Blames His Mother-in-Law

New York, 1895

William Bedell, of East Rockaway, has begun an action against his mother-in-law, Mrs. Ryder, of Lynbrook, for $10,000, for the alienation of his wife's affection. The couple were married last summer despite the wishes of the girl's parents. As soon as they were installed in their home the mother came to live with them. She started to run things immediately.

Finally Bedell furnished another home and asked his wife to leave her mother and live with him. The wife refused to join her husband.


A Great Neck Horseman

George J. Harley, owner of the Crestland stock farm at Great Neck, is one of the young breeders of this section that is gathering in a number of choice bred ones, and when he purchased the famous producing stallion Vatican, by Belmont, dam Vara, by Hambletonian 10, at the Kellogg sale last week, he did not make a mistake, as this horse is one of the great sires, being the sire of Belle Vara, 2:08¾. Vassar, 2:07, and eleven others with fast records. Mr. Harley has a number of other well bred stallions and brood mares, among them being Electric Coin, 2:18½, and sons of Guy Wilkes, Director, Norval, Rumor and Alcantara. He also bought at this sale a 2 year old colt by Guy Wilkes, dam Atlanta, by The Moor, second dam Minnehaha, the dam of eight in the list.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, NY, April 19, 1895, p. 5.

Maternal Love

1895

The devoted attachment of the mother to her young is known to exist in every range of life, a fact which proves that "self preservation is not the first law of nature," for even the most fragile being which flees from man and other enemies disregards personal safety and will fight until death when the safety of its helpless offspring is concerned. An adder would hardly be selected as a type of loving affection, yet we hear a story of one which, when approached, gave a fearful hiss, and at this signal four little adders instantly glided down her throat for protection. Waiting to shelter them from the menacing danger, she lost time in getting away, and the narrator of time story was able to kill her. — Philadelphia Times.


Grown Cold

Wife — Oh, George, I fear your love has grown cold.
Husband — Well, if it has, it is only because it is trying to match the steak and coffee you give me every morning. — Detroit Free Press.

Tried To Kill Her Child

New York, 1895

Mrs. Haines Goes Suddenly Crazy — Ropes With Nooses in the Cellar.

Mrs. Nathaniel Haines, 29 years old, wife of a carpenter residing in Oyster Bay, attempted to drown her youngest child in a tub of water on Tuesday. She has been subject to attacks of insanity, and has been acting strangely for several days. On Sunday afternoon she cut off her hair and burned it, and Monday afternoon she threw $85 in bank notes into the fire. She appeared to be herself again Tuesday morning, and her husband left her at home with their two boys, aged 2 and 6 years respectively.

In the afternoon when Mrs. Haines ran from her house only partly clad and with a child almost naked in her arms no one saw her. Arriving at a part of the town known as Fort Hill, she ran into the cellar of a house occupied by a family named Gould and threw the child into a tub full of water in the cellar.

While she was trying to drown the child Mr. Gould appeared. He grabbed the boy. The woman holding the child with one hand tried to stab Mr. Gould with a carving knife which she held in the other hand. He dodged each lunge made at him, all the time holding on to the child. Mrs. Gould's screams brought neighbors, and the child was rescued.

Mr. Haines said that afternoon on going into the cellar he discovered three ropes with a loop in the end of each, hanging from beams. He believes that the nooses were prepared by his wife with the intention of hanging herself and both of her children.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, NY, Feb. 1, 1895, p. 12.

All the Baby Wanted

1895

"It isn't a bit of use," cried the young man distractedly as he paced the room with the crying infant in his arms. "There is something alarming the matter with him, or he wouldn't cry like this."

"Oh, whatever shall we do?" said the young wife as she took her offspring and tried to soothe him. "Whatever shall we do?"

They were very young, and it was their first baby, and really if things had gone on for another hour as they had during the last it is an open question which would have gone into convulsions first — father, mother or baby.

"I'll fetch mother," cried the young fellow at last. "She'll know what to do." Presently he returned, dragging the good old mother with him, almost breathless with haste and overcome with apprehension. Putting on her spectacles, she regarded the infant critically for a moment and then said, "He wants feeding!"

