This Bible was carried all through the Kansas troubles by Oliver Brown.
- Within the book of Judes Chapter XX, an undated, un-sourced newspaper clipping of a lovely poem called “After the Funeral” I have transcribed it at the end of this posting. On the reverse of the poem are news bites from a California paper. I was not able to find any of the articles on-line.
- Within the book of II Chronicles, chapter XXIV, an undated, un-sourced newspaper clipping of a strange little petition (poem) that begins “My little boy, six years of age, brought me yesterday a ‘reward of merit’ from his teacher….”. I have transcribed it at the end of this posting also. On the reverse of the petition are reviews of 2 newly published books. I looked up “Double Play: or, How Joe Hardy Chose His Friends” by William Everett and found that it was published in 1871.
- Also in II Chronicles, chapter XXIV, a scrap of lined stenopad paper with 1 Kings 8:5-6 written on it. The handwritting looks like it could be my grandmothers? The verses read: “And King Soloman and all the congretation of Israell, that were assembled unto him, were with him before the ark, scrafincing sheep and oxen, that could not be told nor numbered for multitude. And the Priests brought in the ark of the covenant of the LORD unto his place, into the oracle of the house, to the most holy place, even under the wings of the cherubims.”
- Within the book of Psalms, chapter LXXXIII, is a 1-inch square piece of perferated paper cross-stitched with a cross and ivy. I do not know who did the cross-stitching. Perforated paper cross-stitching became popular in the mid 1800s in America.
- Within the book of St. John, chapter XVI, is another scrap of lined paper with Acts 1:4 written on it. Again, the writing looks very similar to my grandmothers.“And, being assembled together with them, commanded them that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which, saith he, ye have heard of me.”
- Within the book of Romans, chapter XV, is a scrap of fabric, a rough triangle 3-inches by 1 1/2 inches, grey with tiny black cross shapes. Is there some sinifigance to this scrap of fabric – is it a piece from a much loved dress? A blouse? A tie? A dolls blanket? Or was it just something handy to use as a book mark?
- Within the book of I Corinthians, chapter XV, is a small collection envelope. The front of the envelope reads: “For Our Vacation Church School. This school is open to all boys and girls without tuition fee. The cost however and average of operating the scholl is about twenty-five cents a week for each pupil, On Thursday of each week an opportunity to given the partents to contribute to this fund as they feel able. FREE WILL OFFERING – BRING TO SCHOOL FRIDAY” I have no idea what church this is from or the date it was acquired.
- Within the book of Ephesians, chapter III, is a small piece of pinkish paper with a fortune. It reads “A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger. – Prov. XV, I.”
AFTER THE FUNERAL
How can I pass this night of loneliness,
Of Sorrow, and or rest that is not rest?
How can I teach my restless arms to know
There is no chold to slumber on my breast?
How can I, with the waiting cradle near,
Teach my poor hear that baby is not here?
Oh! in the world there are this very night
Mothers whose arms are full of happiness!
And dainty cribs, whose pillows white as snow
Many a little golden head doth press.
And there are lullibies, sweet lullabies,
To woo soft slumber into baby-eyes.
And I – it is not very long ago –
Ah me! not long ago since also I
Could take my little child within my arms.
And sing with happy heart a lullaby,
While near my side the cradle-pillow white
Waited it tiny burden for the night.
Last night. Oh! sad last night! and little one
Was still with me, but not upon my breast.
I only knelt beside the little crib
And wept because my darling in her rest
Was whiter than the snow, and still, and cold!
The baby whom I never more should hold.
To-day they laid her ‘neath the daisied ground
Oh, God! to think that she is sleeping there,
Beyond the reach of loving mother-arms!
Beyond the reach of mother’s warchful care
Back to my arms their loving burden bring:
Once more my lips their slumber song would
A Petition, with this prefix: “My little boy, six years of age, brought me yesterday a ‘reward of merit’ from his teacher, and said ‘Little mamma, keep my ticket for me; and If I ask God every night to make me good, I’ll get another next week – won’t I?’“Oh, mamma!” (and he gently came and nestled at my side). “Dear mamma, keep my ticket, and be very sure you hide it, please, where naughty fingers cannot find it to destroy.” And his arms were clasped around me, my gentle, noble boy.“And, mamma, – little mamma,” (and his voice to wishpers grew,) “if I’ll be good to Johnnie, to my papa, and to you, – “If I’ll ‘notice little sister,’ and ‘member ’bout my hat, will I get another ticket, say, mamma, just like that?“And say my ‘Now I lay me,’ very slow, and always let my brother have the nicest place, and kiss you ‘fore I get in my trundle near the cradle, where little sister lies, I’ll get another ticket if I’m good? You know I tries.”As I clasped him to my bosom, the tears my eyelids wet: I told my boy of Jesus, and I bade him ne’er forget that He loved good little children. “Pray, darling, while He’s near: Ask Him to make you ‘good,’ my child: He turns no deaf’ning ear.”Father, I tremble often as I meet these earnest eyes: through the burden’s sweet, ’tis heavy: to nurture such a prize. As this, fair, pure, spotless child, I must pure and spotless be: Help, Father, that I bring It unpolluted unto Thee.
Thou, “who gavest to my guiding hand this wand’rer” to lead through paths that oft are lone and dark, where feet so often bleed, bruised and pierced by cruel thorns, oh, leave me not alone. To guide him to those gates of pearl, Thou he must lean upon.