Eaton Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1843-1856, 1856-04-10


grandeur towards Heaven.
In the cottage of Caspar Fontaine the work
ing stood before the cheerful fire, land the great
family Bible that had descended through many
generations laid with its huge covers open and
the heavy clasps fallen upon the clean linen
beneath.
The old man had been reading in the holy
volume, as was his wont before retiring, and
the wife had laid by the knitting on the stand
beside them, and with folded hands, sat ga
zng into the face OF her venerable partner.
Thought was very busy with him, he was
reviewing the pages Of the past, that sometime
luminous, at others as witha thick veil, were
slowly unfolded before bis minds eye; there
was no crime there; so the old mans face woie
q cheerful but subdued expression. Sudden
ly he looked up. The calm, clear eye Of his
vile met his own glance, and he started from
his reveIie.
Lucia, my love, we are getting very old,'
he said.
That was What was Just thinking OF my
husband she replied, 'whiIe endeavored 10
call back the feelings with which first heard
you call me wife, but found them already in
my bosom, and they have been there ever
since that day, increasing in depth and
strength as we draw nearer 10 the grave. II
tore my heart 10 part with our lovely CaSpar;
but it would have broken II 10 lay yOu in the
grave, my husband. How white your locks
arep she continued, fondly stroking them back
from his lofty yet mild brow; but TO my mind
they are more beautiful, curling in pale waves
upon your shoulders, than when they fell over
a rujdy cheek in ringlets OF JET
Those were happy days murmured Caspar,
partly TO himself.
And are we not happy now, o! my hus-
band1'
Happy while we are together; too happy,
he whispered back, as the quick tears sprang
TO his eyes. there is only one thing that mars
my present enjoyment, and l. fear, in that
distrust the goodness which has led US from
joy 10 joy.'
'What is it CasparY'
! The fear that may be taken, and you may
be left; you, alone in your old age, with none
nearer than friends and acquain:ances.'
Lucia was silent 70. moment. Let us
put our trust in Godp she al length exclaimed; /;
If am left, Caspar II cannot be for long,
| .And then we shall be reunited in eternity
whispered Caspar.
YES, 10 love on for ever and ever.'
Shall we love each other more surremely up
yonder? and in the old mans eyes shone 10 ly
light.
Next TO God, firmly belie7e, for are not
our souls in perfect unison?'
| 'Yes,' said CaspaI, as he gently clasped the
hand Of his wife, perfect for ours was true
morriage. Word, thought and deed, have
grown ia similitude, till The soul of one is as
the echo TO that Of the other. Pain is aimos
sweet when you are near TO minister to me,
and pleasure enjoy not 10 funeSS unless you
are a sharer. Yes, my love, we are going TO
the grave together, and we shall soon be Joined
to those precious pledges who took their flight
| hcavenward so long ago. | regret not now
neither, am sure, can you, that we laid them
so early in the arms of Death. They are not
sinless; but oh! we deemed them very near
perfectiOn.'
Il did not see till now, Caspar, that your
eyes are heavier than usual;' exclaimed Lucia,
after some moments OF silence during which
they had sat hand in hand; have you felt ill
10 day?j
Il cannot evade your question, my vile. In
truth, the racking pans IN my head, which |
have suffered since morning, led me 10 muse
upon what have told you.'
'And |, too, have felt strange sensation in
my head all day; but thought if spoke Of it
it might alarm you.'
we shall both be better, perhaps, after a
nights rest. Let US perform our family devo-
tion and retire.
After prayer the red Goals on the hearth
were carefully raked up and covered with
ashes, and in few moments the lights were
put out, and the good OLD couple slept.
Day dawned again. Earth smiled in its
crystal beauty. twas brilliant morning
Caspar and Lucia were awake with the first
gimmering Of light. Indeed, they had slept
uneasiy, and had often spoken 10 each other
in the still watches Of the night.
Lucia? exclaimed Caspar, feebly, you are
burning up; how hot and feverish your hand is'
'And you, too, husband; your forehead is
like coal OF fire, and your eyes glare fright
fully
so do yours. 1t would be strange if we
were sick together
! 'Oh! am not sick,' responded Lucia, at.
tempting 10 rise; but she fell back heavily on
the bed. -.
I my poor wife, what shall We do3 l too
cannot rse.'
! ing to drink; but my brain reels end throbs SO
suddenly, aud the shooting pains fly from limb
10 Iimb.'
Higher rose the sun, glaring on the forest of
snow. yet no smoke came from The chimney of
Caspar Fontaine. ~
The neighbors wondered, and thought the
cid couple had oversight themselves. Broad
noon! and still no signs Of life from the unusu-
ally busy inmates.
MARY, just run over there said farmer,
who lived near, TO his ruddy checked dauch.
/ ter, 'and see il all If anything has happened;
il IS very strange, seems so sill, they are uSu
ally up before we are.'
Mary came hying back in few nome nis.
Her cheek had lost its rose; and her eyes were
overhowing with tears
Il knocked at the door, father; everything
was silent. | crept round 10 The east room,
where they slept, and Theard Mr.. fontaine
Igroaning Greadfully. Do go there father. /
I know they must be SICK
The farmer instantly accompanied his child
fback, while hiswife hurried the meal that she
/ might have some warm drink for them should
/ they be sick. The door was fastened; but
/ through low window Mary crept, and eau.
tiously undid the bolt, and both together moved
TO the sleeping apartment. @at
Flushed withefeyer, their eyes CLASSY aud
glaring, their gray locks in disorder, the two
laid side by side. Caspar was wandering
Through other scenes but his wife was sensi.
lble, and her eyes were fastened upon The
dear, delirious one.
i 'obl neighbor,' she family mosned, Il be-.
tlieye you find us very near death; but what
ever you do she continued placing her hot