The gazette and Democrat. (Lancaster, Ohio) 1860-1860, 1860-10-11

Thee, keep Thou mine orphan child un'
der the shadow OF Thy wing; guide her
young feet in the narrow way; lead her
home to Thee and me-
At the sound of her mothers voice the
little girl turned, and gathering up her
flowers, came to her side.
"Mamma,d did you say anythingto me?'
she asked.
"No my darling. Where did you get
these flowers"
"Some of them came out of the woods
down by The river, and some of them
came from the garden Mamma. why
don't you take me 10 walk about now,like
you used to2'
Mrs. Menard sighed deeply, and answer
ed the child's question by asking anoth-
er.
"valesia. how would you like toleave this
little spot and go to the SOuth?"
Valesia's large, dark eyes were raised
to her mothers face with look of inqul-
ry.
where mamma? to Uncle Georges
with you2"
"Not with me, Vulesia, my own dar-
ling child; it is not long that l have to
stay with you. l am going where your
father is s,and when | leave you your home
must be with your Uncle George"
ooh, mamma, you will not die, you
will not leave mel" exclaimed Valesia.
Mrs. Menard drew the child TO her, and
beneath the silver moonbeams she talked
to her of heaven, and prepared her for the
sorrow that was soon 10 fall upon her.
The only relative Mrs. Menard had
was brother of her late husbands. The
Uncle George she had spoken of to her
little daughter, resided in Florida. Mrs.
Menard had written to him stating that
there was no other person in the world to
whom She could ehtrust Valesla, but him
and begged him to come 10 her before it
was too late to see her.
A week passed by. and almost hourly
Mrs. Nenard seemed to fail. She was
no longer able to sit upon the porch and
watch the innocent sports Of her child up
on the sloping green; beyond that door sill
she never would step again. Valesia was
her attentive little nurse; years seemed
suddenly added to the child's age. as
she watched that dying mother,
1t was a calm, placid morning; lght
gazy mist hung over the bright waters
and aowery June's laughing zephry camt
in the open easement, bearing upon thei
dewy wings the most delicious pelfume
from Flora's bowers. Valesis was sitting
by her mother in silence, for Mrs. Menart
was gazing u, on the broad spread feld
and waving woods. when servant an
nounctd Mr. Geo. Menard.
Mr.. Menard bent his tall form besid
the couch of his sister and kindly tool
her hand. .-...
THANK God you have come?" sh
murmured. George, will you be kint
to my little girl; will you take care OF he
for her fathers sake? She will soon hav
no one in the world to look TO but you"
Have not doubt as 10 her future vel
fare, he said; "she shall be to me rs m,
own daughter, cherished and loved by m.
household. You need not fear to trust be
with me-"
Mrs. .Menard's eyes spoke her thanks
Calling Valtsia to her bedside, she plac
Bible in her hands and said.
"Valesia, love your uncle; be a goo
girl and amid whatever trials and sutl
eriugs life may bring you, look on HigI
for support, aud let this book be you
guide"
She sank back upon her pillow and Va
lesia was soon an orphan.
Mr.. Menard turned and clasped her il
his arms, and there was bond of love an
union which in after years was Joy an
a comfort to both.
Valesia was fol a while inconsolable
Her grief was wild and violent, and as
wore away a shade of melancholy settle
upon her childish spirit, and the expires
sion of her large earnest eyes was soitl
sad. The hare est trial of all to the httl
girl was leaving the cottage.
Cant we live here, Uncle George
why must we go away" she asked,
because, my dear, I have a home
way down in Florida, and little girl {
ing own there very little older than yor
and now that your dear mother has gon
to heaven, you are to be her sister, an
my little girl, also. therefore you must
with me, and live wherel do"
20, l want to stay Ter, indeed l do!
sobbed Vslesia.
"My dear little Valesia, do you ne
think that you will be happy in your ne
homer l willlove you, your auntwill loV
you. and you will have our little Georg
, anna for playmate and sister"
"I know you will love me, Uncle Geo'g
but l do not think l can ever play as
used to; | want my near mamma. ar
when am here i, is just like can 81
her. and lear her talk to me, but if | 6
a away with you will leave her here a
:. alone, and, 0, Uncle George, l cannot g
/, indeed cannot" and covering her faC
with her hands she wept convulsivel
Mr.. Mensrd's heart sched for the little o
phan girl, and willingly would he hs'
r left her If he could. What to say to h
4 he knew not; he had no idea what arg
meut he could use that would avail an.
+ thing, aud he concluded to let her alol