Carroll free press. [volume] (Carrollton [Ohio]) 1834-1861, 1849-07-06


tears streamed down her cheeks.
asked If her sister wished for anyIhingi
She said "she has wished for some vine, but
Il was out ofmy power 10 get il for her,"
What would now have given for some Of
that money ! had so heedlessly squandered 10 |
my former iiel Oh! ye IhOughIless pleasure.
seekers. ye lne think how many heau.ache |
ye might alleviate, how many souls ye might
save from destruction for much less sum than |
ye could exPend on some baube TO graufy your
vanity.
ln the evening nv patient seemed better; she /
spoke Of her death with the utmost composure. |
asked her il she would like a clergyman 10
visit herl
She replied, "NO, it does me more good 10
talk TO Mary, she has always taught me what
is right"
A week passed on; Emily sometimes suffered
much, and at others was able 10 converse cheer. |
fully. One morning was rather later than
usual in paying my visit, and was surprised at
not meeting Mary on the stairs as usual. The
door of the apartment was open, and walked
gently in. Mary was supporting her sister 10
her arms; Instantly perceived a great change
had taken place, and that death was coming
in its most gentle form.
She looked at me placidly, smiled, and said:
"You will take care Of Mary" Then point.
ing to the Bible, and turning TO her sister, she
said-"You will not be without comion, and
we shall soon meet again."
Her breathing now became very short, her
arms were clasped around her sisters neck,
her head resting upon her bosom, she looked
gently up in her face, faint smile, a look Of
unutterabe love, and her soul had departed TO
to the God who gave it. So gently had her
spirit taken its flight, we scarcely thought life
extinct; softly felt her pulse-all was sill.
"Mary," said, but she did not speak. ] at.
tempted TO unclasp the arms Of her sister, and
laid her gently on the bed; took hold Of her
little hand-it was already stffenng. "Mary,"
| said, 1--WE cannot grieve for her."
"No," she replied, 'iti selfish TO wish her
back again" The tears came 10 her relief
After seeing her rather more calm, and prom.
sing to return soon, departed to visit my pa.
tients, and procure coffin. The ready made
cofins in London provided by the parishes are
liule more than few boards nailed Iogelher.-
procured man 10 convey Ole TO the house,
and shortly alier followed. Mary was on her
knees; she had cut up the pillows and sheets
her last-and was endeavoring to line it.
Two o'clock orihe day but one following, the
funeral was to taks place. got the Irish wo.
mans husband and one Of her sons TO carry the
coffin; Mary and | followed. 1t was a dull
gloomy day;a thick drzzling rain beat down the
smoke, dense fog surrounded every object,
and the wind whisIled mournfully as our little
procession turned the corner of the street,
Mary bore il better than | had anticipated until
we returned 10 her room; there everything told
Of one who would no more be seen. The cup
she had last drank out Of, part full of milk, still
stood by the bed the half.dirty night.cap,
which had been removed for clean one neatly
crmped, lay upon the table, her little slippers
stood by the side. felt the tear trcke down
my cheek as looked upon them and Mary
All! who shall describe the desouteness Of that
heart whose every thought through life has
been for the loved one now no more?
She sat with her face buried in her hands,
pictured TO myself the night she would pass
in the solitary chamber; tried to go; | hesita.
ted. No, could not leave her all alone;
stood irresolute; could not take her 10 my
home. What should dol At length an idea
crossed my mind.
"Mary," said, 81 cannot leave you here
alone, there is a poor Irish woman lower down
the street; she is poor but kind; they have had
the fever, but, think there is no fear Of inlec'
tion. Will you pass the night with herl"
She replied, "Do with me as you like"
The poor woman received her kindly, and
returned TO my lodgings. In the morning
was met by The Irish woman who told me that
Mary was very i'll. haslened to the spot and
found her attacked by the fever; she must have
been suffering from it the preceding day, as
perceived it had already made rapid strides
Towards evening Of the following day Ipercei.
we'd life was ebbing fast; she, too, was aware OF
her approaching dissolution. She was sensible
at intervals; once she said. "God has been very
gracious, he has not parted US long" remain.
ed with her during the night; daylight was just
streaming through the lille easement; for the
last hour she had been perfectly motionless;
she opened her eyes, looked at me earnestly,
, and said, "God will reward you."
/ Before the evening of.he following day had
| placed her by her sisters side.
My dear readers, if by this little narrative
shall move but one heart TO seek for objects oI
charity--yes, TO SEEK for those who solicit cha.
rity are not the objects who stand most in need
ofit--my end will be accomplished. Oh! ye
that possesses riches, what hoard Of happiness
do ye not holdl And will ye not dIffIse it?--
. Would ye not wish one heart to bless you--one
heart to pray for you! am now old; have
risen to eminence and affluence; yet upon nc
part of my past life can look back with so much
pleasure as on that spent in relieving the wants
and soothing the sorrows Of my follow.crea
lures.