The daily Green Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1861-1865, 1862-09-30
Trust in God.

Among the hills of New Hampshire there
was a noble farm, whose thriving cornfelds
were the pride Of the neighborhood. The
farmer was rich man, and his fine barns gran
cries, woodpiles. and well kept fences showed
that he looked well to his business he was
rich also 10 warm heart Tor he had no chill
dren of his own, he and his excellent wife took
one little motherless child after another to
their hearts and home, until six adopted chill
dren sat at their table and filled their house
with gladness. Nor did their riches end here.
He had treasure laid up in Heaven. The
farmer was rich in faith, and his pious exam
pie shone with beautiful light all around.
The little church not far off loved and honored
him, and made him one OF its officers. The
people loved and honored him, and u pointed
him selectman OF the village. \ Gsetul and
happy life was his.
Time went by with its changes, and some it
brought to the deacon. His children one by
one married and settled. At last his wife the
companion Of forty years, died, and he was
left alone, Old age had crept on, and he
began to need the affectionate care which in
other days he had so freely given to others,
A son invited him to make his house his home !;
and friends invited him to 60 and spend the
rest of his days in that case and comfort which
he could so well afford 1t was hard to sell
the old place but he could do what seemed
best, since loving it as he did, he looked for
ward to that sweeter est which remains tor
the people of God beyond the grave. 1t was
a sorrowiul day to that little Church when the
good man took his leave, and his seat was
empty in the pew.
In few years the son failed in business,
and the failure swept away the largest halt Of
the old mans property. Other losses followed
in its wake, and like Job he was we'll nigh
stripped of every thing Scarcely enough was
left for his daily bread Unwilling to be
5urthen tie yearned for his early home, and
only wished he might eud his days there
Back he Travelled TO his native village. He
Knocked at the old farm gate, and begged Tor
lodgings beneath the old farm root The young
farmer babe him welcome. A bargain was
struck, and the old man became hired servant
where he was once the master But no com
plant OF hard lot ever fell from his lips.
A sweet content filed his soul. Morning
midday and evening snatches of prayer and
praise tioted from his bedroom into the kitchen
and over the green, catching the ears OF the
young farmer and his wife, who often stopped
and hearkeaed to the strain.
But what could the old man do He could
no longer swing the axe, handle the hoe or
turn the furrow as he once had The hard,
rough work must be done by stronger hands
than his. All, there was work to be done,
precious work that he could do. There were
little children to be watched and tended, and
a burdened mother to relieve. And before
many months it was plain how their little
hands and hearts were stretched lovingly to.
ward him, and baby chirped more checrily in
bis arms. 1t was touching sight to see him
on the log under the old beech tree one IN his
bosom, another hugging his knees, third
kneeIing at his side, listening with eager face:
to little Moses hid in the burushes, O,
Samuel hearkening to God or the knocking
chlldrea ate up by bears or that sweet story
Of DID, the iutaDt Jesus in the maugcr the;,
own blessed Savior. The old man was neye,
tired Of these labors Of love. And do vor
think the father and mother could helm hear
ing what pleased their children 80 No, no
, HIS good wor s, and simple godly talk, sunl
/ deep into their hearts as we'll as the children
like small seeds into the bosoms of the earth
'Oh sighed the young mother 10 her inner