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Message #: | 4559 |
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Date Posted: | 04-14-2002 |
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Subject: | Eaton, Freddle Helen (13 DEC 1879 - 28 JUN 1882) |
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Posted by: | Stan |
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Email: | posted4u@charter.net |
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Surnames: | EATON |
Source: CLARK COUNTY REPUBLICAN PRESS (Neillsville, Wis.) 07/06/1882 Eaton, Freddle Helen (13 DEC 1879 - 28 JUN 1882) Died, in Greenwood, Clark County, Wis., Freddle Helen, youngest daughter of A.S. and Emeline Eaton was born Dec. 13, 1879 and died June 28, 1882.
The subject of this notice was a beautiful child of more than ordinary
intelligence. She instinctively drew all hearts toward her. She was the pet of
the town and the idol of her parents. Mr. Eaton, in conversation with the
writer, said that many time he has taken her on his knee and related incidents
of the war of the rebellion, especially the ever memorial 13th of Dec, 1862 ¿
the great battle of Fredericksburg, in which he was a participant, when 20,000
Union Soldiers fell in defense of the stars and stripes, and that the child
seemed to drink in the very spirit of the incidents thus narrated, and said that
because papa fought for the flag she would always love it. But God claimed the
gift a while bestowed, and on last Wednesday morning just as the sun arose, her
pure spirit took its homeward flight. Just before she closed her eyes in death
she put one arm around her mother and one around her father, as much as to say,
meet me in heaven. The funeral took place from the M. E. Church Friday, and was
attended by a large congregation of sympathizing people. Wherefore should you
make your moan, Now the darling child is dead? She to early rest is gone She to
paradise is fled; You can go to her, but she Never can return to thee. Faith
cries out, it is the Lord, Let him do as seems him good! By thy holy name
adored; Take the gift a while bestowed; Take the child no longer mine, Thine she
is, forever thine. ---C. C. Swartz. * * * IN MEMORIAM Last Tuesday morning,
at 4 o'clock just as the bright orb of day was ushering into this sad world of
ours a flood of light and it came stealing over the hills into the window of her
room, little Freddie Helen, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. A. S. Eaton, died. That
golden sunshine from the morning sun, so pure and bright on other occasions, was
an inky darkness compared with that little Sunshine, as we always called her,
which had gone out of that household forever. Little Freddie, aged three years,
six months and fifteen days, with her great blue eyes, whose lovingness had
kissed the blue vault of heaven, and from thence borrowed their color was a
general favorite in the community, loved by all who knew her and idolized by her
parents and sister. Her sister Viola had just gone to Dakota to spend the
summer, and after four days absence was summoned home by the news which went
flashing over the wire, that little Freddie was dying; and ere she arrived, that
little bud of promise, too pure and sweet for the gardens of earth, had been
transplanted, in all her angelic beauty and loveliness, to the banks of that
pure stream which flows by the throne of God. Little Freddie, although the dew
drops of three and one half summers, only, had kissed her loving lips, had keen
perceptions, quick wit and bright intellect far in advance of her years. The
woof and web of life of the heart stricken parents was made up of the love and
sunshine their two little girls bore them, the one is taken the other left.
Little Freddie's hands, now folded in snowy whiteness across her peaceful
breast, had a clear, unclouded mind up to the moment death released her from
suffering. To show, for one so tender in years, how clear her mind was, how
loving her heart, she voluntarily, a moment before death, lifted her little
white arms and encircled the neck of her papa and mama and drew them to her,
then took from her head a dearly prized and childish treasure, a little blue
comb, and said give it to sister, who at that moment was flying to her as fast
as the great railway engine could bring her. With her latest breath she left one
kiss upon her mother¿s lips for sister Viola, and her spirit took wings and
ascended to God who gave it. --- A. S. Eaton CARD OF THANKS In the saddest of
sad duties that we have ever been called upon to do, burying our little Freddie,
allow us, from grateful hearts to hold in remembrance Mrs. A. W. Bailey, Mrs. H.
M.Weston, Dr. H. J. Thomas, Jas. Bryden, and a host of other friends who were
but too glad to render kindly aid in caring for our little one while living and
burying her when dead. May our hands be permitted to bless you all, and heaven
be your rewarder. --Mr. and Mrs. A. S. Eaton
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