The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1852-07-29
NO 291.

her wishes and necessities. had sent for her old
faithful favorte
"0h, how close this room is - exclaimed
the fevered sufferer, throwing her wasted arms
above her head Leave the door open little
one Maum Hitty is the window upl'
Its down a top, missis; but it's mighty cool
for the baby
"Then shut it, she commanded, immedi-
ately. Kitty, feel strong enough to comb my
hair believe A pretty tangle 1t is in Bring
me that glass
"If missis would let me do it out for her
asked Kitty.
mo no not to-day like to feel as though
could do it myself really. 1t keeps up my
courage, you see and sometimes ! do feel my
spirits sinking little, when / am weakest -
Hitty shook her head as she turned to bring
the toilet glass. She propped it in its place
upon the bed; then lifted her MISTRESS light
form to a sitting posture, and piled the pillows
around her.
Emily drew herivory comb languidy through
the shining mazes of her hair, glancng often
at the image that locked her in the face
3" really think look better to-day, Kitty
said she; IL have such a good color, and
have not the least pain 80
Little missys come for to see the baby,
likely ~ asked Hitty, turning toward me.
Little missys predictions for small hu-
manitiesn was no less prominent then, than in
later years SO she was not slow in giving her
assent The darling was soon laid in my small
eager arms, with charge to sit down, and
be mighty car'ful of it!r
1t was like waxen doll, if a waxen doll Of
perfect workmanship could have been trans
parency for the soul of sinless cherub. As
,ol ~, oh oil n slowly
Enclosed two large, heaven-blue eyes, and Sc
renely turned them upon me, with look such
Us | never saw in the ewes of any other babe.
1t did not cry it did not smile. 1t looked as
though it had no business with the joys and
sorrows of this world, no commission of life to
fulfil 1t only coughed once, gently, as held
| it closer.
"Will it take cold ~ asked the nurse, in a
loud whisper
| I'm aleard not missy she whispered sor-
rowiully and very low, as she bent down over
it, ats got the sumption, too it amt gwine
for to live long"
The mothers quick ear must have caught
some inkling of these whispered words; for she
just then dropped her combs, and sunk down,
exhausted, on her pillows.
Finish my hair, Maum Htty!' she called,
family
When it was fastened up, she turned her
face to the wall, and buried it in her pillow.
Twas looking on the little bud of Immortality
that | clasped, with a vague, mysterious feel
ing. 1t would have been dread if anything 30
pure and beautiful could have been dreadful
TO die This baby to die | thought
and then came the question:
"Wil it ever remember anything OF its little
lfeln
But there was memory in those eyes
young as they Were, that promised to live
through eternity
" Give me my baby" said the mother and
it was taken from my arms. | never saw it
again, nor her.
Why do | linger in the story! They sleep
together in the field of Godn-the halfun-
folded blossom and the bud The babe lies on
its mothers breast She was spared tho death
pang of leaving that-to forget her
Never was pastors wife followed to her rest
by more sincere mourners than the wronged
Emily How many of that crowd turned aside
to weep for the injustice that time could never
repair! Her memory, from that hour, became
a sacred thing Her faults were all buried in
her early grave. "The Georgian Rose is to
/ this day the hower-name that keeps fresh in
the hearts of her parishoners the memory OF
| "Our Minister'S Second Wife"