The Portland daily press., 1862-10-21
The Open Window.
Little Charlie is dead y,

Little Charlie is deade'
repeated the words very sadly and though
no audible voice from the tree-top above me
had spoken them | glanced upward to the
windows, which for fourteen days had been
wholly darkened; shutters and curtains were
Withdrawn at last, and the fresh breeze and
golden light drifted freely in.
knew that on the couch where Charlie had
tossed and moaned, parched with fever. and
smitten with grievous pain, there lay only an
altered, stiffening shape which we had loved
and pitied as our Charlie;" but the real being
whose gay young life made beauty all around
it, was not there. One wiser and more pitying
than ourselves had called the little boy, and In
the night he had arisen, saying, "thy servant
heareth," and gone outward to walk with the
Lord.
1t was an exquisite morning in early ar-
tumn. Not a cloud vailed the intense blue of
the sky, luminous with depths of sunshine !:
ana beneath every tree scarlet and purple
shadows played, while the wind, swaying their
branches. seemed TO call up tender memories
from each warm, sturdy heart. Deadm
echoed the word as, lingering by the hall-open
gate, hesitated to enter it. In the glad day
overfiowing with brilliancy, what room was
there for so dark syllable?
Charlie was the child of neighbor, beau
tiful and winning little spirit as ever sojourned
in human clay. Full OF restless precious lfe
the light links OF existence were fretted away
by the ceaseless strain and jar of the imprison-
ed soul. We knew that he must Ieave us. but
forgetiul of previous warning. the death of my
fayorite came to me with the sharp pang OF
an unheralded woe. Regaining with an effort
a degree of composure. entered the house of
mourning. The hush which severe sickness
imposes, the shdd0lc of a mystery yet to be re-
vealed, which envelop dwelling so consecrat-
ed, were exchanged for the dread certainty of
helpless grief. Charlie was dead!
How many times during the past fortnight
had | entered that room, whose repressed
sights and sounds were familiar? With what
painful foreboding had fingered in its gloom.
which typifed - ~ the cherished hopes
that here periS | crossed its thresh-
hold | half hear the stifed moaa
OF the sick a Child; but he breathed
an air which foslckness poisons, and the body
was at rest forever. What change had few
hours wrought in this apartment! The soft,
rich ar OF the Indian summer stole through
the windows no longer guarded, and the sun
shine stretched its golden beams upon the
floor and walls-further, it slanted across the
pure linen that was folded above the sleeper,
and TO the delicate features and sunny hair
gave somewhat oi the glad vitality OF life
Every leaf futtering, every blrd-note, every
whisper OF the wide world without. spoke of
rejoicing. II shall go to him" said my heart
responslvely, and L conld almost weep tears of
gladness that the gift OF immortal youth was
SO early granted to Charlie.
new train OF thought passed my mind as,
standing by the dead boy, watched the play
of light and shade around the small couch 50
long yelled IN darkness.
While yet there remained the uncertainty of
lie poised IN the scales OF Eternity, .he turbid
waters OF affection were stirred to blackest
agitation with every dreaded possibility
Through this oppressive atmosphere every
shl ring hope which centered in Charles eXis-
tence had cleaned forth in sudden, singing
remembrance-all the JOY that had been; the
lalth ouilooking to years of developed man
hood: Now eoldly and dreaiily rose instead