New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1852-11-13
Suppl EMENT TO THE DAILY CRESCENT.

danced before the fathers brain, and no,o-
The mother sat by his side, with her hands
clenched, firmly knit together. She was trying
to feel physically the agony Of sitting helpless
herself to feel it, and so she kept rising up look
ing wildly round, but, seeing no succor in any
quarter, would settle into her seat again with
an agonizing groan
"Oh, john she would gasp out at times,
I" tell me, will he live; will he be better soon
will he know his mother again God forgive
me, but can notch, no, indeed, can not let
him die!''
And then:
cob, why is it, why must it be so' When
we left every thing else, and our other children
behind us, we could not leave little Charlie. lie
was to have been good angel, to make every
hardship light and pleasant Tell me, John, II
there is any meaning in this blow
1t is the penalty we pay for being poor, an
swered the man bitterly.
| A dark shadow, as Of remorse, settled sud-
| denly down upon the woman's brow, as she con-
| tinued wildly
| "But thought it was enough when we buried
little Arthur; you said God had taken him, and
| it was better for him and u.s. But Charlie, he
has been longer with us, and he is different from
oil the others; we can never love anything
again Us we have loved him. Oh, see him now
see his little limbs how they twine 0 God,
do not let him suffer thus Take him, if thou
must, but do not let him linger thus J"
And the father answered solemnly, while the
| child's limbs were stiff, and bent in a last con-
vulson, and the old look of life was fading away
in his upturned eyes, and great drops of agoniz-
ing sweat stood upon his little brow, and while
greater drops came upon the fathers face--a
face whose every line spoke d voiceless prayer
to God to shorten the death struggle-thus he
| answered:
eyes, Mary, this suffering is very hard
almost too hard but hear me, Mary, and thank
God with me that our Charlie shall never know
a suffering ten thousand times greater than this,
which you and l could not have seen and felt
for!''
ssHe does not suffer-" said another voice close
by. EVEN now your child Charlie rejolces
with the angels in the paradise of God"
As the voice spoke, the painful gurgling ceas-
ed in the chid's throat, his limbs gradually
Strengthened and resumed their native grace,
while lovely radiance illuminated his beauti-
full countenance, as if it had caught a reflex
from the happy spirit lowering there short mo-
ment to bid adieu to its late tenement Of clay.
A peaceful, easy drawing OF breath or Two,
and the last chapter of this little life on earth
was closed.
There was silence for some minutes. The rain
was over, the winds were at rest, and broad
square of moonlight came in through the door
way of the ranch, lighting up the spot where sat
the figures of the scene.
have been Arthur Orrington. 1t was particu-
larly fitting that he should have come at that
moment had no curious sensation how OF
whence-to form as it were connecting, recon
Cling link between those afflicted spirits and the
higher order of existence, of which their chile
was now one. And when taking hand of each
within his own, he knelt before them in prayer
$ could not help feeling indeed that something O
) the spirit of Him, coming down from heaven
took upon himself the likeness even Of US, ane
, &c went about doing good.' yet fingered in the
l form of our humanity.
t His prayer was no idle expenditure Of words
1t rose up from his soul like spiritual incense
and, as it assembled, a like incense from othe1
n souls mingled and rose with it, an acceptable
G Offering at the throne of the All-perfect. oh
4 what al odor of fearful joy, and gratitude, ant
Y hope, seemed to float upward and outward iron
t our hearts, making the atmosphere about u
/ redolent of all pleasant things, when that clear
: soft, solemn voice repeated the words of our Sa
r viour, ''suffer little children to come unto me ;
e and then the inefable peace and faith whicl
: overcame us, how can l describe it, when Their
It followed the blessed assurance that "of suc
d was the kingdom of heaven'' But when, 70
: the first time, the absolute certainty of thei
: childs eternal bliss broke upon the parent
10 brain; when, following the spirit of the prayer
IL they saw him sitting with the white-robed cher
y ubs at the feet Of Christ, and knew that Their
r should be his home forever, the measure of the
lie thankfulness was full. The great glory of Il,
y thought, that while they were going about
y quest of treasures on earth, other hands tina
If those of men had been gathering treasures fl
them, worth more than all the worlds of spac
1t and laying them up in those regions &C whe,
c, neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and whe1
f. thieves do not break through and steal wt
1t enough. The corpse of the child, lying in i
l. last composure, as if famed to slumber by a
l. angels wing, but typical of the perte'
nf +tvo c,,i,i 70 hn1rc
y and silent in the presence Of that sublime rev
ID lation.
e. It was long after the departure of Arthr
is Orrington ere word was spoken on either sid
OF The man and woman sat in their respecti'
~ seats almost motionless, while the former sti
ly held in his arms his still precious burthen.
~ length loud, long sob burst from the woma
re and as she turned her face full towards IN
G. catching meanwhile upon her husbands arI
Is, | saw the lines of tears streaming down b
by cheeks.
%, John said she, in q tone most thrilling
is sad yet earnest, sc l feel that l have done
NJ, great wrong, but God has forgiven me. Can y
se forgive me also ="
H. The man changed not his posture in t
d. slightest, and she continued:
at &c When you were in trouble, John, when
l." world grew dark around you, when you hadl
er a friend, John, because you hadn't money, b
m when little money would have made you fl
oh and happy, had it, and kept it back fr'
nd you"
ON The man turned upon her countenance f
ad of emotion, but in which was no sentiment
il anger.
ere g Yes, john had money, money inherit
TX from relative, that you did not know ola
ON l kept it back. But, oh believe me, did !
vas keep it from avarice or mistrust-I kept
of because would have been too wise, and Wa
md FOOL
not In the mans countenance was an express
we'd of earnest, searching inquiry, which tho won
vas interpreting, went on:
q Yes, John, l saw you suffer day by day
ace saw you despised by mean, unworthy men, {
lid kept back the money which might have M
by you independent Of them all. But oh, Johr
rio did not keepit back for myself kept it b
Ter, for him; yes, for him, that l might have it
SSH keep off the evil of his dark day. Oh thou
the it would come as yours had come, when he
to handsome, light hearted young man, an
the Iscould not bear to think Of him crushed, and
,or- appointed, and despised Of his companions.
Ella | said l will save it for him, and when his d
Pc day comes, and he shall say to me, &c Moths
ing, have no friends, and no position in the wo
our and must die then l would bring it ft
the and give it to him, and be repaid by his XII
,ths and his tears for all that you and l have
lea fered. Oh, what fool was!" q
can The woman's tears fell in gushing rivers,
ever her sobs were less wild and violent. The
went too, but calmly; and taking her by