Daily American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1852, 1852-07-27

face of that babe. ! had been sent to the min
ister's house on some errand; and as fingered
bashfully on the threshold, with an unexpressed
wish at my heart, | was invited into the room
of the sick lady. did not then know that she
was so i'll as she really was. She least knew
it. herself Her disease had taken the form of
a fiatterer and deceiver, even while it was hur-
rying her with fearfully rapid strides from her
place on earth.
Her husband had once, and only once, given
her glimpse of the conviction that was rend-
ing his heart. 1t was when she had been con-
hdenty laying her plans for the education of
her child, and for Its management after she
should "get we'll"
Life and death are in the hands of the
Lord, Emily" he had replied, in an almost
choked voice; you may never get well "
She had looked him in the face, wondering.
ly; then turning to the crib at her bedside had
caught up the pearl of price and promise that
lay reposing there
~ can't die, and leave my baby" she had
exclaimed incredulously. Then she burst into
tears that threatened her safety; and her ten
der husband had feared TO speak from his
heart again. He saw that she was cheerful,
hopeful, deluded, and therefore happy; he be.
lieved her fitted to 60 and trusted that God, in
his own good time, would take away the sting
of Death ere she WIS called to face that stern
reality unveiled!
She lay halfproppsd by pillows, as entered
the ROOM over whose snowy linen her hossy
bands of long rich hair were dropping. The
day was warm. and she had thrown the cap
from her head, and shaken down that wealth
of tresses untouched by disease. Her cheeks
were marble white, except where burning
red round stamp frightened the centre Of each.
Her glittering eye turned restlessly on the door,
as it was opened to me by an old mulatto
woman, with shining teeth and checkered
head -turban. 1t was her maumer," her fos-
ter-mother for at the first disclosure of her
danger, Mr. Young, forgetting everything but
her wishes and necessities, had sent for her old,
faithful favorite
ooh, 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 up?"
It's down a top missis; but it's mighty cool
for the baby.o
"Then shut it!n she commanded, immedi-
ately Hitty, feel strong enough to comb my
hair, believe A pretty tangle it is in Bring
me that glass;"
eff missis would let me do it out for herr"
asked Hitty.
"No 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's light
form to sitting posture, and piled the pillows
around her
Emily drew herivory comb languidly through
the shining mazes of her hair, glancing often
ut the image that looked her in the face.
"I really think look better to-day, Htty,'
said she; ~ have such good color, and
have not the least pain !"
Little missy's come for to see the baby,
likely? 2" asked Hitty, turning toward me.
Little missys predictions for "small hu-
manties" 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 a charge to "sit down, and
be mighty car'ful of it!n
1t was like waxen doll, if a waxen doll of
perfect workmanship could have been trans
parency for the soul of sinless cherub. As
gazed on it in mute childish delight, it slowly
Enclosed two large, heaven-blue eyes, and se-
renely turned them upon me, with a look such
as never saw in the eyes 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?" l asked he nurse, in
loud whisper.
"Tm afeard not, missy" she whispered, sor-
rowfully and very low, as she bent down over
it. dts 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 Hitty! J" she called,
family
When it was fastened up, she turned her
face to the wall, and buried it in her pillow.
| was looking on the little bud Of Immortality
that clasped, with a vague, mysterious feel
ing. 1t would have been dread, if anything so
pure and beautiful could have been dreadful
"To die1 This baby to die2" / thought;
and then came the question:
"Will it ever remember anything of its little
life?"
But there was n 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 1t
again, nor her.
Why do linger in the story They sleep
together in the field Of God half-un-
folded blossom and the bud. The babe lies on
its mothers breast She was spared the 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
sacred thing. Her faults were all buried in
her early grave "The Georgian Rose" is to
this day the f1ower.name that keeps fresh in
the hearts of her parishioners the memory Of