Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1855-04-25
EaNies' Department.
Written for The Spirit Of Mc Age-RaIsigA.
LIFE IN GLIMPsEs.
A Story without a Name.

in the mountains at tire high noon of night,
and wept and prayed oycr the cradle Of
her sick infant %sorrowfully ; for she feared
IL was about to DC taken from her forever,
as the Millec's soa had been only the week
before. The deep blue eyes Of the babe had
closed, and a dark streak stained the thin
skin over the little chrystal balls that once
sparklcd hike living gems its face was
pale, strangely damp aud cool; its breath
ing was in struggling snatches and now
and then, u feeble sigh would murmur out
from its pallid lips.
1t had been a cold day in the mountains
those who ventured away from the cracking
lire on the hearthstone were covered with
crispy snow. Tde wind blew SO strongly,
now this way, and Row that, that it seemed
TO cut the faces Of those who met it. So,
it is ne wonder that the poor woman was
aloRe in her cottage with her dying babe
on that night.
just after the midnight telling Of the
clock on the mantle, there was a strange
scream heard on the wind, as it came down
from the clouds to the mountain and then
10 the valley below to run its wild races !;
and in at the door OF the cottage, without
ceremony, there came a strange vision
In form, it was as an old, old man, with
beard as white as the snow that had lodged
on the blanket thrown over his bony Shout
ders. He was a tall, giant man, and a
strange, wild looking man for he carried
a reap-hook in his hand. though it was in
the winter time, and long icicles hung down
from his frosty locks.
lie came in and sat by the cradle bend
ing his leadeR eyes down upon the gasping
infant. The mother kneeled by it at the
feet Of the strange vision, and taking the
little cold hand in hers, said =" My babe
will not die, will it?"
The old man moved his koary head about
until the icicles that cluRg to his locks rat
tied in a strange harmony, bat he spake
not.
Said the anxious mother =" The Faith
,r in Heaven is full of mercy he will not
Ike away my only treasure, will he, stran-
Aerr"
But the vision spake not.
might as we'll tell you that this strange
vision, so like an old man, was noue other
hap DEATH reaper that reaps when the
husbandman sleeps in winter-in spring
time and in June.
The mother asked many questions of
him as she kneeled ut his sandaled feet
about the prospect that lay before her babe !;
but he shook his frosty head and then nod
ded it about IN such a strange manner that
there was no telling whether he meant the
babe was going to die or was 60 live And
he waved his Reaping Hook in a strange
way, too.
The poor woman slept. Weary with
watching ovov the sick babe for many long
nights, she slumbered while the tears dried
upon her cheeks. Her sleep was but for a
few moments-she started as the wild
shrek was heard riding on the wind-the
vision had gone away and had taken the
infant with him!
Distracted with grief at her great loss
she rushed from the cottage screaming with
the wildness of despair after her stolen gem.
As she went, now this way and now that,
she was called to 'by'a sad looking woman
dressed in u long black gown, who sat among
the snow-drlfts and whose dark robes con-
trasted strangely with their whiteness.-
The sad woman in the dark gown, said
mournfully -" Death hath been in thy
house l saw him 60 from it with thy lit
tie child in his icy arms; but the wind is
his steed and the swift lightning can scarce
keep pace with him."
cob tell me the road he took" cried
the mother Wringing her hands, for there
we're many roads in the mountain; "tell
me, oh! tell me, andT will try to overtake
him and weep for the return Of my child"
Ny name is NIGHT" said the woman
In black, /" aud l know the road he is trav-
cling; but | will not tell thee until thou
hast sung me the pretty songs thou used to
sing to thy little lost Mary for | love
them above all things else. Ihave listened
to them again and again until my solitude
became cheerful, and my countenance has
been made glad as l looked in where thou
safest singing, sometimes with smiles and
sometimes with tears. Sing me all the
songs thou used to sing to thy little Mary
and | will tell thee the road Death travels"
The mother sang the songs, but the tears
she shed while she sang were more numer-
Gus than the notes Of the song. Night was
infiexible and she made the weeping moth
er sing some Of the songs over and over
again, for Night loved to hear those songs.
At length Night said: "Mourner, 20
the pathway that leads through the forest
OF yew and cypress trees; for that is the
way Death went with thy treasure"
Aid the weeping mother went into the
dark forest and through it as fast as she
could, aud soon came to where many roads
met, running this way and that. She did
not know which to take for Night had
not told her of this
A voice from a bush by the Waysidc
called out to her and asked her if she had
lost her way She looked aud saw it was .
t~hornbush, without leaf or flower for il
was in the winter time, as / have said be.
fore, and the white fecks of snow had
lodged in its tangled branches.
did Death pass this way with my child,
said the mother without answering the
question from the bush.
Yes" said the bush but | will not
tell thee which road he took until thou ia.
kest me to thy bosom and warmest me
against thy heart. This terrible cold will
Kill me outright-the frost rs eating nv
hores aud the wind is drinking Ny sap
Warm me, good woman, against thy heart
and | will tell thee which of the roads
Death went"
In her agony the poor mother pressed