Freeman's champion., 1857-06-25
The Little One.

There is a darkened chamber in the
house. Over the windows of that
room the thick curtains sweep heavi-
ly downward, and the sunshine and
daylight are excluded. Soft voices
mingle in gentle cadences there, and
softer footballs across the covered
floor. There are no loud tones, no
harsh sound. A hush and halo rest
there, like the soft dropping of an
angels wing, Close pressed to a
heart awakened to new fount of Joy
1t never knew or dreamed of before,
lies q little babe. Only the young
mother feels the blessing and the re-
sponsibility of the precious boon,
and iu the shodawy yroom she lies and
thinks of the little God-gift on her
bosom of the world untried, the path
untrod, which lie before the portal of
life it has just crossed. Tears Of love
and feeling rain down upon the little
brow, as she thinks in what way is
the world to try this pure young spir-
it, and whose hand will safest guide
it over that untrodden way. The
twilight comes, and the stars shine
out, and benediction and q prayer
sway like heavenly pinions over the
gently pilloweds head of the new
born while through the house a new
light shines, and manhood'S brow
grows brighter and woman's eye
grows softer, and under the roof-tree
Of home they "rcjoicc with exceed
ing great joy" for little one is
there.
Spring has come, and the babe, a
bright pretty prattler now, is out
among the flowers. The eye of aifec-
ton watches him anxiously, for the
lily disputes possession with the rose
ON that fair cheek, and the blue eye,
soft as a dew-ladcn violet, is lifted
often to the iar-off skies, as il it knew
its home was there, Slightly the lit
tie feet patter upon the stairs, sweet
ly the little voice sings through the
house, and tbs mothers heart melts
with fearful delight in listening to it,
Out on the turf the father lies down
in the shade of the summer sunset, and
like child himself plays with his
babe, and clasping his treasure to his
manly breast, feels his eye grow moist
with the dew Of affection; and thank
fulness to God for his glorious gift,
X Il X
Again there is darkened chamber
in the house. The windows are more
deeply shaded the footballs are soft
the voices are Subdued and sad. The
little one is i'll. Quietly upon his
little couch he lies and suffers. The
sweet lips utter no moan; the gentle
features evince no pain and it seems
as though angels soothed him into 81.
lence. Again the twilight comes
again the stars shine out but there
is no joy in the house, and the pray.
ers of thanksgiving are turned tc
supplicatlons Tor mercy, to pleading
at the throne OF grace to spare the
loved one yet a little while.
Morning dawns, and there is cof.
fin in the house. A little narrow
box, not two feet long ROBBED il
white, with flowers among his golden
hair, and waxen hands folded over the
heart that is still forever, lies the deac
babe. Oh, the aching hearts tba
bend over him; oh, the hot tears
that fall down upon the flowers anc
golden hair ! How they tell of earth
ly love and the hailty of earthly
things How they tell of hollow
human hopes and the mockery o
mortal trust ! In the very room
where he was born, they close tn,
co1in-lid and yield him back, dust t,
dust, earth to earth, ashes to ashes
Days and months roll away
Time, the consoler, has laid u healin,
hand upon the broken hearts of thos
who loved the child, and they hav
learned the great lesson the bab
was send to teach. The tendrils Q
the young vine, though faded, still
retain their clinging hold upon thei
memory and their love; but out i
the green graveyard stands q pur
white monument, never forgotten, an
never passed by without tear, whic
points its pale finger to the blue skie
and whispers, "Lay up for yourselv,
traasures in Heayen.n