Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1861-01-03
er moved softly about preparing teas and cor


our occupations and hear our talk. 1t was done
accordingly, aud he was left alone My moth.
er smiled, saying she hoped he might yet get
well, but my father shook his head monrnfuly
and answered, " He wishes to go withoat our
knowledge" He made amplest provision for
bis family always, ard | believe had kind
nature, but he manifested no little fondness
nor did he wish caresses for himself Contrary
to the general tenor of his character, was
love of quiet jests, that renamed to the last
Once, as Carry gave him some drink, he said,
lyon know my wishes about your future,
expect you to be mindful"
| stole to the door of his room in the hope
that he wonld say something to me, but he did
not, and went nearer close to the bed, and
timidIy took his hand in mine; how damp and
cold it felt! yet he spoke not, and climbing
npon the chair, put back his thin locks, and
kissed his forehead. Child you trouble me-"
he'said, and these were the last words he ever
spoke to me.
The sun sunk lower and lower, throwing a
beam Of light through the little window, quite
across the carpet, aud now it reached the sick
mans room, climbed over the bed and up the
WALL he turned his face away, and seemed to
atmosphere grew dense and dusky, but with
ont clouds, and the orange light changed to a
dull aud lurld red and the dying and dead leaves
fell silently to the ground, for there was no wind
aud the fowls few into the trees, and the grey
moths came from beneath the bushes and flnt
tered in the waning light. From the hollow
tree by the mill came the bat, wheeling and
fitting blindly about, and once or twice its
wings struck the window of the sick mans
chamber The last sunlight faded of at length,
aud the rumbling of the mill-wheel was still he
has fallen asleep in listening to its music.
The next Gay came the funeral What
deSolate time it was! All down the lane were
wagons and carriages and horses, for every
body that knew my grandfather had come to
pay him the last honors owe can co him no
further good" they said, "but it seemed right
that we should come" Close by the gate wait
ed the little brown wagon to bear the coffin
to the grave, the wagon which he was used to
ride in while living. The heads of the horses
were dropping, and thought they looked con-
sciously sad.
The day was mild 'and the doors and
windows of the old house stood all open, so
that the people without could hear the words OF
| remember of hearing my mother sob, and Of
seeing my grandmother with her face buried in
her hand, and of seeing aunt Garry sitting
erect, her face pale but fearless, and Oliver
near her, with his hands folded across his
breast save once or twice, when be lifted them
to brush away tears
did not cry, save from a frightened and
strange feeling, but kept wishing that we
were not so near the dead, and that it were
another day. | tried to push the reality away
with thoughts Of pleasant things-in vain. l
remember the hymn, and the very air in which
it was sung.
eye fearful souls fresh courage take.
The clouds We much dread,
Are big with mercy, and shall break
Ia blessings your head.
Blind unbeiet is sure to err,
And scan his works in vain;
God is his interpreter
p. and he viii make 1t plain
Near the door blue fagstones were laid,
bordered with a row of strawberries and trees,
with liacs, and roses, and pears, and peach
trees, which my grandfather had planted long
ago, and here, in the open air, the coffin was
placed, and the white cloth removed and fold
ed over the lid | remember how it shook and
trent bled as the gust came moaning from the
woods, and died off over the next bill, and
that two or three withered leaves fell on the
face of the dead, which Oliver gently removed
and brushed aside q yell0w winged butterfly
that hovered near.
The friends hung over the unsming corpse
till they were led weeping and one by one
away; the hand Of some cne rested for a mo-
ment on the forehead and then the white cloth
was replaced, and the lid screwed down. The
coffin was placed In the brown wagon, with
sheet folded about it, and the long train NOV.
ed slowly to the battle-ground woods, where
the woods "dust to dust" were followed by the
rattlug of the earth, and the sunset light fell
there a moment, and the dead leaves blew
across the smoothly shapen mound.
When the will was read, Oliver found him
self heir to a fortune-the mill and the home
stead and half The m-provided he married
Garry, which suppnse he did, for though |
do not remember the wedding, have had an
aunt Caroline Hlhouse almost as long as |
can remember The luuatic sister was sent to
an asylum, where she sung songs about faith
less lover till death took her up and opened
her eyes in heaven. The mother was brought
home and she aud my grandmother lived at
their case, and sat in the corner, aud told
stories of ghosts, and witches, and marriages,
and deaths for long years. Peace to their
memories for they have both gone home: and
the lame brother is teaching school, in his
leisure playing the flute and reading Shaks-
peare-al the book he reads.
Years have come and swept me away from
my childhood, from its innocence and blessed
unconsciousness of the dark, but often comes
back the memory of its first sorrow
Death is less terrible to me now.
} REEnRE the daYS of the teetota alers neigh-