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utterly unable to realize my loss. Anne and Mary Emma
came with Albert about ten o'clock, and just about that time
Stan reached Brooklyn whither he had gone to bear the
sad news to Harriet __ We retired late __ I slept from very
weariness, and as if in mockery my dreams were what they seldom are
at any other time -- of gayety and mirth and I would
start from my slumber horrified at the thought: __ in every
one Natty appeared as he was wont to do in his days of
health and gladness, with the sparkle of joy in his eyes, and
the flash of wit, and the kiss of affection on his dewy lips.
How dreadful it was to awake, and feel how different was
the reality. With the dawn the sobs that I could not restrain
awoke Carrie and Annie who slept with me and we all wept
together -- it seemed more than I could bear, and restless
with pain I arose and paced the room and hall long before
I could think of dressing. How clearly the morning rays
brought back the recollection of him -- his was the first
voice I used to hear at that hour and it was was his
own sweet tones that called me to greet returning day.
That voice, that step, it seemed as though I could hear them
still, but I knew they would come no more. When at last
I dressed I went first to Mother's room, she had not yet arisen
but lay with her face buried in the pillow; __ when I spok
to her how mournfully patient was the sad face that was turned
toward me with sorrow written in every lineament. Father was
up and appeared perfectly calm He in whom he had trusted
had not forsaken him in the hour of trial. __ 'Twas a stricken
family that bowed together that morning at the altar of prayer
and every heart was heavy and every eye was dimmed __ our grief
was quiet and subdued, but deep and bitter -- it was only