"There," cried the young father excitedly, "we both knew the little beggar wanted something, but neither of us could tell what it was. " — London Tit-Bits.

They All Come To See This

1920

Up in Hige River, Alberta, Canada, people are coming a long way to the farm of Mrs. J. A. Osborne to see one of the most curious nature freaks ever known. Out in the barnyard a large hen is mothering five black and white terrier puppies, taking care of them as maternally as if they were her own brood. It all came about when the mother dog stole the hen's eggs. Biddy, to get even, appropriated the pups. Since then the dog will have nothing to do with her offspring. But they don't seem to care, and appear to be just as happy with the hen. Biddy will fight furiously if anybody tries to take one of the puppies from her.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Aug. 7, 1920, p. 5.

The Dear, Worn Hand

1895

Few things are capable of touching one with a deeper sense of pathos than the shrunken, blue veined hand of one who is near and dear. Nothing brings a sharper pang of foreboding and a harder lump in the throat than the first time it strikes us that the gentle hand that soothed our childish pains and griefs and has gladly worn away its softness and beauty in our service is thin and withered, with purple veins that stand out like whipcords when it lies at rest. Such a hand ought to look more beautiful to those for whom it has toiled, whose suffering it has charmed away, than the fairest hand ever modeled by a sculptor. — Philadelphia Press.


She Felt Hurt.

Mrs. Wibble — I found my cook in the kitchen today crying because she had broken one of my choicest pitchers.
Mrs. Wabble — Was she so sorry?
Mrs. Wibble — Oh, yes! It fell on her foot. — New York Sun.

Baby Offered For Sale Given Away

1920

Declares She Needed Money to Restore Her Health, Is Excuse of Mother.

NEW YORK, N. Y. — Baby Margaret McNulty, who was offered at public sale recently for $250, has been withdrawn from the market and went to James F. Sweetman as a gift.

The mother, Mrs. Catherine McNulty, retains an undivided interest in the child's affection and will have permission to see her whenever she wishes.

Mrs. McNulty, whose husband died recently, offered her baby for sale when she found herself unable to earn an adequate living. She hoped the money she asked for the baby would give her an opportunity to regain her health, and at the same time she would know that Margaret was receiving proper care.

She changed her mind about the sale before the first of the scores of would-be purchasers arrived at her home and gave the child to Mr. Sweetman.

Worried for Weeks.

Margaret was in the Sweetman family once before. She came back to her mother when Mrs. Sweetman died. At that time Mrs. McNulty feared that Mr. Sweetman would be so occupied with the care of his own motherless child that he could not give Margaret adequate care.

It was only after the worry of weeks became desperation that Mrs. McNulty finally felt that circumstances had driven her to part with her baby.

She worked beyond her strength to care for the little daughter and her brother two years older. A year ago she was stricken with influenza. It was afterward the doctor first mentioned a fighting chance, which would cost money for transportation to the country, milk, eggs and rest.

Baby's Price List.

Her mind always brought up against the balance between this and the price list following:

Feel of one pair of little, clinging hands, $50; Weight of a tiny body, drowsy in the twilight, $50; 2,555 "good night" kisses, distributed over next seven years, $50; Sound of a baby voice prattling "I love you," $50; Thrill of the word "mother," $50. Total $250.

Her story went on:

"There wasn't any balance. But as I felt less able to be about I came to see that it wasn't what I wanted, but what is best for her.

"Some day she will be old enough to understand what I am doing and why. I shall not be with her then.

"Either way, whether I let her go voluntarily now or not, I should not be with her. But looking backward thru the understanding years she will know that I tried in the only way open to me to raise money to save her mother's life. She will feel that it was for her that I tried.

Has Right to Mother.

"Every baby has a right to a mother.

"And if taking money in exchange for my baby is the only way I can save her mother for her, am I not doing what is right?

"Some day, if I live thru the next few months, I may meet her again as my daughter, if the plan works out. Otherwise the doctor says I shall be here only a little while. This way I can find the right ones to take her; the other way she would be put in an institution."

Altho she made public her offer two days ago, Mrs. McNulty has hidden herself away with her two children, refusing to see any of the dozens who have called for inspection. After having brought herself to agree to the sale, she said she was not yet strong enough to take the next step.

