Sterling Standard from Sterling, Illinois on October 16, 1928 · Page 14
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Sterling Standard from Sterling, Illinois · Page 14

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Sterling, Illinois
Issue Date:
Tuesday, October 16, 1928
Page:
Page 14
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H thst :*t n Urn*. The a* tmrw MABEL MOORE, Syfelf* fri*'?*^. feff» tiff to ha-w n*llites ** rtn with JeSin. Shf fe*«»*«h« I I* think of IHUt T»4«f— «nil ef CRAIO NEWHALU U»* tonljr m»n In tht wcn-M. Cm If h«« Srhll Bat Sybil »t MabeV* I thftt night te t*» krpp from Ftrnklnj hrr, *nd l*lk» t,t UHlt KITTY l« flanre*. him hcj-nntl si! Arss! hf takM hrr roughly In h\9 her The telephone rinjpe. It Is Mattel M<wrp, to tell Sybil! th*t T«My In rick. ..Sybil leave* John, lovs for her baby, and she n?vrr want* lo w>* him When she trachei hems?, h*r mother and Mabel and VALERIE, hpr slslcr-ln-law, are In tm.ru. Horn* thin* tflls her that Teddy has NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY. CHAPTER XLVII. Sybil sat up on the bed. She passed her hand dazedly across her forehead, and her eyes were wide with horror. Tad leaned over the footboard, and her mother sfet beside her, chafing her hands. Mabel was standing beside Tad, and Valerie stood in the door with a bottle of brandy in her hand, and tears running down her pale cheeks. Her mother's eyes were red and swollen. Wildly Sybil searched their grieving faces. "He's dead," she said. "My baby's dead." Mabel came and stood beside her, and touched her gently. "Mab, do you remember . . . this afternoon ..." Sybil raised dry, dreadful eyes and looked at Mabel like a woman bereft of her senses. "You said—if you had — a child . .-.--like Teddy ..." ••Sybil! Don't dear. There was nothing you could do." Tenderly Mabel stroked her hair. "Tell me, Mab—what happened," They tiptoed from the room then, quietly, as people steal from death and sorrow. And Mabel, taking Sybil's hand, told of the night's stark tragedy. . • * » * • I went, Mab, to meet John Lawrence." "Sh. dear — it doesn't make any difference. You know the little cricket he loves to Bland on—he dragged that over to the window on Elm street. We think he must have stood on it—and then—Oh, my dear, your poor mother blames herself s»o ~ the floor in Teddy's room was waxed this morning. It was dreadfully slippedy. And the little cricket tlid. Teddy's pajamas caught on the curtain hook — oh, Sybil—my poor, poor Sybil!" "He was hanged, Mabel? My baby was hanged?" "But the doctor says it didn't hurt, darling. The little neckband _was Dulled, i* 1 A.-iingle..-yank—.light like a noose. Ah. Sybil—it's YOU I'm crying for, dear. Teddy's all right now. His hurt was just a second—but you—oh. God help you!" "My baby "hanged!" Mabel cringed. "Oh, don't." she implored, "say that dreadful word again!" "Did he scream. Mab? How did they know?" "No, he didn't scream. Your mother was sewing in her room — there wasn't a sound. They didn't know until Val peeked In Teddy's rootn on her way to bed. She saw his crib empty—*nd—Teddy over at the window. She spoke to him first. The room was dark, of course. _.'Amf-lfaea- she -switched oa^the lights—poor Valerie." "My baby was watching for me, Mab. Looking out the window to &e* me coming. I hanged him. I hanged my baby because I stayed with John Lawrence," Tears rolled down Mabels, pale cheeks, and she hunched her shoulder abstractedly to wipe them from her chin. "You mustn't talk like that. Sybil. We think Teddy woke up and saw the snow flakes under the street light at the corner. You Juiow there was quite a flurry this evening. He must have been wide **ake with exciteaitat. But he was quiet as a little mouse. He tiptoed over to the fireplace for the cricket, and stole very totily to the window with it. "Your mother wys if there'd been a sound, she'd have licard it. Site's teaken-hearted. Sybil. So is Ted You know we couldn't have loved Teddy any more—any of us—if he'd beea our o«n little" boy." "I want to go m and see him. Mabel." "Wot tonight, Sybil." • **Yct~~i»ow. I want to tee my ' t think." s*ld Sybil, as upon h*r child. "th«u lit* ir, J5* a!on«», T*d—THtdv •nd I. L«*; m» kl*s him fir«.t. Tod Then you m*y WM him. , . . K.ls; hU chf*k, Tad. ... I'd lik* you to }?M.vt hi* lips for mf. . . Just for mf. Tad . . . h*c*us» }i*'s my little boy, . . . And I can't ever kiss him* any mer* All mornlni Sybil sat •with her dead child. And hfr mother und Valerie ftnd Tad stood at th» dosed door while »he sang to him. and her song tore at thtir hesrt By and by Mabel came with Jack • nd- they stolf. too, to the nursery door . . . and turned away, they could not hear to listen. « * » Half th<» day Sybil hrld h«r non in her arms. And