OCR Text |
Show VOL I. Hebe's, Wasatch CoyNrv, Utah, Monday; September ' ' r v . - ' . I . , TIRED MOTHERS., I ' t No. : . ,i j , i. :Or capj,; or, jacket on myxhamber floor ; Tf F could kiss a rosy restless foot, f; And hear its patter in my home once ..... V, . A little elbo,v leans upon your knee, . ! Your tired knee, that has so much to bear, j Achildjs dear eyes are looking loveingly," From underneath a thatch of tangled hair; perhaps you do not heed the velvet touch p Of warm, moist fingers, folding yours " .To-morrow- . VJ'say (. . m- - That while I I ' : V : f l. . t I - ; . . if,' - , 4 . ' :: f heven. i want to go to you yoti ; said cci ldicc meto. you. Mrs. Clark is kind to me but.she is not like you. ' you slio this to God and send ;fpr une sure., my arm hurts rrie so and you said it would-bwelkin heven. I send Dora.. yon a kiss, from me, little Qold indeed must be the "heart that does .not moisten the eye that looks up- on that touching and pathetic lette. with its baby love and unquestioning faitlij and illustration of the love be-- . . e wonder so that mothers ever fret At little children clinging to their gowti; when the days; Or that the 'are wet, v. : ..I'-. y Are black enough to make us; frown. If I could find a little muddy boot,r I u , ; v- . LITTLE CHILD'S LETTER ii : , 1 ' r-- ' the time seems so long, ' ache then! fJ, you vvent to And never would nestle, in your palm again; If little feet into the grave had dipped, ol could not blame you. Tor your, heart , .ff. ' T . v Gods ivorld could ; heven.: The letter vas:as follows: ; p " vd V ri(',v'.home.dear mammaI am sb; lonesome sins . s r ; ; mamma in ' 'Slipped. ' 8 In the Cincinnati post office yesterday, in the general deposit of mail gathered at noon, was. a muclFtumbled arid1 f ear- stain e'd postal-card- , y The writing upon lit swas in' a childs hand; trembling arid (uncertain;' ; The adress was My dCar : 1 I - i. The little child who brought' me only good. p ' And if, some night when you sit dowp to rest, y You miss this elpow from. your knee;; T'he restless, head from- - off your, breast, The tongue, that chatters constantly ,r If from yoilr own the dimpled hand had 1 j T;,VA r wore the badge of mother.. did nut kiss more oft, and tenderly, : . (, i,!, 4 ' ,-- ; - p:; . . 1 t To catch the sunshine till it slips away. Ail niw it see ns surpassing strange to ' ' ; ! v - : o-day,, -t- She was more blissfull content than I. But ah the! dainty pillow next my own ;j Is never rumpled by a shining head; .My birdling frbm its nest is flovn:M .The little boy I used to kiss' is deadf, 1 : i - . slow A i u: is no woman in There ; 4 to-da- y,' . make. a 'kite to reach the u ,Sky : You are almost to tired to pray tonight. ) " But it is blessedness. A year ago. ;i I did not see it as I do 1 We are so, dull ill . tli i ids; stands too i , ' more: ,;If. I . could mend a brokenheart ' so tight;-- 1 i s You do not prize this blessing over much, - l I i I : t 4 J : i 4 , I foot-print- s, . ' 5 : ; . nr -- i - -- jit - |