Her only relatives, also in poor circumstances, live in Belfast, Ireland.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Aug. 7, 1920, p. 3.

An All-Embracing "Tabby"

1916

Dog, Rabbit and Chicken Are Part of Her Family.

PERRY, Maine — A black cat, Dinah by name, in the family of John Clark of Perry, adopts everything on the premises small enough for her to cuddle. Of her latest brood of kittens she was allowed to keep one, and a neighbor, coming into the house suddenly, surprised the maternal one in a clothes basket with her own jetty offspring, a gray kitten of another pussy's family, and a white rabbit. The assortment made quite a medley. Later on she added a puppy to her tribe, and she also cuddles an orphan chicken.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 7.

Mother Whips Man Courting Her Girl

1920 (*1919)

But Maid Still Vows Love For Married Suitor

Unhappy Wife and Desperate Parent Are Victims of Sordid "Eternal Triangle"

KANSAS CITY, Mo., Jan. 1. — Love of the eternal triangle brand, which sneered at the marriage vow and set at naught horsewhippings of an angry mother and which had no regard for a little new life coming into the world, brazenly bared itself in the South Side Court.

Edward L. Branham, 22 years old, a telegraph operator, stood beside his wife, who is to bear him a child. He was there to answer a charge of disturbing the peace, sworn to by Mrs. Minnie Savage. Mrs. Savage's daughter, Lois Savage, 19 years old, Who is the "other woman," stood beside her mother.

Engaged Three Years Ago

Branham and Lois Savage had been engaged three years ago. Mrs. Savage would not approve the match. They parted. Branham married.

Mrs. Savage, a small, alert woman with reddish hair, was the first to testify.

"For two years Lois and Branham have been meeting each other, in spite of his marriage. My daughter is crazy in love with a married man. I have pleaded with them both in vain.

"I became desperate and went to his office and horsewhipped him publicly there. That had no particular effect. He would send her presents, candy, flowers. He would telegraph her when she was away on visits."

Judge Edward J. Fleming turned to the girl, Lois Savage.

Wished to Marry Him, Anyway

"Judge, I love him," she said. "If he got a divorce today, I would marry him tomorrow."

"Don't you realize," Judge Fleming asked, "that he is the type who would throw you over, too?"

The girl looked up boldly.

"It would not matter."

Then the wife, Mrs. Branham, spoke calmly:

"I love my husband. That woman has been breaking up my home. My husband has been urging a divorce, but I don't wish one. Everything would be settled if it were not for that girl."

Mrs. Branham told of Lois Savage visiting her home and asking Mrs. Branham to give up her husband. The girl went to Branham's room, the wife said, took a picture of him from the wall, kissed and caressed it and took it with her when she left.

"Is that all true?" Judge Fleming asked Branham.

Wife Refused Him a Divorce

"Yes," Branham admitted. "I kept company with her even after I was married. I desire a divorce, but my wife refuses it."

"Your fine is $500," the court told Branham. "I'll parole you if you leave the girl alone. If not, jail for you."

Then Judge Fleming turned to Mrs. Savage.

"As for that daughter of yours," he said, "a whipping would be a good thing for her, too."

Branham was paroled when he promised, after court adjourned, to cease association with Lois. The girl, weeping, was led from the courtroom by her mother and brother. Outside the building she attempted to return to the courtroom.

"Please," she said, "let me tell Edward good-by — for the last time! Please!"

She started to take a diamond ring from her finger, then said:

"No, I'll keep it to remember him!"

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 3. *Note: These events took place in 1919, like maybe November. The Blade seems to put a current dateline on everything, the date they were putting the story in the newspaper.

What "Decimated" Means

1915

The French communique described the attacking Germans east of Rheims as having been "decimated." Many persons wonder whether the word was used in its strict sense, or in the looser fashion now too common, as signifying very heavy loss.

"Decimated" is, in fact, a much weaker word than many who employ it realize. It means only the loss of one in ten. The original "decimation" was the Roman military punishment of a number of soldiers who had been guilty of some joint crime. One-tenth were chosen by lot to be punished with death or some other penalty, the rest getting off with the substitution of barley for wheat in their rations.