his little body grew warm with the warmth of hers, and his straight small arms and legs grew soft. And the stiffness left hl» HtUe fingers, when she rubbed them, so that they curled about hers. And his hand lay like crumpled rose petals against her clieek. when she held It there. His whole body grew tender and almost rosy as she cradled It in her arms so that the child was care In death. and ethereal, like a baby angel without any wings, and golden curb for a halo Sybil told him stories and sang him lullabies, "Sail, Baby, sail — out across the sea. Only don't forget to sail . . back again . . to me." "Humor her ."'the doctor had told them. "Something may snap, If we ate not very careful." So they did what she asked them when she tiptoed from the room that afternoon. "Bring me the little green panties," she commanded, "and Teddy's white linen blouse. I don't want him wearing his pajamas all day. . And where are his play shoes, Mother?" Valerie pressed the blouse and on a missing button. Mrs. Thorne moistened the shabby little play shoes with her tears, and klsesd the scufled-out toes. "Poor Sybil," they whispered to one another, "She'll never get over this." With aching hearts they brought her everything for which she asked and left her with their darling, to dress him in his pretty best, and keep him warm and soft. The next day was cold and stormy, A smell white casket came tor Teddy. And. because the wind howled and the sky was gray, Sybil dressed him warmly. "The little red teddy bear suit, Val, with his red cap. And the mittens Mother knit for Christmas. And yet me his overshoes—and the turry puppy dog he loved so much. [ want to tuck it under his arm like he used to carry it. And the choo-choo train Tad gave him. I'll put that at his feet. Oh, a graham cracker, too, Val — Teddy almost always had one in his hand." When she had clothed him for Lhe long Journey. Tad lifted him tenderly, In his brave red suit, and placed him in the casket, and laid him in the nursery, with his toys around him. And they all sat about, and talked in whispers of the darling things he'd done and said, and the beautiful child he was. • * • Tliat afternoon they buried him, while the sun shone miraculously, as If to warm the spot where they laid him. And a procession of white, puffy clouds, like a flock of sheep,' strayed up from the pastures behind the cemetery. So that Sybil thought of the way Teddy was learning to count . . ; Sheep Jumping over a fence, every night as he lay in his little crib. . . . "One-t-wo-three-four-five — what comes next. Muvver?" She looked up into the skies. White, puffy clouds, like kind sheejj, come to put Teddy to sleep. . ;. -.„--. .-- Sybil dropped anemones on her baby's casket, and scattered over it the white violets that Mab*! brought. There were Valerie and Tad, and Mabel and Jack. Mrs. Thorne stayed away. They lelt h*r i-in the sunny nursery among; Teddy's playthings, white- lipped and dry-eyed — keeping up for SyblL When they reached home she had hot chocolate for them, and sandwiches. They ate dutifully and mournfully, painfully conscious that Teddy's little high chair had disappeared from the corner where it always stood, and his silver mug and pewter porringer also. Sybil sipped her chocolate apathetically. "No more cracker crumbs," she said mournfully, "No more cracker crumbs on your nie« Oriental rugs, Mother. No mote &mud$y finger marks on your lavely while paint." She dropped her heard in hex hands. <Y» Ee <ls there anything in life left for Sy&Uf Tto* coBsbKWag chapter brfis*a her to the Harbor of Heart's her icy hwti* hsid tbea» wwnaJy. fee* i* «tec*,-4t«r. AH swoitea. You d^-j him bite Out In th» SytoH-U will b* &lt « Tbaw Birthday Party ..... . CUI > .~-««iur4»y #? Mm, .Harold Hoff. u&sm of toe^& -cauie to spead ttw" *1Ut hw. Mrs. tot ft OOwr Be COAVtN 1CK EOO^E. A CHOCK" t ME * fwfnWFIt/fc AM DOAN «,TCALIM' m e p 0 ar. // Oir%C- r ^\ /•. ! Child Chri*.t- ChH«t. ms rt«>rfr k mi Act; WrfH-Tffc: A»P "\ OF A MA<3MSFViM<3 <3MSS/-*" WodLP r -frtAt OUe TUBA FARt OF A INFORMS YIBA OF TO Ad"/ SALESMAN SAM Page The Postmaster , I VJROTE. f»T LEAST Five! oe- To 1 . wtH.l GOT oer &UT I Cfttf-T OMVOO'Re , OIPM'T PUBLIC TeLCPHOME FEECKUS& AND HIS FEIEMDI Zoo Is Lucky By Blosser \X&. MISSED 6080-7WAT VwASTWE SWELL,! 6UESS 70 LET 8OBO 6O ALOMS - TttJAifiTD DO*:COAMM6 A6BE AFTER r6AS!£ SOD TO 7W£ ZOO MOWERE YOU'D MAMS LOTS OP AAV SW/ATTWE 60 HATE 70 SEE. GO." PLACE TO LNE.' BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES WHX O\O vT TK4C1 H\M Mrs. Snoop Stira Up The W&tcrs MOM'H P01 P01P6SE M4 To tfeU SOU 1 I SAM AMO Stmg AOCWH1S. VCti.TUt CUOOSB A "ft* goov M TUE I StTTiE UP WITH MIM Hi U, HAVE A SO&f H&«> AS ANV PUCf CWOOSES

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