Part 3 (1/2)

The coht, and left us alone in our new quarters Then Ellen, the cook, ca--and neither of us knehether beefsteak was sold by the barrel or by the yard We exposed our ignorance, and Ellen was fall of Irish delight over it Patrick McAleer, that brisk young Irishet his orders for next day--and that was our first glidon Clemens, was born the 7th of November, 1870, and lived twenty-two months Susy was born the 19th of March, 1872, and passed froust, 1896 With her, when the end caardener and his wife) Clara and her land from around the world on the 31st of July, and took a house in Guildford A week later, when Susy, Katy and Jean should have been arriving froot a letter instead

It explained that Susy was slightly ill--nothing of consequence But ere disquieted, and began to cable for later news This was Friday All day no answer--and the shi+p to leave Southaan packing, to be ready in case the news should be bad Finally ca” This was not satisfactory--not reassuring I cabled again, asking that the answer be sent to Southa I waited in the post-office that night till the doors were closed, toward ht still coe We sat silent at ho for we knew not what Then we took the earliest e was there It said the recovery would be long, but certain This was a great relief to htened She and Clara went aboard the steamer at once and sailed for Aer house in Guildford

That was the 15th of August, 1896 Three days later, when my wife and Clara were about half-way across the ocean, I was standing in our dining-rooram was put into my hand It said, ”Susy was peacefully released to-day”

It is one of the mysteries of our nature that a man, all unprepared, can receive a thunder-stroke like that and live There is but one reasonable explanation of it The intellect is stunned by the shock, and but gropingly gathers theof the words The power to realize their fall i The mind has a dumb sense of vast loss--that is all It will take ether the details, and thus learn and know the whole extent of the loss A e represents only a ruined hoh years of use and pleasant associations By and by, as the days and weeks go on, first heAnd, when he casts about for it, he finds that it was in that house Always it is an _essential_--there was but one of its kind It cannot be replaced It was in that house It is irrevocably lost He did not realize that it was an essential when he had it; he only discovers it nohen he finds himself balked, hampered, by its absence It will be years before the tale of lost essentials is conitude of his disaster

The 18th of August brought s The norant of as happening; flying to meet this incredible calamity All that could be done to protect theood friends They went down the Bay and ht, but did not show the, and then only to Clara When she returned to the stateroom she did not speak, and did not need to Her mother looked at her and said:

”Susy is dead”

At half past ten o'clock that night, Clara and her lobe, and drew up at Elmira by the same train and in the same car which had borne them and me Westward froain Susy was there--not waving her welcohts, as she had waved her farewell to us thirteenwhite and fair in her coffin, in the house where she was born

The last thirteen days of Susy's life were spent in our own house in Hartford, the home of her childhood, and always the dearest place in the earth to her About her she had faithful old friends--her pastor, Mr

Twichell, who had known her fro journey to be with her; her uncle and aunt, Mr and Mrs Theodore Crane; Patrick, the coachun to serve us when Susy was a child of eight years; John and Ellen, who had been with us many years

Also Jean was there

At the hour when er Three hours later there caitis set in, and it was immediately apparent that she was death-struck That was Saturday, the 15th of August

”That evening she took food for the last ti the brain-fever was raging She walked the floor a little in her pain and delirium, then succumbed to weakness and returned to her bed Previously she had found hanging in a closet a gohich she had seen her ht it was her mother, dead, and she kissed it, and cried About noon she became blind (an effect of the disease) and bewailed it to her uncle

From Jean's letter I take this sentence, which needs no comment:

”About one in the afternoon Susy spoke for the last time”

It was only one word that she said when she spoke that last tiroped with her hands and found Katy, and caressed her face, and said ”Maracious it was that, in that forlorn hour of wreck and ruin, with the night of death closing around her, she should have been granted that beautiful illusion--that the latest vision which rested upon the clouded mirror of her mind should have been the vision of her mother, and the latest emotion she should know in life the joy and peace of that dear iined presence

About two o'clock she coain She fell into unconsciousness and so re at seven minutes past seven, when the release came She enty-four years and five months old

On the 23d, her mother and her sisters saw her laid to rest--she that had been our wonder and our worshi+p

In one of her own books I find some verses which I will copy here

Apparently, she always put borrowed matter in quotation marks These verses lack those marks, and therefore I take them to be her own:

Love calories' bloos fanned the air, And murmured, ”I am life”

Love came at eve, and when the day was done, When heart and brain were tired, and slu sun, And whispered, ”I am rest”

The summer seasons of Susy's childhood were spent at Quarry Farm, on the hills east of Elmira, New York; the other seasons of the year at the home in Hartford Like other children, she was blithe and happy, fond of play; unlike the average of children, she was at ti to search out the hidden s that make the puzzle and pathos of hues have baffled the inquirer and ed seven, she was oppressed and perplexed by therepetition of the stock incidents of our race's fleeting sojourn here, just as the sa has oppressed and perplexedof tile for bread; they squabble and scold and fight; they scrae creeps upon the down their prides and their vanities; those they love are taken frorief The burden of pain, care, th, a for release is in their place It coift earth ever had for them--and they vanish from a world where they were of no consequence; where they achieved nothing; where they were a mistake and a failure and a foolishness; there they have left no sign that they have existed--a world which will laet them forever Then another oes along the same profitless road, and vanishes as they vanished--to make room for another, and another, and a h the same desert, and accomplish what the first myriad, and all the !