The World As I Have Found It | Page 8

travel this winter, and
will need all thy money; so thee does not owe me anything."
Choking with grateful emotion, as soon as I could command control I
said: "Doctor, I could not expect you to give me such kind attention
without remuneration, but since you have so willed it, I can only say I
thank you for having saved my life." Whereupon there came the same
luminous look, and the gentle voice said: "Mary, it was not I that saved
thy life; it was thy Heavenly Father."
As soon as I was well enough to ride he made arrangements for me to
visit his house. I took the street car, but by pre-arranged plan, he met
me at his door, lifted me from the car, and carried me in his arms into a
luxurious bed-chamber, where I was met by the sweet-voiced Rachel,
who gave me a reviving draught of rare old wine, and in every way
studied my wants during the day's visit, after which the Doctor drove
me home in his carriage.
How do our hearts go out in gratitude to such true and loving natures,
and how fondly do we recall in after years the sweet sounds of

sympathy, whose melody pervades life's measured music.
Once again I found myself in Baltimore, where I received a letter from
my brother William, urging me to spend the winter at his home in
Pecatonica, Ill. This, together with a meeting with my cousin Sammy
Heald, determined me to go West. My cousin was about to visit Iowa
City, Iowa, where dwelt his betrothed, and he offered to pay all my
traveling expenses if I would accompany him. The temptation of seeing
one from whom there had been an eight years separation made my
cousin's entreaties irresistible, and I yielded, receiving from him all the
devoted attendance his kind nature could dictate. So, after the lapse of
so many eventful years, I turned my face westward. I spent the winter
at the home of my brother, and shall never forget his kindness and that
of his family, as well as other residents of Pecatonica, who did so much
to lighten the leaden-winged hours, which, in a little hamlet, drag so
slowly in comparison with the din and bustle of city life, and the
excitement of business and travel.

CHAPTER VIII.
"So where'er I turn my eyes, Back upon the days gone by, Saddening
thoughts of friends come o'er me; Friends who closed their course
before me, Yet what links us friend to friend, But that soul with soul
can blend. Love-like were those hours of yore, Let us walk in soul once
more."
The dreary winter had passed away, one in sad contrast with the mild
southern season, and known only to those who have realized its storms
and wind and snow.
The birds of spring were caroling their first songs of the season, and the
white mantle of snow disappearing under the sun-rays. These tokens
told me I must be "up and doing." Selecting a companion among the
kind group of Pecatonica friends, Miss Sarah Rogers, a lady of sterling
virtue and pronounced character, I went to Chicago. The war conflict
being still at its height, I could do little in the way of book selling, but

managed to dispose of sufficient bead work to be entirely
self-sustaining. In my business route in Chicago I entered a millinery
establishment, and was surprised by a greeting from the familiar voice
of my sister Jennie, and they alone who are members of a scattered
household can realize what must be such a meeting. In the lapse of
years since our separation, our paths had so diverged that we had lost
trace of each other. I sat down and eagerly listened to a recital of an
experience fraught with varied incident. They had moved from Chicago
to Monroe city, Missouri, a place which (as most will remember)
received the baptism of fire, being utterly destroyed by the Northern
troops. My sister not only lost her home, but was separated from her
family for several days. As soon as they were gathered together, and
had gained sufficient strength to travel, they returned without a
resource to Chicago, there to begin life anew, my sister lending a
helping hand by opening this business. Her daughter Cora, whom I had
left a little girl, was then a graceful young lady, has since married and
is living in the city.
My brothers, Charles and Howard, both entered the ranks of the army,
returned with health impaired from service, and afterward yielded up
their lives.
My father had settled with his new family at Farmington, Ill., and
thither my brother Howard repaired when utterly broken down in health.
No mother could have more tenderly and steadfastly ministered