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

ilOfe tiidH lNeDLy-lOuT uOufS, even tHe
strong, much less one like our darling
About sunset | heard a voice under the
window 1t was Annice, who had heard
of our troubles, and had come to help us.
/ went down to speak to her. and she told
me we were to part with our merry,
healthy boys. | had not dared to go near
them all day, but we had heard their
voices within an hour. But Annice had
found them, and recognized the CHASTITY
signs too well | knew, too, as soon as |
saw them | went back to tell their moth
er, and we sent Annice to be with them,
and staid with the one from whom we were
first to part.
1t was dark now, and the stars came
out, and red glow on the horizon showed
where the moon was to rise by and bye
Ellen was talking of walking, as we had
done last nigt. Papa, | am very tired !;
do carry me home We are coming very
near home now, aren't we-very near
homer Then we were in church. You
have seen how the sunset light shines upon
the monument to Lady Dimdale, lighting
up the sweet, pure face that is raised to
heaven2 She. thought she saw it. 1t is
growing dark ; want to see the glory on
the monument. All there it is the head
is all bright and shining. 1t is looking at
me- l am coming Such glory is all
around | am coming Wait till the
hymn is sung, or papa and mamma will be
vexed.' And she raised herself, and
stretched out her arms and, as loud and
sweet as last night she had sung in health
and reason, she now sung the evening
hymn
- Glory to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings Of the light;
Keep me, oh keep me
And so singing, the Angel Of Death, that
had come so gently to her, took her home
We stood by her grave that night under
thesolemn stars, and, griefstricken, thanked
the chastening Father for the child he had
given and taken away.
But great horror fell on me when we
went back to our remaining dear ones. 1t
was in great anguish that our lite Harry
left us. He was SO strong and SO healthy,
that he struggled hard to live. He want
ed to be out in the forest at play, he said,
to feel the fresh air, and to cool his burn
ing hands in the sparkling brook No
vision Of glory crowned his last hour,
and we were thankful when the end had
come.
" Then Hugh woke up from the deadly
stupor in which he had lain He saw his
brother lie still and quiet in his little crib,
and when his mother took him on her lap,
he said, in his own sweet, lisping voice ::
Harry is better now I'll be better soon,
mamma
" His mother told him Harry would new
Ell be i'll any more, and never sorry, but,
taken to his Savior, would rest and be hap
Ply for evermore.
g I'll rest, too, till morning, mamma ;
and So clasping his little hands round her
neck, he went to his eternal rest and we
were childless
After the little cofins had been laid by
the first we had followed there, Ellen-my
only Ellen-and | sat together on that seat
in the twilight. Well do l remember the
night. The air was heavy with the scent
of hay and Towering bean-felds bats
wheeled round our heads, and great white
moths and cockchaffers fitted past US. We
talked of our darlings, and how perhaps
even then their angel spirits were near us; !;
and we felt that it was well We had laid
them in the dark bosom of the earth for
time, but it would soon pass away-oh !!
very, very soon-and then how light the
present bitterness
"And, dear heart | said to my be-
loved one, we have still each other; we
will not be desolate.' And we felt peace
in our hearts, even the peace Of God, that
the world cannot give. But the pestilence
that walketh in darkness had not yet done
its mission.
:" Ny dearest my wife said to me one
day, am going to leave you too you
will then be alone, but do not let your
heart break. A little while, few years,
and then we shall all meet together before
the Throne of the Lambr
!" / watched one day by my wifes dying
bed with Annice, and / remember no more.
A long, frightful dream, deep stupor sue
ceeded. When | awoke, it was evening,
and the golden sunshine was in my room.
From my window | could see into the for
est | saw that rain had fallen, and the
grass and leaves were green again. The
lurid mist had cleared away, and the sky
was soft and blue. All looked joyous and
glad, but knew there was no more earth
ly gladness for me- The blessed rain had
fallen on the graves Of all | loved, and the
grass grew green upon them.
:" need not tell of all | suffered it has
long gone by. When | first came down
here from my chamber, all was as | had
left it the night that sorrow first fell upon
US The very flowers, gathered by the
little hands that were stiIled forever, were
there, but dry and dead. | would not let
anything be moved. So they have been
for fifty years, and so they will be till
join those who left them there and in the
quiet evening can see them unaltered
before me. Ellen, my wife, with her
quiet eyes and smile, in the wicker-work
chair, and lite Ellen deftly working by
her side, with a sedate, womanly look on
her sweet face and the boys at noisy nlay