That the punishment was not common in early Rome is shown by the fact that the verb "decimare" is post-Augustan; but an instance of the practice occurs as early as 470 B. C.


Rabbits Adopted By a Motherly Cat

1905

Glen Mallory of Athens, New York state, has a handsome cat which has mothered eight baby rabbits. She had recently raised a number of kittens, having had them, in a comfortable box in the cellar of the house.

When they were weaned and given away the cat, which has long been a great favorite in the house, owing to its sagacity, was restless and ill at ease. A few days ago she disappeared and in a couple of days returned. When she was found there were in the nest eight little bunnies, apparently well contented with the great care which she bestowed upon them.

Where she got them is a mystery, and her owner is curious to know whether she stole them from the nest of some rabbit or whether their own mother was recently bagged by some enterprising hunter.

Still in the Kindergarten

1905

Those Who Can Be Interested in Nothing That Is Not a "Game"

After an intelligent and watchful mother had sent her children to a famous kindergarten for several months she withdrew them because she found that they were being ruined by "getting the attitude of regarding everything as a game" — that is, instead of learning through games how to go about the serious business of life, they were learning to approach everything in the careless, make-believe spirit of play.

There is a hint in this for our colleges. There is a hint in it for all those who do puzzles, and play chess, and ride to hounds, and fool with rings and bars to develop their minds and bodies. The world is cursed with tens of thousands of human beings who have the best natural advantages, but can get up the steam of enthusiasm only for some "game" that is useless in its aim, and no more useful in its method, than its corresponding reality would be.

It is as certain as cause and effect that he who takes play seriously will take serious things playfully. — Saturday Evening Post.


Sour Expression Caused Divorce

Carrie Fields has been granted a divorce from Dr. L. S. Fields at Sanborn, Iowa, because the husband did not like her make of pancakes and ridiculed them. She testified that the expression upon the doctor's face when eating the cakes was such it might work permanent injury to her health.

Pats and Slaps

1909

People are sometimes "killed by kindness" — in books.

Charity is a cloak sometimes used to cover an amateur concert.

How did poor Eve manage to get along without complexion lotions?

Some women use a gallon of words to express a teaspoonful of thought.

When it comes to being charitable, most of us have wonderful self-control.

The income tax is popular with the majority because it only hits the minority.

And many a man does his growling at home because he is afraid to growl anywhere else.

Some people would be able to acquire a lot of knowledge if they didn't think they knew it all.

Nothing annoys the average woman more than to have a clerk try to hurry her along when she is shopping.

The dictionary doesn't say anything about the mother of ten children being a heroine, but that's just what she is.

"Old Moneybags is afraid that prince he bought for his daughter is a bogus one."
"Why so?"
"When it came to settling up he asked for the prince's debts, and the fellow told him he hadn't any."

Sapleigh — The doctor says there's something the matter with my head.
Sharp — You surely didn't pay a doctor, to tell you that!

"In places of trust women are said to be more honest than men."
"Why?"
"Oh, they have no women to steal for."

"Man was made to mourn," quoted the moralizer.
"Yes," rejoined the demoralizer, "and woman was made to see that he does it."

Oxpropylendlisoamylamine is the name of a new heart stimulant. The dose is one syllable three times a day after meals.

Should Mothers of War-Dead Be Sent To France?

1920

A Suggestion

Why shouldn't the Government give the next of kin — or mothers, at least — of American boys buried in France, asks the Stars and Stripes, a soldier's newspaper, the alternative of having the bodies returned or of visiting the graves?

The Government has pledged itself to bring back all bodies asked for by the next of kin. It will cost no more — probably less — to take a mother to France than to return the body of her son.

Many mothers are not so anxious to have the bodies returned as they are to have some visual evidence that their sons are buried in proper surroundings. In recognition of this desire the Red Cross has taken pictures of graves, to be sent to the mothers.

Wouldn't it be a graceful and grateful act on the part of the Government, for whom these mothers have made the supreme sacrifice of womanhood, to take them to the spot where their boys are sleeping beneath the little white crosses?


