Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1856-04-03

smiles seems sad also her hands are clasp
ed and thrown above her head and she
smiles in her sleep, as if the angels were
whispering to her.
Another picture. 1t is in the month Of
May, and all out of doors is so beautiful
Flowers in the woodland; joyous music
everywhere. Everywhrc? Nothere is sad
ness in the cabin house. There is another
babe in the cradle 1t is robust, and the
blood of health flowers in its veins. 1t is
Charlie. Why are they sad, then? John
ny sits with his face hidden in his mother
bosom, and she is sobbing. Under the front
window is something covered with white.
The ncighbor women are moving noiselessly
about, speaking but little. Lizzie is in her
coffin. There is an empty grave where but
ter-cups dot the grass. Dear little Lizzie.
Joy that the angels took thee home so ear
ly.
Another picture. Johnny has grown up
to nearly manhood Charlie is stout, mer-
ry boy, and there are others about the fire.
side. The mother is good deal older now
Her hair is strcakcd little with silver, her
brow furrored, and her cheek very faded
There arc fair daughters and sons, that have
been born unto her since Lizzie died. Grace,
with her dazzling blue eyes and golden hair
Mary, with sad dark eyes, like her dead Sis
ter. Annie, with her lips ever dcwy with
love and joy. Reginald with eyes so like
his fathers And Louis, the youngest, the
pet and the darling. An unbroken family,
but not for long.
Another picture. She is a widow now.
Her beloved sleeps with little Lizzie. God
knows how berett she is; to Him she looks
for balm; to him she prayes for her dear
children, and most of all for Reginald-the
proud, the passionate, wilful Reginald. All,
the mothers heart How it goes with her
children. How it would bear every pang
that they might be saved. Yet, how often
it is torn, crushed, broken by those she has
sheltered in her bosom God pity the
mother whose heart thus beats against
thorns.
Another picture. O God, have pity q!
The household altar is almost desolate.-
Years have gone by-sad years. No wonder
the ,palsied hand trembles, as it clasps the
cradle. No wonder the old grandmother
cries out, "Fathcr have mercy I"-for she
feels the need of strength and love. John
ny is still with her; lie is growing wealthy.
Mary is in the grave, stricken in earl y wo-
manhood, when life seemed so bright. Beau
tiful Grace, is qonc-shc knows not whith-
cr Beauty, to her, was curse, and she
fed to distant land with one fascinating
as the serpent, but already welded. Annie
joined her fortunes to one, alas unworthy,
and died far from her mothers house, of a
broken heart. Reginald went into the gay
world-was tcmpted-was lost and the
grave of the drunkard aud debauchee closes
over his bright head. Louis, the pct, the
youngest, is winning himself name be-
meath Italian skies; the beautiful life of the
poct-paintcr is his own, and his face is in
spircd, almost by the beautiful associations
about him. Over the ocean do his mothers
prayers often go to him.
Another picture-Oh MAJ it is too real.
The old ganet--the to-day-the empty era
die. She is living with Johnny, in his CO.'S
tly home. She is considered an intruder by
the daughter-in-law; and her son-her
Johnny, the frst-born, whom she has watch
ed over and cradled on her breast, and loved
so, says:
"NIother is getting to be quite trouble
some she is growing childish"
The dcsolatc old grandmother knows this,
and longs for the grave. She has outlived
all that makes life attractive. God compass
that weary, almost worn-out heart, with His
love, and take her to his house of many
mansions"