I was so tired and I came home . But I wish I could have found him . Perhaps he does not know that I tried to . Perhaps he thinks his mother never listened to his call . Oh , I would not have him think that . '' `` You have had a bad dream , dear , '' I said . I tried to say it naturally ; but it is hard for a man to speak naturally when he feels a mortal dread striking into his very vitals with its deadly chill . `` It was no dream , '' she answered reproachfully . `` I tell you I heard him calling me -- me , his mother . What could I do but go to him ? You can not understand -- you are only his father . It was not you who gave him birth . It was not you who paid the price of his dear life in pain . He would not call to you -- he wanted his mother . '' I got her back to the house and to her bed , whither she went obediently enough , and soon fell into the sleep of exhaustion . But there was no more sleep for me that night . I kept a grim vigil with dread . When I had married Josephine , one of those officious relatives that are apt to buzz about a man 's marriage told me that her grandmother had been insane all the latter part of her life . She had grieved over the death of a favorite child until she lost her mind , and , as the first indication of it , she had sought by nights a white dream-child which always called her , so she said , and led her afar with a little , pale , beckoning hand . I had smiled at the story then .
What had that grim old bygone to do XXXXX springtime and love and Josephine ?
as at by for in into over so to with