Muscatine journal. [volume] (Bloomington, Iowa) 1849-185?, 1853-07-29

written for the Journal.l
sour Frank"
BY NANNETTE:

remind me of the absence of one-the merri-
est Of them ALL
A pair Of red CATERS lie on the stand be-
side me, and the little crimson socks arc
hung over them, just as Frank placed them
the last evening Of his short life. Dear
little fellow He now sleeps by the side of
his young mother, in the quiet graveyard
of N. Frank was gift to us from
dying mother, and, as such, we treated
him at first, but soon learned to watch for
the merry face that would look lovingly
up into our own and linger near for us to
place our hands carressingly amid the gol-
den curls, so like his dead mothers.
Itwas the evening before he died that he
climbed on my lap and whispered to me to
'tell frankie story" looked a smiling
yes, and soon his head rested on my bosom
while toll him Of the time when his mother
gave him to us, and how she wept to leave
her little boy alone in the world, yet died
believing that God would take care of him
better than she could. 1t was subject of
which he never tired, and he sat so quiet
that thought him asleep until ceased,
when he exclaimed: "And He has done it,
aunt Nettie; has not God?''
s.Yes, dear Frank | replied, ssGod has
given you kind friends to love and care for
you"
''uod very good,' he murmured, gazing
dreainingly out upon the full moon, which
had just risen. "And don't you love Him,
Frank % / enquired.
Never shall forget the heavenly express
sion of his face, as be raised his head and
placing his hand On his bos ,,r said,
'0h aurt Nettie, you sa1O DIRE
Sweet prattler! carried him to his lit
tie crib and sat there telling him the story
Of the ''Bate in the Mangor" unit the quiz
ct breathing told of ehildhoods peaceful
slumber: mused long upon the gentle
boy thus given to our keeping, and his ear
nest "Oh aunt Nettie, you know do ~
as asked him if he loved God, sank deep
in my heart:
twas about riidnight whe / was aroused
by hoarse, rattling cough in the little crib
where Frank ldv: arose and found his
cheeks flushed aaa the cover tossed from
his burning limbs.
Medical aid was srtmdned, but without
relief; Frank grew worse rapidly, and
Knew that he nlTst Gle. Dear patient lamb
Well shall | remember the sweet look he
gave me as he lay on pillow ON my lap af-
tera severe paroxyism Of pain. '.Don't
cry; aunt NettIe don't feel so bad now;n
aai then, seeing my tears fall thick and
fast, he quietly turned his head away and
cried too.
Frank
"Whlt is it, autitic:'
"Ne think you very i'll, my dear boy,
and tomorrow may find you worse.n
''He laid his small hand in mine and
whispered, 'Don't cry fer that, auntie
can bear it.''
"But, Frank, we think you may not get
wcll,' and my tears fell like rain as clasp
ed his small form close to my bosom, and
felt that would not give up my darling.
HIS little arms were clasped around my
neck as he replied, in the words of the text
be had repeated the day previous at the
breakfast table. "Suffer the lille children TO
come unto me, and then fell back exhaust
in my arms.
SHOW can give you up, my dariing?'
exclaimed, in my my anguish, but was
hushed into submission by the heavenly ex-
preston of the sufferer face, as in his sweet
infant words, herepeated his evening hymn,
and then folding his hands, closed his eyes
and said, ''Frankie wants to sleep.''
Dear Frank! One struggle-one sigh
and one simple prayer, such as wells up
from the returning spirit of innocence to
God-and our Frank was dead
We laid him in his own little crib, and
arrayed him in white night robe. His
soft golden hair curled around his pure,
high forehead, and he lay as if in slumber,
when the first red ray of morning fell upon
the corpse.
The children gathered nois elessly in, and
stood by the crib, while their hearts heaved
and silent tears forced their way, as they
looked upon him, and then laying their
small hands on the face of the dead, moved
sadly away, mourning band.
We placed his beautiful form in the mar
row colhn, and fingered long to gaze on the
placid brow of the little one, who had en-
twined himself around our hearts by the
delicate tendrils of love. And now, when
by enc rude blast Of sorrow the frail vine
had withcred and the object Of our love
transplanted to cline more suited to its
luxurious growth, we felt we must Sow in
submission to the great Gardener above,
who knows best when to remove his plants
The tolling bell summoned many friends
to the village church, where the small coffr
was placed amid the group of weeping chill.
dren who had assembled to pay the last du.
ties to their little playfellow.
The last look was cast on the form, sc
beautiful even in death, ard many kisse.
imprinted on the marble forehead. The
coffin lid was screwed down, and the re-
mains placed in the dark grave, amid tn,
sobs of those who had known and loved tn,
gentle orphan boy and who felt that it wa,
only in the great mercy of God that thei
own listle ones were spared to bloom on th,
parent stem.