American Republican and Baltimore daily clipper. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1844-1846, 1846-03-10

TOR bird to perch upon. Only few shruos,
and they were now hidden by the snow
Chirp-chirp.
1t was only simple robin-but God alone
knows how greatly its presence cheered our lit
tie maiden, battling against the storm on that
sheterless and dreary moor. What trtilng cir
cumstances infuse new life into the responding
breast! The Scotch warrior cleaned new vigor
from watching the efforts of spider. rMungo
Park, when resigned to die in the African de-
sert, behed tiny weed lifting its obscure hesd
to the heaven that encloseth all the world, and
felt that God, who planted that humble Vege'
tation there, and did not withdraw from it HIS
sustaining hand, but sent the breeze to fan 1t,
and the rain TO water it-would succour the
child of his own likeness also; and from that
consoing thought, there grew such energy,
that his limbs received new strength thereby,
and he prosecuted his path anew, and arrived
safely at the village he had despaired to reach.
And this little robin-this humble robin, dearly
beloved by tale and fable, and homely rhyme
of the music of its Speech of its chirp, chirp,
chirp-were begotten such resolution and cou-
rage in the heart Of the sinking child, that there
was no longer any question of her dropping and
dying; but a certainty that she should behold
her grandmother again, and live, please God,
to bless Him in after years for preserving her
amidst the dangers of that afternoon.
The robin, too, became her guide. Not that
she could have missed her way, but the trodden
path being hidden by the Snow, one direction,
so that she did not wander far from the con-
jectured track, was as good as another And
the robin went right onward, hopping now
now flying, and even strengthening her resolu-
ton And so she found herself, ere long, at
the door of her grandmothers cottage, and
then she saw the robin no more.
She related her story to her grandmother
while warming herself at the fire which blazed
on the hearth, And oh, what fervent thanks
givings assembled that night from that lowly
roof to the Throne of Glory!
The next morning there came knock at the
cottage door, and when Jane opened it, who
should present himself but the sailor who had
given her FIVE shilings on the previous after
noon. He started with surprise at seeing Jane,
and enqured whether Dame Foster lived there.
When Jane replied she did, the seaman gave a
I'That's Richards voice." exclaimed the old
woman from within. 81 know it is. God be
praised He has sent back my son."
"My mother, my dear MOTHER cried the
sailor rushing into the cottage.
We pass the scene which followed.
"And so this is my Jane,--my own child"
said the seaman, presently, taking her in his
lap, and kissing her for full FIVE minutes with
out drawing breath.
eyes, that is poor Mary's child" said the
grandmother. at was her mothers wedding
ring that she pawned yesterday"
Theold womaa, the neighbours, Jane herself
all assert that it was no robin; but an angeI
from the Skies that led her over the moor that
afternoon. Who shall dare laugh at their
belief; For are not the resolves, which, nobly
taken, enable us to battle successfully W it'll the
storms of life, and conduct US safely HOME
angles, and guardian angles, too' So, here's
God s. eed the Winter Robin on repeated mis-
slonS!