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My Dear Harry Wayne:

On the Death of a Mother.

WAYNE, PA., Dec. 3, 1892.

You have lost your mother. There is a very wail in the words. She may never be replaced. The dear good lady has passed away to a better land, cheered by the knowledge of your love and affectionate tenderness, consoled by the thought that her teaching, when you were a little boy at her knee, has not been in vain, and that she leaves behind her for a little while a son who treads the path of rectitude and of honor. Dear Harry, ever remember that your darling mother watches you from on high, and as she was devoted to you in life, so is she devoted to you in death. God sustain you under this heavy affliction.

Your true friend,