
"And how sweet the roses ant
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