The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1860-04-20

brought from the walled gardens Of rich mer
farther down in the cultivated strath, grew
here with somewhat diminished lustre; O
bright show Of tulips had strange beauty
in the midst of that moorland; and the smell
Of roses mixed we'll with that Of the clover,
the beautiful fair clover that loves the soil
and the air of Scotland, and gives the rich
and balmy milk to the poor mans lips.
In this cottage, Gilbert's youngest child,
girl about nine years Of age, had been ly'
ing for week in fever. II was now Sat-
urday evening, and the ninth day Of tho dis.
ease. Was she to live or die? 1t seemed
Us if very few hours were between the in.
nocent creature and Heaven. All the symp.
toms were those Of approaching death. The
parents knew we'll the change that comes
over the human face, whether it be in inian.
cy, youth, or prime, just before tho depart.
ure Of the spirit; and Us they stood together
by Margaret's bed, it seemed to them tina,
the fatal shadow had fallen upon her features.
The surgeon Of the parish lived some miles
distant, but they expected him now every
moment, and many wishful look was di.
rected by fearful eyes along the moor. The
daughter, who was out ut service, came
anxiously home on this night, the only one
that could be allowed her, for the poor must
work in their grief, and their servants must
do their duty to those whose bread they eat,
even when nature is sick-sick at heart
Another OF the daughters came in from the
potatoe-field beyond the br9, with what was
to be their frugal supper. The calm, noise
less spirit oflife was in and around the house,
while death seemed dealing with one who, n
few days ago, was like light upon the floor,
and the sound of music, that always breath
ed up when most wanted; glad and joyous
in common alk-sweet, silvery, and mourn
full, when it joined in hymn or psalm, One
after the other, they all continued going up
tn the bedside, and then coming away, sob
bing or silent, to see their merry little sister,
who used to keep dancing all day like but
terny in meadow field, or like butterfly
with shut wings on flower, triaing for u
while in the silence of her joy, now tossing
rsstlessly on her bed, and scarcely sensible
to the words of endearmcnt whispered around
hr, or the kisses dropt with tears, in spite
of themselves, ON her burning forehead.
Utter poverty often kills the affections;
but deep, constant, and common feeling
of this worlds hardship, and an equal par
ticipation in all those struggles by which
they may b. soltened, unite husband and
wife, parents and children, brothers and sis
tiers, in thoughtful and subdued tenderness,
making them happy indeed while the circle
round the fire is unbroken, and yet prcpar-
ing them every day to bear the separation,
when some one or other is taken slowly or
suddenly away. Their souls are not moved
by fits and starts, although, indeed, nature
sometimes will wrestle with necessity; and
there is wise moderation both in the joy
and the gricf of the intelligent poor, which
keeps lasting trouble away from their earth
" lot, and prepares them silently and un-
consciously for Heaven.
"Do you think the child is dying? ?" said
Gilbert, with calm voice, to the surgeon,
who, on his wcaried horse had just arrived
from another sick bed, over the misty range
Of hills; and had been looking steadfsstly
for some minutes on the little patient. The
humane man knew the family well, in the
midst of whom he was standing, and replied,
"whle there is life there is hope; but my
pretty little Margaret is, fear, in the last
extremity" There was no loud lamentaton
at these words-all had before known, tho
they would not confess II to themselves, what
they now were told-and though the GER
tainty that was in the words of the skilful
man made their hearts beat for little with
scker throbbings, made their pale faces
paler, and brought out from some eyes q
greater gush of tears, yet death had been be-
fore in this house, and in this case he came,
as he always does, in awe, but not in terror.
There were wandering and wayering and
dreamy delirious phantasies in the brain Of
tho innocent child, but the few words she
indistinctly uttered were affecting, not rend-
ing to the heart, for it was plain that she
thought herself herding her sheep in the
green silent pastures, and sitting wrapped in
her plaid upon the lawn and sunny side Of
the Birk-knowe. She was too much ex-
hausted-there was too little life-too little
breath in her heart, TO frame tune; hut
some of her words seemed TO befrom fayorite
old songs; and at last her mother wept, and
turned aside her face, when the child, whose
blue eyes were shut, and her lips almost still,
breathed out these lines Of the beautiful
twenty-third psalm:
The Lord s my Shepherd, IL not want,
He makes me down to lie
In pastures green; He leadeth me
The quiet waters by.
The child was now left with none but her
mother BY the bedside, for 1t was said to be
best so and Gilbert and his family sat down
round the kitchen FIRE, for while IN silence.
In about quarter OF an hour they began to
rise calmly, and to 60 each to his allotted
work. One the daughters went forth with
the pail to milk the COW. and another began
to set out the table in the middle of the floor
for supper, covering it with white cloth.
Gilbert viewed the usual household arrange
ments with q solemn and untroubled eye;
and there was almost the faint light Of a
grateful smile on his cheek. as he said to the
worthy surgeon, f" You will partake Of our
fare after your days travel and toll of hui
manity." In short silent half hour the
potatoes and oat-cakes, butter and milk,
were on the board: and Gilbert, lifting up
his toil-hardened, but manly hand, with
slow motion, at which the room was as hush
ell rs if II had been empty, closed his eyes in
reverence, and asked blessing There was
little stool, on which no one sat, by the old
man side. 1t had been put there unwitting-
ly, when the other seats were oil placed in
their usual order; but the golden head that
was wont to rise ut that part Of the table
was now wanting. There was silence-not
word was said-ther meal was before them
God had been thanked, and they began to
eat.
While they were at their silent meal a
horseman came galloping to tho door, and,
with loud voice, called out that he had
been sent express with letter to Gilbert
Ainslie; Mt the same time rudely. and with
an oath, demanding dram for his trouble.
The eldest .on. lad Of eighteen. fercely
seized the bride Of his horse and turned his
head away from the door. The rider, some
what alarmed at the flushed face of the DOW