None Too Much

Down in Connecticut, says the Boston Post, the courts seem determined to do what they can to end the pernicious activities of the automobile thieves who flourish there as everywhere else. As earnest of this intent, one Walters, the recognized leader of a gang of accomplished snatchers of motor cars who have stolen $30,000 worth of the machines within a short time, was given a sentence of twenty-three years and nine months in prison. An accomplice drew fourteen years. The first mentioned is said to be a record sentence in Connecticut for this particular offense.

It is a record that should be emulated by other courts.

—Saturday Blade, Chicago, Feb. 28, 1920, p. 6.

Objects To Boys Sewing In School

Illinois, 1910

We received a very strong letter this week from a mother protesting against her boy being taught sewing in school when the time is needed to each branches more suitable for the scholars, at least the boys.

She says: "I think it's a shame. My son has to put two and three hours a week at sewing when they don't half know their arithmetic. John forgot to bring something to sew on this morning, so his teacher sent him home at 11:15 a.m. to get something to sew on, and as I was not at home he couldn't find anything, and when he went back to school again he forgot it. Well, his teacher got angry and shook him and sent him down to the principal. The principal sent him home, with a note and told him he couldn't come back to school again until his father came with him.

"I think it's an outrage in these civilized times to waste two and three hours a week at something they will never have any use for. I think every mother ought to sign a petition to have such nonsense stopped and to have that time devoted to the need of the times, which is business. I think it a shame taxpayers have to pay for such nonsense."

—Suburbanite Economist, Chicago, Oct. 28, 1910.


His Accent

An American-born girl was boasting of her English ancestry in public, and said: "Grandpa has lived in this country over 40 years, but he's just as English in his accent as when he went to Oxford; for instance," she added, "he still says horanges!" — Harper's Magazine.

Natural Act For Mother

1910

Women Understand That Not Heroism but Simply Love Prompted Self Sacrifice

A few days ago, in a somewhat squalid neighborhood, a house caught fire. The flames shot quickly through the litter on the floor and the untidy array of clothing on the walls. A woman talking with a neighbor ran screaming to the house and without an instant's hesitation sprang through the smoking doorway into what already seemed an inferno. A moment later she staggered out, her hands and face blackened and blistered and her clothing on fire. In her arms she bore her baby, safe from harm.

The afternoon papers came out with the story, printed under headlines extolling this mother's heroism. Men read it on street cars, and as their eyes gleamed with the stirring of the spirit which leaps to greet noble deeds they said: "That woman dared to do what most men would be afraid to do." But the mothers who read it at home did not think that way. Perhaps the danger to the baby, the wrecking of the home and the burns the woman suffered brought moisture to their eyes, but to them the act was not one of heroism — it was simply what any natural mother, no matter how timid, would do under the same circumstances. — Cleveland Leader.


Lengthening Her Stay

Little May wanted permission to go somewhere, and her mother asked her if she would slay just a little while. May replied: "I'll stay two whiles, mamma."

When a Man Marries He Marries Her Family

1915

Is He Supposed to Espouse Entire Family?

"Does a man marry his wife's family?" He claims he doesn't. But a prominent society woman declared not long ago that he does, no matter what he thinks about it, and more recently a prominent college professor made the same statement.

Looking around among one's acquaintances for evidence, it is a pretty general fact that the wife's family is more in evidence than the husband's. One hears more of the wife's kin, and the children seem to be better acquainted with relatives on the maternal side.

When mother's relatives come a-visiting they are made much of and given the run of the house. If any of father's relatives have the temerity to invite themselves for an extended visit there is a chill in the home atmosphere and nobody acts natural — least of all father, who is made to feel that he is imposing upon the good nature of his overworked spouse.

The wife's relatives feel that it is not only their right but their bounden duty to butt in, no matter what the circumstances. And usually the butt-in is accepted meekly and endured more or less amiably by the entire family. Any husband who is a gentleman will do his kicking away from home, or, if he cannot contain himself at the moment, go down and poke the furnace and commune with the cat.

And yet, on the whole, the wife's relatives seldom do the amount of damage that a husband's relatives can do, once they determine to make themselves felt.

