The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1860-12-25

con1ding race. we have not received the ln-
struction, nor attained the knowledge that
they have in tho cities but we have our be-
liels, which the townsfolk call supertitution.
What matters the name? Be they supersti-
tious or beliefs, we have them, and clever
would be the man that could uproot them.
Now, one Of these beliefs to which we cling
the most, is that which attributes to the first
flower that blows 10 the grave mould such a
virtue that he who gathers it is certain Of new.
or forgetting the dead, and of never being for
gotten by them. Belief, how dear, how
sweet With it, death has no terrors; for
death, without forgetting, or being forgotten,
is but sweet sleep, but calm repose after a
long trial. That flower-I planted to see it
bud-I painted to gather it q! 1 abandoned my
post and went on my way. After ten days
Of long and weary march, reached my moth
er's grave. The earth seemed yet fresh-no
flower appeared. WAITED Six weeks elaps.
ed, and then one lovely morning saw a lt.
tie blue tlpwer-'torgnt mr-not' AS pluck
ed it | she'd glad tears, for mc,hought that
was my mothers sonl, that she had felt that
WIS near and that, undar the form Of that
flower, she hal given herself u my heart
once more.
There was nothing now to detain me in
the country, for my father had soon followed
my mother to the grave, and had plucked
my precious flower; what more did | want
rem cmbered my mothers Charge DO thy
duty! | sought the gems d'drmes, aud |
said, Il am deS, rtcr-arIest me. Il
And now | am t. die, and #, rs yoa assured
me, have in you friend, die without re-
gret, for you viii do for me the only service ]
require. The flower which, at the risk of
my life, plucked from the gray is here, in
little case next to my heart Promise me
that YOU will see that they do not take it
from me. 1t is the LUX which urtes me tc
my mother; and if l though it would be
broken-oh. should not have the courage
to die. II Il Say, do you promise to
do what 1 ask Of your
4 PROMISE said the officer.
Your hand, that may press it to my
heart. You are very kind to me; and if the
Almighty God were, in his omnipotence, to
give me my life second time, would de-
vote it to you
The friends parted.
The next day had dawned. They arrived
at the place Of execution; and already had
the fatal sentence been read, when the low
murrnur that ran through the ranks changed
into almost deafenng shouts
The Emperor the Emperor! Long live
the Emperor!
He appeared, dsmounted from his horse;
and then, with his short, quick step, be walk
ed up to the condemned.
Pierre said he to him. Pierre gazed at
him, and made an effort to speak, but sud-
den stupor seemed to overwhelm him. 'Pier-
re- continued the Emperor, remember your
own words of last night. God gives thee life
second time; devote i. not to me, but to
France! She, too, is kind mother! Love
her as thou did'st thy frst-thine own.'
He then turned to depart, and greeting
shouts of admiring love followed him till he
was out Of sight.
Some years after this, a captain of the Old
Guards fell mortally wounded on the field of
Waterloo.
Amid the din Of battle, he was heard to
shout in bis death pangs:
"Long live the Emperor! France forever!
My mother My mother!
1t was Pierre Pitois.