Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1856-04-30
Spirit Of tgs 9gs, 8aleigg, Uortg-Gsrolinp

"No, it isn't that" shaking her head
mournfully. It's because mammals dead,
and | haven't anybody to love me-"
"Poor Lucy is your mamma dead, too?"
her voice and face were very full Of touch
ing pathos as she drew still nearer to the
child, for Alice could just remember her
own beautiful mother, as she lay in the
coffin with the white roses strewn about
her cold cheeks.
God had never given any children to Mr..
and Mrs. Field, so Alice had lived with
them ever since and they loved her quite
as tenderly as if she were their own daugh-
ter.
eyes" Lucy answered, in broken voice.
ooh, she was such a sweet, gentle, loving
mother! Welived out in the country, too,
where the sunshine used to lie bright on
the meadow-grass, and the golden dan
delions grew like stars along the roadside.
But mamma grew sick, and"-Lucy' voice
failed her here, and when she dared trust
it again she only added: "The next week
they buried her by the old, messy wall,
where they laid papa when [ was a baby"
81 am very, very sorry for yon, Lucy"
whispered the tremulous voice of Alice.
"Don't call me Lucy, please, but Lilly.
1t was what my mamma called me. My
darling Lilly ! she used to say it 50 sweet
~"
"Well, Lilly, wasn't there anybody to
take care of you after your mamma died?'
"No, nobody. They brought me to the
3 city, and placed me in that washerwoman s
family, where your aunt found me. Nam
: ma told me she was going home to the an
5 gels, and that sometime she would come for
: me. Every week | call to her come come,
4 for her neck again. Oh! [ wish she would
d make haste p
e "Well, Lilly, don't say again nobody
n loves you, because [ dc, dearly" said Alice,
: stroking the short, brown hair.
EDO you? Do you really ?" What q
G tide of light flowed over Lucy's face as she
clasped her arms around Alice. And fa1
/ above them, where the winds murmurrec
L softly through a sea of white blossoms, the
angels laid by for amoment the crown they
a were wearing, looked down on the two chill
h dren as they sat there in the little room OF
the low bed, and smiled.
Two days had passed. Alice had after
ded the birth -night party of her friend, t;
ken a severe cold, which had settled int
a fever, and now the family stood in tn
darkened chamber, by the little couch wit
its pink loopings and lace hangins, on whic
~ the child lay dying,
?" Heavy sobs broke the silence. The deaf
IS. GOODNESS was on Alice's soft cheeks, tt
CHI death dimneSs in her blue eyes.
Suddenly they opened, and the last lif
light gathered into them.
ras "Oh, Alice, my darling, how can I |
ed you go' wept out the child's aunt, as 81
he clasped the little, cold hands. Alice's ey
ow wandered to the foot of the bed, where Ii
ing ly stood, almost convulsed with grief.
IN She beckoned her family to her side, az
Lilly came, and Alice feebly placed Il
nto child's hand in that of her aunt.
nd; ~ give her to you" she said. "It
ear my dying gift, Aunt Matte. Promise L
will you will take her to your heart, and s
shall be all to you and Uncle Charlie tt
the l have been, when | am up there"
and Mrs. Field looked at Lilly a moment. a
81 promise you, Alice. She shall be
yer me another daughter"
the "Ihere, Lilly, you have a mother now
a cried Alice, with joyful triumph. A
the then, the light went out from her face, a
the lids dropped gently overher eyes.
tile She had gone home, little children,
lge, aoedr the crown oehich the angels had j
the 'shed far her.