The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1918-08-07
'''ThsOnly Son
Of His Mother !,
(Copyright)
B, KATE M. CLEARLY

Grape tied with Dlack hunS LrOll
the door knob Of the little frame cot
tage. All through the long, blues bril-
liant autumnal day there had been a
trickle of humanity up and down those
sagging steps. Men and women had
walked sedately up and as decorously
descended, for the friends OF Henry
Carson had been many.
There were reasons for his popular
lty. He had been a kindly and gen.
erous man, broad Of vision, warm OF
heart, gentle Of SOUL. Life was more
glowing for those who warmed their
hands at the hearth OF his friendship.
At one time he had been wealthy
In his own home he had been adDred.
In him had been no trace Of the pet
tiness that brands that most despic-
able of creatures, the domestic tyrant'
All that skill, lova money, tenderness
could do had been attempted to aid the
only boy in the houseful of girls. A
hopeless, an incurable invalid since In
fancy, his sixteen years had been pune
tuated by periods Of suffering so In
tense that even those who. cherished
him could not have rebelleh for his
own poor, tortured sake had the order
for release come from the court OF
final appeal.
So it was that when his hale, hand.
some, hearty father, who had Left home
that morning in the prime az robust
manhood, was carried back, dead, the
deepest sense of deprivation was ex-
perienced by the one who would miss
him most in the dark hours from
which he covered with such cruel ap-
prebension. z
While the exhausted sobbing of the
widow and the frightened Wailfng OF
the little children resounded, while
black clad strangers noiselessly intent
upon their solemn duties, came and
went; while neighbors, offering sym
pathy and coincidence, flocked into the
little room, he moved silently among
them, tall, attenuated lad with a set
pale face and eyes Of impenetrable mel
aneholy.
Alone in the darkened front room o.
the glorious day waned, he watched the
corners growing mystically dim in The
twilight and the long box on the tres
tie looming blacker in the encroachine
shadows.
Save for that other peaceful pres
ence the boy was alone In the room
From his screened solitude in the win
dow recess he saw his mother come
in, She approached the coffin. He no
iticed how worn and shaken she Looked
in the flickering light Of the candles
She stood there, the shawl hanging
loosely from her shoulders her arms
fallen straight BY her sides. She
seemed overwhelmed by the utter lassi
tude Of spent grief. u !.
'.Mary," cried d woman,s voice
poignant with sympathy, "oh, Mary 7
| The widow turned with start, rec
ognized the newcomer. A choking
sound broke from her as she ran into
the arms Of her girlhood friend.
s.Mary, I only this afternoon read
the notice in the paper. I came as
quickly as knew, as could. Ny dear
my dear, don't cry SO! don't! It must
have been dreadful shock, Of course
being so sudden at-at the last; but
believe me, it is better as 1t is, far bet
ter. Know it is hard for you to
think so now. but you will come tC
realize it."
The stricken woman drew back, star
ing wildly at her friend.
"Oh, you will come to know it Is fol
the best. He could never have beer
well or happy or I'LL mans place il
the world. Although you all concealed
It from him as well as you could, HI
must have suspected what an anxiet!
he was to you, what q drag, what Z
burden. And there was no possibilit.
Of his ever being less a heartache t
you. Oh, / know what you woult
say" The torrent Of her eager speech
swept away the others Ineffective ct
fort to protest. "But ! speak as tn
old friend who loves you dearly. /
is better for you all that he is dead
Think If instead Of that poor, useless
boy 1t had been his strong. fine fa
ther who had been taken! Then, In
deed" (.
An outburst Of tempestuous weep
ing checked her.
I; ..Hush, oh, hushl Don't you-don'
you know"
"My God, Mary, you don't mean
The paper said the same name"
The widow pointed to the coffin
Then she huddled to the floor beside !
and crouched there, her face hidden II
her shawl.
When she had left the room the DO,
rose YEARLY. He walked slowly ant
like one grown old. In that uncertain
circle OF tawny light he paused. Hi
young face, sanctified and splritualize.
BY suffering, leaned over that other Il
the black box below. It's benign calm
ness almost tainted him. His owl
countenance, white and working, dis
mayed his sister when she met him a
the door. She cried out at sight Q
him. . ss.i t