Chapter III: Jotham's Death

"I HAD seated Mrs. Frost on the sofa, and Jotham was near her with his arm around her waist. I waited in wonder the explanation of all this, for now I saw that the widow's face bore the marks of excessive grief."

"While we delayed for the children, Mr. Dobbs walked to the window, and again was that hollow cough which struck like a death-knell on my heart."

"'Wife,' he began, when they entered, 'last night you heard me ask God for help. He has heard my prayer. I had enlisted in the service of my country, but had become already aware that I never could endure camp life; then came the dreadful announcement that unless I could give personal and untiring attention to my business, all the savings of my life would be lost. I went to the commanding officer and tried to be released, for a time if no more; but this was impossible. Cavalry were needed, and we must proceed to Washington at once. I came home with a heavy heart. I went to bed and tried to bear up under the burden like a man. Then I remembered that as a Christian I was not obliged to bear it alone. I fell on my knees and besought my Saviour to help me. While I was speaking he heard me. He put it into the heart of this dear boy to offer himself as my substitute. While I was sleeping quietly, he was pleading with his widowed mother to consent that he should leave her. He is her all; and is it strange that for a long time she refused?'"

"Mrs. Frost had been weeping silently all the time my husband spoke; now she cried aloud."

"Jotham tried to soothe her. 'Keep up good courage, mother,' he said. 'You'll live to see me a colonel yet. The war wont last forever, and I shall be a great man when I come home. Mr. Dobbs has promised to take care of you while I'm gone.'"

"And then my husband called us all to witness that he would provide for the widowed mother, as long as God gave him the ability. I gladly joined in the promise. I need not stop to tell you more of that scene. Mr. Dobbs gave Jotham the black mare, and all his outfit. He joined the regiment of cavalry at once. His only charge being as he rode away, 'Take good care of mother till I come home!'"

"Mr. Dobbs and I rode to L—, to see them off, and I thought there was no one in the company who looked so handsome in his uniform, or rode his horse so proudly as Jotham."

"Mrs. Frost, who could not be persuaded to accompany us, lest she should always dream of him in battle, tried, for our sakes, to appear cheerful. She insisted that she was happier at home where everything reminded her of him, than she should be to come here."

"Every night, either Jane or I used to go down to her cottage and read the papers. If there was anything concerning the regiment of cavalry to which Jotham belonged, she would cut it out and lay it between the leaves of her large family Bible."

Mrs. Dobbs paused as if reluctant to proceed, while Helen who had been stealthily wiping the tears from her eyes, exclaimed,—

"Oh, I'm afraid Jotham is dead!"

"Every week," continued the lady with a sigh, "the widow received a letter from her son. He was well, and enjoying himself exceedingly. He said that he had never for one moment regretted offering himself as a substitute; that his heart was set on going to the war, and if he had not done it then, he should later."

"Mr. Dobbs wrote the commanding officer, with whom he was well acquainted, and received an answer that Jotham's conduct was unexceptionable; that on the Sabbath when many of the soldiers were strolling about, he was in his tent reading his Bible, or with a few congenial companions singing hymns."

"At last there came the news of a terrible battle. My husband opened the paper in the city, read that the — regiment of cavalry were engaged, and turned, with almost suspended breath, to the list of killed and wounded. Alas, he saw it too soon! There it was, '—Cavalry, Jotham Frost.' The thought of the poor mother overcame him. Oh, what a comfort it was in that hour of sorrow, that for the early lost there was no occasion to mourn! He was safe at home, resting forever in the bosom of his God. He had fought his fight, and gone to receive his reward."

"Mr. Dobbs came home at once, and went alone to communicate the sad tale. The widow clasped her hands, and gave one shriek of agony, exclaiming, 'I knew it, I felt it. I was sure I should never see him again!' From that time to this she has never known a well day. The sorrow pierced to her very heart. Do you wonder, Helen, that we are anxious to do everything for her comfort? Do you wonder that we try to bear with her little failings, and to make her path to the grave as easy and comfortable as is in our power? She has sacrificed her all to us, for my husband would never have let Jotham go without his mother's consent. Is it too much for us to share our home with her, to soothe her grief, to bear patiently with her feeble wailings—the wailings of a broken heart?"

How could Helen find words to reply? Her conscience had condemned her loudly in the morning; and now her heart bitterly reproached her for adding to the burden of one who had already suffered so much. Her head drooped upon her breast as she thought, "What would Mrs. Dobbs, what would her husband, say of me if they knew how I had treated the old woman?"

"Only think!" cried Jennie, "but for her I might now be without a father."

Helen burst into tears, and ran quickly, from the room.

The next morning when Mrs. Dobbs went to inquire how the invalid passed the night, she found the young visitor lingering near the door of the sick room.

"I should like to see Mrs. Frost," she began, in a confused manner, her cheeks glowing like fire. "Can I go in a minute?"

"Oh, yes!" answered the lady, with a smile.

Helen walked straight to the bed, and hiding her face in her hands, said quickly, "I am sorry I said that to you the other day; I didn't know then—I hadn't heard—about—Jotham." With a convulsive movement of the throat to keep, back the sobs, she went on: "If Mrs. Dobbs will let me, I should like to stay by you and take care of you, and love you for Jotham's sake."

The old woman grew very pale, but answered calmly, "I am glad for your own sake that you are sorry; but you have done me good. My grief was making me selfish. You told me plainly how disagreeable my conduct made me appear, and I determined, God helping me, I would show out the gratitude that is in my heart toward this dear family. Now, my child, you may read me a few verses from the good Book, and then I must rest."

From this time Helen and Jane vied with each other who could do most for the comfort of grandma. Helen was wholly unused to sickness, and was often awkward in her services; but all saw that her heart was touched, and her kind friend hoped the lesson would be of great benefit to her through life.

Certainly, during her visit, she, for the first time, learned the secret of true happiness. The sacrifice of our own wishes to the comfort of others brings a rich reward to our own hearts.

"O Jennie!" exclaimed the impulsive girl, clasping her arms around her friend's neck; "how quickly the summer has passed; and how pleasantly, since that dreadful time when grandma was so ill. How differently I feel toward her from what I did when I first came. I love her now almost more than anybody else."

"Yes, my dear," remarked Mrs. Dobbs, "because with her is connected the consciousness of having done right."

The Hospital.