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Page 64
"'It seems to me sometimes as if I should die if I can't get that
awful little white robe off that child and get her in some clothes
and feed her and stop her looking for her mother,' I heard her say
once, and she was in earnest. She cried when she said it. That
wasn't long before she died.
"Now I am coming to the strangest part of it all. Mrs. Bird died
very sudden. One morning--it was Saturday, and there wasn't any
school--I went downstairs to breakfast, and Mrs. Bird wasn't there;
there was nobody but Mrs. Dennison. She was pouring out the coffee
when I came in. 'Why, where's Mrs. Bird?' says I.
"'Abby ain't feeling very well this morning,' says she; 'there
isn't much the matter, I guess, but she didn't sleep very well, and
her head aches, and she's sort of chilly, and I told her I thought
she'd better stay in bed till the house gets warm.' It was a very
cold morning.
"'Maybe she's got cold,' says I.
"'Yes, I guess she has,' says Mrs. Dennison. 'I guess she's got
cold. She'll be up before long. Abby ain't one to stay in bed a
minute longer than she can help.'
"Well, we went on eating our breakfast, and all at once a shadow
flickered across one wall of the room and over the ceiling the way
a shadow will sometimes when somebody passes the window outside.
Mrs. Dennison and I both looked up, then out of the window; then
Mrs. Dennison she gives a scream.
"'Why, Abby's crazy!' says she. 'There she is out this bitter cold
morning, and--and--' She didn't finish, but she meant the child.
For we were both looking out, and we saw, as plain as we ever saw
anything in our lives, Mrs. Abby Bird walking off over the white
snow-path with that child holding fast to her hand, nestling close
to her as if she had found her own mother.
"'She's dead,' says Mrs. Dennison, clutching hold of me hard.
'She's dead; my sister is dead!'
"She was. We hurried upstairs as fast as we could go, and she was
dead in her bed, and smiling as if she was dreaming, and one arm
and hand was stretched out as if something had hold of it; and it
couldn't be straightened even at the last--it lay out over her
casket at the funeral."
"Was the child ever seen again?" asked Mrs. Emerson in a shaking
voice.
"No," replied Mrs. Meserve; "that child was never seen again after
she went out of the yard with Mrs. Bird."
End of Project Gutenberg Etext of Stories Of The Supernatural by Wilkins
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