When a husband's mother decides that his children are not being brought up right, or that his wife is extravagant or a poor housekeeper, etc., and that her interference is necessary, real trouble starts, not only for the man's wife but even more so for the man himself. His mother-in-law would never dare to attempt what his own mother will do to him.

The wife may have a ne'er-do-well brother who occasionally comes and camps upon her hospitality. But if the husband has such a brother, nine times in ten the brother has married and expects his more prosperous relatives to support a wife and numerous progeny.

As for fathers-in-law on both sides — they don't count appreciably. By the time a man becomes a father-in-law he has been so well-trained into his proper sphere that he wisely refuses to mix in any kind of family affairs that do not concern his finances. Anyway, there is usually a chord of sympathetic understanding between a man and his father-in-law, while every wife knows the wiles that will bind her father-in-law to her for ever and aye. — Philadelphia Bulletin.

The Lullaby Song Mother Used To Sing

1911

The Lullaby Song

Some time ago a western contemporary gave utterance to this practical, prosaic and unemotional declaration: "Another very pretty sentiment that should be exploded is the lullaby song. Did your mother rock you to sleep and sing while doing it, and you recall the song? As a rule, a woman has so many children they are hustled off to bed without being rocked, and what mother ever knew a lullaby from start to finish?"

There are some things that are too sacred for alleged humor or wit and the above is an instance in point, as there are many who will not accept it as either, for as observed by an exchange there are those whose years have exiled them to dreamland, who can call up tender recollections of childhood and remember the songs that mother used to sing.

There are plenty of old men living who had mothers who could sing in low, tender, though uncultivated, tones the lullaby song, and its melody is still enshrined in the heart and thrills in memory. The old man of German stock especially can remember the simple folk song of the Fatherland that his mother sang above his cradle. Long ago its music came from over the sea, and at last has incorporated in the runic rhymes the old colored nurse crooned or warbled to woo sleep to infantile eyelids.

It may be that in later years we have been privileged to hear the great voices of the day. But all their grand arias never so touched our hearts as when in an encore they gave us a melody that had been dedicated to babyland and which thousands of mothers had sung to the cradle's rocker beating time.

It is strange what a hold these simple melodies of childhood retain in a life, however long, however filled with changes and vicissitude. There is something in their joys though they be ever so fleeting, that remains indelible. Every now and then, in quiet hours, the heart will hark back over the intervening years and remember it with reverence. And who will say that we are not better men and women for such moments of reflection, even though they do bring back the sound of voices that have long been silent, and the touch of hands that are dust?

And can you recall the song? Of course! You hear the familiar notes again in the midst of other surroundings, and instantly the scene is changed about you. You are a child again, just for a moment, and you look up, as you did in days gone by, into a face you love — oh, it may be aged and wrinkled and homely now, but it's still to you the sweetest face in the world.

You look again into eyes that are eloquent with a mother's unspeakable love — the purest, sweetest, holiest feeling the human heart may know. You feel again the comforting presence of her who guided your first uncertain footsteps, who heard you lisp your first little words, and whose tender solicitude for you has never ceased in all these years.

Can you recall the song? A generation may have passed since you heard it. Perhaps, in the corner of some quiet churchyard the singer lies asleep. Years and experience may have come upon you since you heard it last from her dear lips. Scenes may have changed, and your feet have wandered far since then; but never, never have you forgotten.

Life has brought you discords, but they can't erase it. After it may have come the other songs of other days. but the echo of those earlier ones is with you always. Childhood can never die.

No, do not tell us that the lullabies have gone out of fashion, after all these ages in which they have been sung over cradle and couch, in hovel and palace, and been remembered by millions in whose hearts remained an echo and a light of other days. The childhood that never heard a mother's lullaby is not apt to have a manhood of wholesome sentiment or that reverence for womankind which ennobles the heart and uplifts the soul.

—The Mansfield News, Mansfield, Ohio, Feb. 28, 1911, p. 6.

A Puppy Adopts a Brood of Chickens

1896

Rather a pathetic story comes from a small town on the outskirts of Philadelphia, the truthfulness of which is vouched for by a prominent citizen of the place.

