Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1855-04-25

jealous tone, all who offered to touch what
had now become so fearfully precious to
her; and as she struggled with the con-
vulsed form, she turned away her head,
that those looks of agony might not haunt
her forever. Amid wind and rain, she
laid her second child away from her; and
when for nights after, the storm moaned
sickeningly among the willow branches
and around the house top, she longed 10
90 out and throw herself upon the little
grave, to protect the unlroubled sleeper
from its fury.
At last the poverty which had so long
stared her IN the face disappeared. By
the death Of relatives, sum which would
make her comfortable for life, was sc.
cured 20 her, and her whole attention now
was turned TO the education of her re-
naming child. This daughter was grow
ing up into gentle, delicate girl, who
seemed to have imbibed her mothers sor.
rows in infancy, so that she appeared
never to have known the careless pleas
ures of childhood, and the undimmed
hopes of girlhood.
Day by day the mother watched this
last treasure, as fair and fragile as pale
lily blossom, fearing that every rude wind
would crush it TO the earth-sickening at
the agonizing thought that perhaps this,
her last comfort on earth, would be snatch
ed from her too. The young girl had
uncousciously become her friend, coun-
sellor, teacher.
To the waichful eye of love, which
cannot be deceived, for its instincts are so
sure, the change from week TO weeh be-
came more perceptible. The step was
more feeble the voice lower than of old /;
whilst the large eyes seemed filled with a
mournful radiance; and the blue veins in
the thin, white hands grew larger every
day,
Then the time came when the walks in
the garden, which she had cultivated with
so much care, had to be discontinued, and
she only knew of its wealth and beauty
by the fresh bouquets which were Plucked
daily /; though the only perfume for which
she cared was that of her lavender and
pinks. A few sPrigs of those were always
on her bosom, their spiciness revived her
so ; and she would sit listlessly arranging
the grey blue of the lavender with the
white and crimson of the carnations, in
the pleasant June sunshine, while visions
of the far away land to which she was
fastening, became more distinct the near
er she approached it.
One July morning found her too feeble
10 rise from her bed as usual; and when
the morrow's sun arose, she was shrouded
for the grave with bouquet of her favor
ite flowers on her bosom; seventeen years
from the day on which she had been laid,
little wailing stranger, on the warm,
palpitaling bosom of her mother, she was
laid again on the cold bosom of her mother
earth, who stretched out her cold arms to
receive her.
Then many talked of the wonderful
resignation of the mother. They knew
that it was the apathy of despair, leading
almost to unbelief, that her faith had near
ly died out by reason Of her many trials
and that as Job of old was advised, she
was almost temptedt to ''curse God anddie."
But better feelings at last triumphed.
From out among the glowing stars she
saw the loving eyes of those she lost look
down upon her. and she heard their voices
in the night wind that murmured around
the cottage, and all pleasant things which
God had created drew her with loving
arms 10 them aud Him; and now where
ever there are tossings on sick pillows,
or weeping eyes, or breaking hearts, or
immortal souls painting at the gates of the
Eternal City, Mrs. Al is there to coun-
sci and console.
now say no more TO my heart, "t there
is no sorrow like to my sorrow"
rur E1pSr Wrnn1NG We like short