Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1846-10-22

through the valley. Just at the point where ltI
mingled with the lake was a farmhouse, with
nothing in its first appearance to distinguish II
/ from the ordinary dwellings Of New England
yeomanry. But as / drew nearer, | saw that
the hand of taste had been there The most
delicate wild flowers of the surrounding hills
and forests had been transplanted to the garden,
which sloped gradually from the house to the
waters edge The colors and shades were ar
ranged with painters taste, and the effect was
surprisingly beautiful. BY the doors and WIN
Gows of the humble mansion, the sweet brar
and the pure white rose mingled their delicate
blossoms with wild creeping plants, which nae
been trained up the sides of the house. MY
curiosity was strongly excited. The day was
warm and sury, and | ventuled to crave
strangers priviIege-rest and glass Of water
An elderly female whose homely garb and man
ner told that those tasteful ornaments were no
work of hers was the only occupant. Iyentured
to remark in an inquiring tone on the beauty
and arrangement of the flowers; but for while
tears were my only answer. CO., said she at
last q it is the work of my daughter, who sleeps
by the side of her two sisters under the shade
of those old elms. She waS mig youngest and
so good and gentle, that it was hard parting
with her Her elder sisters had dropped and
wasted just as they arrived at womanhood. l
thought perhaps they had worked too hard, for
we have always earned our bread by the sweat
of our brow, and never knew what it was to be
idle. Janet was the last, so we put no tasks
upon her, but suffered her to work or play, Just
as she pleased. Our boys were all well to do
in the world, and had good farms of their own,
except John, who run to learning, and must
needs 60 to college. 1t was soreIy against our
will but he talked so well, and coaxed SO much
and told how much good he would do when he
became minister, that we at last consented
After he went away, Janet never seemed like
herself Formerly she would 60 singing about
her work so brightly, that her father called her
his lark. But now she looked so sad and lonely,
that it made my heart ache to see her. John
came home in vacations, and brought her heaps
of books; and then she would look happy, and
speak and sing in her own clear tones again
When they wandered about in the woods, she
would come home with such red cheeks, and
her face so covered with glad smiles, that |
thought she at least would be spared to my
old age. But when he left she dropped again
ike Gagged bird. Her only happiness seemed
to be in reading the books he brought, and ten
ding the flowers he had planted She took no
interest in assisting me; but still she was so kind
and obedent, I could not find fault The sum
mer passed away, and autumn came and ! saw
with many heartache that her forehead and
ears grew pale, very pale, while the red on her
cheeks grew deeper and brighter. She began
to have slight cough, and her clear voice be-
came faint and low but 0 how sweet it sounded
when she took some ofthe last flowers of autumn,
and told me how they spoke of heavenly
Fathers love- and that he who thus cal ed for US.
See, dear mother, she would say how carefully
the little flower is protected by its clasping,
leaves so that it has braved the storm, as tender
and delicate as it looks. God has taken care of
it, and he will take care of you,' and her voice
ialtcred when she added, even if ysu were left
alone 1t was the first time she had spoken of
what | feared, yet dared not whisper even to
myself | wept bitterly and told her, selfish that
| was for saw that this dark world was as
prison to her, that she must not die. And then
she put her arms around my neck and talked to
me of heaven, and how sweet it would be to he
there with Agnes and Mary and little Godfrey,
and how soon |, too, should be there with them,
till wept no more, and only longed to 60 with
my blessed child.
ave still thought she might live many months,
and she talked cheerluy of the happiness she
would enjoy when John came home in his win
ers vacation. But all at once she grew very
sick we sent for doctor, and he said she could
not live three days | told her the heavy IT,
dngs, for her poor father was broken down
with this last trouble, and could not speak of it,
SO soon 7 said she; but after a momsnt's pause
she added, casping her thin hands and looking
upwards, " Thy will be done p' But, john
can't die till | have see him. You must send
for him. and shall live till he comes | told
her he was so far off it would be more than a
week before we could get him here No
matter for that, dear, dear mother, do send for
/ him, and know shall not, cannot die till
have seen him. We sent, and every day she
grew weaker and her breath grew fainter But
how sweetly even then did she talk of heaven
and of Savior's love. Almost every hour she
would ask, Has John come YETI The doctor
came again, and again and said he wondered what
it was that kept her alive. why Doctor. said she
with faint smile, I can't die till have heard
his voice in prayer once more At length the
seventh day came. 1t was the Sabbath, and
one of the brightest of early winter mornings
She reused from deep lethorgy, which we had
thought would prove her last sleep, and asked
+ me to give her rosebud from the bush which
stands there in that window. Just then we
: heard the sound of horses hoofs he had come
But cannot tell you Of their meeting. My
eyes were too blinded with tears to see it, and
D my heart too full to remember much | only
S remember that in a few moments she showed
d him the rosebud and told him her lot was like