The Georgetown news., 1856-05-15
We arc too Poor to Pay.

We are too Poor to Pay.
Yes, it was lovely spot, that village
graveyard! Such one, fancy as inspir-
ed the "Elegy in Country Churchyard.
There was less pomp and show than in our
city burial places, but what Of that, as Jer
emy Taylor says, ave cannot deceive God
and nature, for coffin is a coffin, though it
be covered with sumptuous pail" So
grave is a grave, though it be piled over
with sculptured marble.
Then that little grill How her image
comes up before me, bending over her broth
er's grave. marked when she entered, and
was drawn towards the spot where she was
kneeling. | approached cautiously-there
was something SO sacred in the picture Of
that child weeping at new made grave,
that | feared my presence might break the
rapture of her mournful musing. ! know not
how long l might have stood apparently
reading the rude grave-stone, had not the
child raised her eyes and timidly said:--
"Our little Willie sleeps here. We's too
poor to get tombstone: we and the angels
knows where he lies, and mother says that's S
enough"
care you not afraid to be here alone?" l
asked.
"Oh, no; another is sick and couldn't come,
so she said | must come and see if the vio-
lets are in bloom yet
"How old was your brother ?" | asked,
feeling interested in the little girl.
'He was only seven years old; and he
was so good, and he had such beautiful eyes;
but he could not see bit"
"Indeed was he blind?"
"You see he was sick long time; vet his
eyes were blue and bright as the blue sky
with stars in it, and we did not know he was
getting blind, till one day | brought him a
pretty rose, and he asked-'I5 it a white
rose, Dora?'
"'Can't you see, darling? asked mother.
"'No, | can't see anything. l wish YOU
would open the window, it is so dark
"Then we knew that poor little Willie
was blind; but he lived long time after
that, and used to put his hand on our faces
and feel if we were crying, and tell us not
to cry, for he could see God, and Heaven
and the Angels. Then never mind, mother
and Dora he would say, I'll See you too,
whom you 90 away from this dark place
$50 one day he closed his eyes and fell
asleep; and mother said he was asleep in
Jesus. Then we brought him here and
buried him. and though we are too poor to
get tombstone, yet we can plant flowers on
his little grave, and nobody'll trouble them,
[ know, when they learn that Willie sleeps
here"
THE DEATH OF A CHnD.-It was bright
morning when we followed her to her rest,
but we brought back with us only darkness
The home which she summed and made mu-
sical, was gloomy as cavern, so it remains
A few days ago it seemed like heayen-but
now the stars have faded out. and the lark
that sang at the gate, has fallen with an ar
row in his breast
And when the night came on, it brought
a new measure-fully heaped-of lonely ag-
ony. How we sought to sleep, and were
awakened by her blessed voice 1t did in
deed seem as if she was there. But when
we looked and saw her not, then the truth
returned like a sudden blow, and we sank
again into the troubled waters
She lies in her little coffin. There are
rose buds in her hand, and a wreath of myr-
tie encircles her brow of alabaster. The
leaves fall solemnly; the winds moan like q
chained beast about her dismal den. It is
hard to leave her there-it' seems so cold
and dreary for the child, and yet we know
1t must be-and because it must be-and
because it must be it is.