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About The Hesperian / (Lincoln, Neb.) 1885-1899 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 12, 1896)
Til K I1ESPKR I A X
Mrs. Orinsby comes in every day and
talks and reads to me. She has such a
low, sweet voice. I often fall asleep
while she is reading and dream, and
when T wake she is gone. At first I felt
ashamed, but she does not mind it at all.
She says she likes to put me to sleep. 1
suppose because I sleep so much during
the day is why I cau't sleep at night. If
I could only keep from thinking as I lie
awake. It is horrible to be in the dark,
and think, and think, till it seems as if
oh dear, I'm off again. It's so hard to
get out of bad habits. It is nothing but
a habit, and I'll get rid of it soon, -as I
get stronger, (rood by, dearest. I think
1 had butter stop; writing dot". -5 m.ike one
so lived, I will make my next letter
longer, Good bv.
Dearest Husband: 1 intended writing
you yili'vday, but. fell asleep just as 1
was ab nit to do so, and when 1 awoke I
didn't seem to haw any energy left.
Sleeping makes people so lazy. I sat al
most, all day in my chair before the win
dow, watching the checkered shadows of
the leaver of a big maple dance on th :
roof of thppnr.h. Shadows always make
me think, and tV'reareso many shadows.
And when 1 think how, 1 see things,
such strange thing. Lrst night I saw
mother I'm sure it was she. She was
kneeling by a bed, crying. 1 did not see
who was on the bed, but some one was
there, and I'm sure I felt tears on my
face, 1 -cry so easily now. I can't help
thinking of it. Its so strange. Mother
has been dead ten yeais, you know.
Mrs. Ormsby was np yesterday after
noon again, and read me to sleep; hut
when I awoke she had not gone, this
time, and I caught such a strange look
on her face as she sat watching me. She
left soon, but kissed me before going.
She had never done that before. 1 sup
pose she thought I wanted a little potting.
I kuow 1 like it.
Dearest, aren't you coming home soon!
1 want you so much. Sometimes when
1 am thinking, thinking all the long,still
night, I'm afraid I shall never se v-m.
There, I shouldn't have said that. I am
not feeling quite as well to lay and it
creeps into my letter. Next time I'll
write a bright cheery one. I must stop
now. My back aches a little, aud I'd
better lie dowu. Good by.
I'll see you soon, won t If Good by.
"My Darling: 0 why don't you come,
why don't you come! I've been waiting
waiting so long. I could not write,
can hardly write now. Never mind these
tears: they will come. Can you make
out the words I can't see what I'm
writing. Things arc so shadowy every
thing's a shadow I miss my window and
chair so, and the leaves and the bright
sunshine. For a month I've been in
bed. Thev say I've been verv sick. I
don't know; perhaps. O if you were
only here! I want you t kiss me to
hold me close keep me from the dark
ness the shadows creeping around me.
My darling, my darling, I'm afraid
afraid you'll come too late.Good by
good by. I cannot write my fingers are
so cold and stiff. Kiss the letter as
I have done, 0 inv dear my dear
A Morning Study,
He was old, decrepit and feeble, walk
ing along heavily on his cane; his coat
hanging loosly, his trousers much too
short, his stiff grey whiskers, long and
unkempt, stained here and there with
spots of tobacco jjuce. His eyes over
hung by heavy, hushy eyebrows, glanc
ing uneasily to the left and right of him.
Truly I thought, "a Rip Van Winkle
come to town."
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