Burlington tri-weekly hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington [Iowa]) 1852-1855, 1855-01-20
THE FIRST BORN AND The SECOND.

The first born! Oh, other tiny feet may
trip lightly at tho hearthstone; other rosy
faces may greet us around the board, with
tender love we soothe their childish pains
and share their childish sports; but s'Benja-
min is MOI" is written in the secret chamber
Of many bereaved mothers heart, where
never more the echo Of childish voice may
ring out such liquid music as death hath
hushed.
Spring hath garlanded the earth with flow
ers, and autumn hath withered them with his
frosty breath. Many summers sun and
many winters snow had rested on Daisy's
grave, since the date of our last chapter.
At the window CT a large hotel in one of
those seaport towns, the resort alike of the
invalid and pleasure-sesker, sat Ruth; the
fresh sea breeze lifting her hair from temples
thinner and paler than of yore, but stamped
with holier beauty. From the window
might be seen the blue waves of the bay lea
ping to the bright sunlight, while many a
vessel outward and inward bound, spread its
sails, like some joyous white winged sea-bird.
But Ruth was not thinking of the sapphire
sea, decked with its snowy sails; for in her
lap lay little half worn shoe, with the i'm
prees of tiny foot, upon which her tears
were falling fast.
A little half-worn shoc And vet no ma
gician could conjare up such blissful visions;
no artist could trace such vivid pictures; no
harp Of sweetest sounds could so fill the air
with music.
Eight wears since the little DAISY withered!
And vet to the mothers eve she still blossom
ed, fair as Paradise. The soft, golden hair
still waved over the blue veined temples:
the sweet. earnest eyes still beamed with their
loving light; the little fragile hand was still
out stretched for maternal guidance, and in
the wood and BY the stream they fingered.
Still the little ymn was chaunted at dawn,
the little prayer lisped at dew-fall; stillthat
gentle breathing mingled with the happy mo-
theirs star lit dreams.
A little bright-ayed creature crept to Rutl's
side, and lifting long, wavy, golden ringlet
from box on the table near her, laid it De-
side her own brown curls.
sDaisy's in heaven," said little Katy mu-
eingly. "Why do you cry, mama? Don't
you like to have God keep her for you?''
A tear was the only answer.
81 should like to die, and have you love
my curls as you do Daisy's mother"
Ruth started and looked at the child; the
rosy flush had faded away from little Katy's
cheek, tear stole slowly from beneath her
long lashes.
Taking her upon her lap, she severed one
tress of her brown hair, and laid it beside
little Daisy's golden ringlets.
A bright glad smile lit up little Katy's face,
and she was just throwing her arms about her
mothers neck, to express her thsnks, when,
stopping suddenly, she drew from her dim
pied foot one little shoe, and laid it in her
mothers palm.
Mid smiles and tears Ruth complied with
the mute request, and the little sisters shoes
lay with the twin ringlets, lovingly side by
side.
Blessed childhood! the pupil and yet the
teacher; half infant, half sage, and whole
angel! what desert were earth without thee!
Truth Hail. by Fanny Fern.