The weekly Anglo-African., 1859-07-23

gave one the idea of perfect happiness and
peace. He asked us to drink tea with him
in his vicarage, to which we gladly agreed;
and he led us through paths in the forest,
all bordered with primroses and bluebells,
to small house covered with creepers, and
in front having a garden as neat as you
can imagine a garden to be, and full of
old-tashioned flowers, such as crown impe-
rials, starch hyaeinths, and polyanthus,
and sweet with southernwood, etc. On
entering the house, perceived that the
parlor was full of children's toys and work
baskets, and | expected every moment that
a whole flock of grandchildren would come
rushing in; but none appeared.
l suppose Mr.. Morton observed my sur
prise, for while we were at tea, before the
open window, he said Mrs Fairfield, |
see you looking at those toys, and wonder
I ing what little children come here to enli-
ven an old mans loneliness but no child
comes here. The little girl whose busy
fingers last dressed that wooden baby
would have been an old woman now, and
the merry boys who laughed and shouted
at play with those horses, would have
been elderly, care-worn men. Yes, they
were mine, and in one week they all left
me-"
| uttered some exclamation of pity, and
he went ON in dreamy voice, as if more
to himself than to us, looking from the
window all the time.
Yes, thank you, my dear young lady,
in one week wife and children were taken,
and became the solitary man have been
q
a fever" he continued, after a pause-"a
fever brought here by some wanderers,
who came one night to barn near the vii
lage, where one died, and from whom the
infection spread The weather was very
bad for it-burning hot, and very
dry. There was no rain or dew, so that
the flowers dropped and the leaves with
cred with the summer sun beating down
all day long. There were deaths around
me every day, and the bell was always
tolling for the passing of soul or fune-
raj. They brought the cofins that way"
and he pointed to a green path out of the
forest, in the evening, when one could
hardly see them and their attendants
against the dark green foliage in the
dusk.
| went to the sick as much as possible,
but | took every possible precaution
against infection to my wife and children
We would have sent our darlings away,
but we had no one to send them to, and we
were mile and a half away from any in
Ellen, about eight years old, "a q thougftful,
quiet, loving little thing, older than her
years. How she used to trot about the
house after her mother, trying to help her,
and looking up at her with calm, deep blue
eyes. Then there was Hugh and Harry,
rosy, boisterous boys, and their mother
Ellen, Ellen All that your bride can be
to you, Mr.. Fairfield, my wife was to
me-"
He was silent, and looked from the lat
tice window into the sweet spring evening,
at the swallows darting about in the sun
shine, the young green leaves and the
flowers, whose scent foated through the
open window, thinking of the dear com
panion who had once walked by his side
in that sunshine, and tended those flowers
with him.
One evening"" he went or, " | was at
liberty, and we took the children out, let
ting the breeze, what there was of it, blow
from us to the village. We went to hill,
from whence we could see the silent vii
lage afar off. The boys ran about and
shouted in their glee, but little Ellen came
and laid her golden head on my knee, and
looked in my face with her deep sweet
eyes. She said Papa, there must be a
great many people sorrowful down there in
the village. | would like to help them |
wish we could comfort them | should
like so much / told her how we could
help them, by asking Him who sends us
all our troubles to help us to bear them pa
tiently, knowing that they are sent in love
and pity. Then we walked home, for the
sun was setting like red ball of fire. The
children gathered great nosegays of roses
and honeysuckles, which they put in wa
ter when we got home The smell of
honeysuckles always brings that evening
again before me.
My darling laid her doll to sleep Just
as it lies now, and wished it and myself
goodnight the boys arranged all their
play-things, and then their mother took
them to bed, and sat here, where / am
now, looking into the darkening night. /
heard them sing the evening hymn Ellen
and her mother softly and clearly, the boys
with loud, eager, joyous voices-and my
heart was very thankful for the many
blessings vouchsafed to me-
That night there was great cry in
our house, as in Egypt Of old, for our first
born was to die The fever had begun.
Our frighted servants ran from the house
at midnight, and we were left alone with
our stricken child The morning dawned.
The boys awoke, and we bid them dress
themselves, and 60 and play in the forest
Meanwhile, went to Marston, the near
est town, for the doctor and nurse, re-
solved, on their arrival, that / would take
the boys away to the woodrnan's wife, An
nice l knew she would take care of them.
But neither nurse nor doctor could be
spared from Marston, and all that burning
II .1xra< Il III i T. u