Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 February 1893 — THE OLD WIFE. [ARTICLE]

THE OLD WIFE.

By the bed the n'«l ma waiting, sat in vigil sad and tender. Where his aged wife lay dying; and the twilight shadows brown glowly from the wall and window chased the sunset's golden splendor Goiug down. “It is i ight!” she whispered, waking, (for her spirit see me 1 to hover Lost between the next world's sunrise and the bedtim) cares of this), And the old man, weak and tearful, trembling as he bent above her Answvi-ed, “Yes.” ‘■Ate the children in!” she asked him. Could he tell her? All the tnasures Of their household lay in silence many jears beneath tbe snow; But her heart wac with them living, back among her toils and pi asnres. Long ag i. And agiin she called at dew-fall, in the swea old summer weathe - ', “Where is Itttle Charlie, father? Frank and Robert—have they come?” “They are s-fe,” the old man faltered—“all the children are together, Safe at horn?.” Then he murmured gentle soothiogs, but his grief grew strong and stron,er, Till it choked and stilled him as he held tnd kissed her wriukled hand, For her soul, far out of hearing, could his fondest words no longer Understand. Still the pale lips stammered questions, lul.'ab os, and brokeu verses, Nursery prattle—i ll the lauguage of a mother’s loving heeds, While the midnight round the mourner, left to sorrow's hitter mercies, \V rapped its weeds. There was stillness on the pillow—and theo d man listened lonely— Till they led him from the clumber, with the bur Jen on his breast, For the wife of seventy years, his manhood’s early Eve and only. Lay at rest. “Fare you well,” he sobbed, “my Sarah; you will me.t the babeß before me; ■Tis a i ttle while, - tor neither can the part ng long abide, And you’ll come rnd call me soon, I k on and heaven will restore me To your side.” —[Brandon Banner.