This P. C. is an extensive chicken raiser, and some time since set a favorite hen upon a nest of eggs, expecting them to hatch in the usual period of three weeks. Three, four and five weeks passed and no chickens, and it was not until the end of the sixth week that the new poultry appeared, but with them came the demise of the old hen, presumably as a result of her unusually long continued sedentary occupation.

The chicks, not knowing, of course, that their mother was dead, attempted to crawl under her wings and keep warm. Their owner, seeing the trouble they were in, pressed a small Newfoundland pup into service, and, placing it in a closed coop, put the chicks in after. The soft fur of the pup made a pleasant retreat for the little ones, and now pup and poultry are inseparable. — Philadelphia Call.

Mother Love (poetry)

1888

Mother Love

Ah, babe, with feet so soft and pink,
How oft does mother sadly think
That you will walk, perchance may fall
On life's rough path, and to your call
Among the crowd — but mother's hand
Will raise you, soothe and help you stand.

Those baby feet, those little toes,
To tread a path that no one knows;
If mother only could — and knew,
She'd tread the path ahead of you,
And smooth it to the very end,
Till Heav'n and earth together blend.

Ah, babe, with feet now held and press'd,
To think that you have never guessed
That when your feet are aching sore,
A mother's heart is hurt much more,
And when the path's so rough to trod,
A mother knows they lead to God.

Ah, babe, with feet now soft and warm,
Full soon to meet life's calm and storm,
And 'mid the struggle not to know
That mother never'll let you go
From out her heart — until the call,
Then yields to God her child — her all.

—Alice S. Webber, in Good Housekeeping.

Embalmer's Knife Flashing, Mom Insists Son "Alive"; He is!

Rhode Island, 1888

COFFINED, BUT ALIVE

Story of a Man Who had a Narrow Escape from Premature Burial

Mauly Z. Corwin, of Providence, R. I., has enjoyed the sensation of being coffined and prepared for burial, says the Boston Globe. But for an accident he would have been embalmed. He lives on Smith's hill, and is a carpenter by trade. Some years ago he was at work on the roof of a three-story house, and had a sun-stroke. Falling at his work, he rolled down the sloping roof and fell, an inert mass, to the street below. He was picked up and conveyed to the office of the nearest medical man, who pronounced him dead. An undertaker was sent for, and soon his assistants were measuring the corpse and making preparations for the embalming process, which was considered necessary for preserving the body for the funeral.

That evening a casket arrived with the name of the deceased, age and manner of death engraved on a silver plate.

After the body had been coffined and the room cleared, Mrs. Corwin, the mother, arrived, and, while laying her head upon his breast, she fancied she detected a motion of the heart. Another doctor was sent for, who, after making a stethoscopic examination, confirmed the opinion of the other physician, and declared life to be extinct.

The weeping mother was led from the apartment, and the watchers awaited the coming of the embalmer. The man was delayed so long that when he arrived the family requested him to postpone making the incision until the following morning.

The morning found the loving and disconsolate mother at her son's bier again, and again did the maternal instinct within her tell her that her boy was not dead, but sleeping. The embalmer came and displayed his instruments for opening the veins and for eviscerating the deceased. Then the mother refused to allow the operation. In vain they urged her to accept the verdict of medical science, but she refused to budge, and, throwing her body across that of her son, she declared she would not leave his presence until all doubt was ended. The weather was fearfully hot, and it was expected that the condition of the corpse would be unendurable by the next night, but it was not, nor the next night, and then some weight was attached to the old lady's belief. More doctors came, other examinations were made, and at the end of the sixth day a slight pulsation was felt.

The man was alive beyond all doubt.

The house swarmed with physicians after that. They came from New York, from Boston and from Philadelphia, and all agreed that the vital spark had not left the body, although how to fan it into a life-sustaining flame was a question not so easily settled. Various expedients were resorted to, and on the fifteenth day the "corpse" opened an eye. After that the man's recovery was but a question of time. To-day he is at work, a better and stronger man than he ever was, and the silver plate on his coffin, framed in crimson plush, adorns his parlor.

—St. Joseph Herald, Saint Joseph, Michigan, April 28, 1888, p. 5.