Salt-Lake fruit; a Latter-day romance

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1889 edition. Excerpt: ... and, telling the driver he would be paid treble if he made speed, drove to the first doctor's. Taking the physician with him, they reached Mr. Berry's house before the arrival of the other doctor. In the darkened parlor, on the floor, lay three dripping bodies, the water in little pools around them, and the terrified servants trying, without effect, what restoratives they knew. Looking down on his boy was the father. Not a sound from his lips, not a muscle moved. He was like one struck dead. Hardly glancing at the others, John Smith, seeing Christine, was at her side. "Look first to her," he said to the doctor. Already she had begun to breathe; and, speaking the words she had heard, the doctor hurried to the others. He felt the pulse of each, listened at each heart, and then called,--"Open the windows. I want air and light." Bright flashed the sunlight on a sight to make angels weep. With her pretty dress "clinging like cerement," her delicate arms locked fast around her child, the mother lay--dead! And the boy,--his rounded cheek pressed to hers,--was he dead too? It was the doubt of this that made the doctor call for light. Leaning on her uncle's arm, with water still dripping from her, through tears Christine looked on those two white faces. No terror in them now. Only love, sublime, eternal! Without a struggle they had passed away. God had lifted the clouds which overhung their lives, in his own way. Fearful to human nature, incomprehensible to human hearts, yet must we submit, bowing to his will. So felt Christine, as, after a few moments, the doctor, shaking his head, said,--"I see no signs of life. It seems a pity to separate them," he added, as if to himself. And then, in a voice so unlike his own...