The Sierra citizen., 1854-04-01

old college, George repeated, musingly
'Sclool-tim. is over now for lung
By some accident we did not meet the
next morning, and as rode homeward
to spend my vacation, in a stage full ol
strangers. often thought OF his last
words "School-time is oyer--now for
living"
Only few weeks passed and we three,
who had parted on the college lawn, were
met in the house of Mr.. Barnette, in VIII
lagc hundred miles away.
George lay upon a sick bed; kind
gray haired physician was holding one OF
his haLds in his own, the other rested be-
tween the palms of his old doating father.
The old man pressed his thin lips close,
and the deep burrows upon his cheeks grew
deeper as he looked anxiously in the
doctors face. The mother stood gazing
at him with that deep, loving sadness,
which can only be seen written upon a
mothers face. ALI knew the truth--none
wished to speak it.
"Mother-dear mother" said the dying
son, "will YOU leave me with these friends
OF mine for little l will send for you
soon Il wish to speak to them before
die" The mother tears rained upon the
pale brow of her only son as she leaned
to kiss his lips; but no sob, even in that
time OF her souls agony, broke the stiffness
of the room. As his mother went nois-
iessly out, the eyes Of her sick son followed
her; an expression of pain fell like u
shadow upon his marble face. tear-drops
gathered in his eyes, and as the door
closed he murmured-"Po mother!
The old man followed his grief-stricken
wife, bat not until his dying son had,
calmly and low, said to him "Father, be
strong!"
With his thin hands George covered
his face moment, and tears trickled down
his cheeks, and tel upon his pillow. Even
then his heart Shared the agony OF his
parents, without q tinge of selfish sorrow
But soon, reaching to us each hand -
calling calmly the name OF each-he said:
Il am dying; dying even faster than
they think but want to say few words
to you; before you leave me alone with
those who must receive my last word, as
they have my holiest love.
lit is hard to- die. my dear friends
harder than l thought 1t is hard for me
now to give up all the hopes and inten-
tions cherished so fond'y for the future, and
exchange the anticipated strife and laoor
and success OF life, for the stiffness of the
grave. You know my past life-how it
Was spant-what purposes directed it.
You know that | looked differently upon
the world from most of those arould
me, that l tried to be Independent,
and now that l am dying, you Will fully
believe me wnen assure you | tried in all
things to be true and honest, You well
know how we have all been talked to-
now good people nave tried to frighten us
by the terrors of death, from doubling their
fllth. This is what | wish you to know,
though am dying, and feel that it is hard
to give up my young life just now, when
1t promised so fair, for the awful uncertain
ties of the grave; am not afraid to die.
My friends, l could uot understand many
things which good men preached to US
and some things l disbelieyed. They
called ME 'young inidc"--they would
have kept me from their children; they
would have terrified me with pictures Of
my guilt; and have even tried to make me
fear death as a Judgment for my unbelief
Well, ! am dying; those mysteries seem
yet hard to ME; but believe me, there is
nothing in death to frighteu mans soul
for eyyr having been free and brave
Many sins and as he said this his voice,
wnich had all the time been low, but
steady, trcinbled for the first time--"rest
upon me--God knows that am sorry for
them; but for having tried to think l am
glad, even at this moment Of sorrow"
He paused, and seemed tired; after re-
questing spoonful OF some cordial and
resting one moment, he proceeded. again
giving one vi his hands to each of US. IL
lear that l am sinking faster than
thought, and will only keep you with me
a moment more. My friends, let me beg
OF you never to be scared out of the use OF
your own sous! From this bed upon
which l am dying, while the voice OF the
grave-king is whispering in my ears and
my bloou grows chill III my veins, assure
you that the memory of my past freedom,
adds no gloom to my sorrow, no labor to
my breathing" With some effort he
raised his hands, and allowed them to rest,
III feeble embrace, upon each OF our
necks, looked alternately and with teLder
earnestness at US, and then said: .My
friends--I die, but you live; be honest
and true to your own souls. and never fear
death and now farewell, until after
death p
never saw him again, except to look
for one moment upon the pale. marble
features which were shown to his friends
before the coffin lid was fastened, and the
earth thrown upon him. But ! stood BY
his grave until the sun was gone Until
the stars were out-until the early frost
was glistening upon the grass up to his
graves edge, and as | started slowly from
the sad spot the warning of my teacher
uttered tnree years before, recurred to my
memory Beware of him, he is an in
fidel" Revseently uneovering my bead