The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1879-10-22
The w hite Lamb.
A STORY FOR CHILDREN.
written for The Morristown Gazette.

night search all the biographies OF the
world in vain, there lived poor woman
Who had little daughter named Agnes
That she was poor, and had child, was
nv no means wonderful, for poor people
are common to all parts of the earth; ana
as. for the matter of that, are children
too, for which the good God cannot be
enough thanked.
But this poor woman and child were
not altogether like the thousands who
surrounded her, as l shall show you IN
the course of my little story. For the
mother was exceedingly goOdly, and the
child was exceeding fair, and goodly TOO,
as far as a child could be. Not that chill
dren can not be as good, aye, and better |
than most grown people, but IN that |
country they were very bad and lgnor,
ant. It is true there were schools and |
academies there, and great colleges time |
houored and world renowned; but some
how or other the people were no better,
but on the contrary rather worse for all
these blessings.
Whether they neglected good, or good
neglected them, is not for US to inquire
now. but certain it is that the greater
mart of them grew up in ignorance and
vice, Now they need not have grown
up in vice unless they had preferred II to
virtue, though they could hardly have
| escaped life of ignorance. There were
many priests there to teach them the
folly of sin in this world, and It's eternaI
| punishment in the next. they were
| yery energetic in picturing the misery
| of sinners: but in spite of all they could
saw and do, they preached to thin ana
careless congregations, in consequence
of which many of their salaries were
unDa1d from one years end to another.
Most of the men spent their Sabbaths
in bull-balting and dOg-fghting; most OF
the women in gadding from house 10
house with budgets of scandal; while the
children ran off to the woods to snare
birds and gather berries, and ottentlmes
| To tight out a match made up the day
before. Black eyes were by no means
uncommon, with plenty more IN pros
nective when those were healed. rms
was the life of the mass OF people,
though l am happy to say there were
/ many exceptions in men, women, anu
children. who went to the chapel, as all
rood Christians should, and lived up to
| The precepts of the Good Book, as all
GOOD Christians do; among whom was
the mother and child began to tell you
about.
And not only did the good woman GO
4
APPOINTED holidays and feasts, but she
| endeavored to make her life perpetual
Sabbath unto the Lord. But the CHILD
because she was of tender age, cOulo
, | not always accompany her, nor under
, ! stand why she must always clasp hel
hands. and kneel down in the pew, wheI
| the Vicar did the same in his little pulpit
But she was a good child for all that, a.
the story will show, and loved her moth
er with an exceeding love. When sh(
was about three years of age her mothe
died. Her death however was by nc
: means unexpected. The only wonde
was that she had lived so long, sac va
so thin and sickly. Her husband haC
been dead a little over year. He lief
her nothing but his child and poverty,
1 common legacy among the poorer sOr
: of people in that country. After hi
death, She toiled late and early to main
tain herself and babe
MANY a dawn she arose before the sun
and the sun arose there very early
| Many a night she saw the moon set, anC
+ it sets very late at certain seasons of tn
! wear, but her labors were never done
the labOrs Of the poor aeYGF are untl
/ death comes. When death came to her
t | she rested from her work, and her worl
: | followed her. 1t was fine day in spring
| when they buried her. The fresh greer
earth was full of dew, the soft blue SIX.
: without cloud. 1t was day to max
r one certain OF Immortality, Few ant
3 uncOncerned were those who bore he
to the grave, they would rather hav
. gone to a merry-making, they wer
neighbors and nothing more; the dea
e woman left no friends, or relatives, onl
:. her child. When they reached til
Y church-yard, they found the old sexto
beside the grave, leaning on his spade
. ready to fill it again at the shortest nc
tice. The Vicar put on his bands, an
read the funeral service. Dust to dus
d ashes to ashes, but the spirit to Go
who gave it." The coffin was lOwere
into it's narrow house and the cart
thrown 4pon it, while the minister c
Christ exhorted the people around.
Little Agnes being left to herself b
81 those who had charge of her, straye
u down the winding paths, and was 500
; hidden among the grave-stones, whic
l were very thick, for the dead of age
!: were buried in that little church-yard
. At first she wondered why she had bee
y brought there, but the sky was so bly,
e above her, and the earth so beautltl
~ around, that she soon forgot II. Th
u shadow of death which falls heavily o
&c mist over the soul of a child. Larg
- butterflies with crimson and golde
= wings were flying to and fro in the al
q and the wild bee pursued its honey NAL
>, ing in the butter-GGps. She sat down
= tue long grass, and began TO weave IT
y blue YiOlets, as she had seen the baske
~ maker weave his rushes. Not mont
~ before, little girl of her own age WI
y laid with tears in the mound at her Zee
~ but the dew hung there as brightly as
the deep meadows and the sunshine FL
AZ ed the place like the smile of God. n
u ture mourns not like man for the des
% whom she has gathered to her BOSOM is
, peace. BY and by little Agnes began
T. grow drowsy, and in spite of all 81
IL could do to keep awake, she found h
y eyes closing and her head nOdding {
u her breast; so she repeated the pray
& her good mother had taught her to 81
before going to bed, and committed he
n, self to the care of her Heavenly Fathe
nc and in a moment was fast asleep, al
al walking in a dream with the ange
~ In the meantime the good Vicar havil
y finished his eXhOrtatiOn, and the Peep
nc having departed, began to wonder at
al absence, and search for her down t
d. path which he remembered to have Sc
her take Looking right and left amor
an the graYe-stones, and calling agnes
* with sweet low voice, he came to t
ne spot where she had fallen asleep. s
sr- was sleeping still, and beside her stoi
d. little lamb, innocent and beautifI
a; Its fleece was whittier than driven sno
OF and glittered in the sunlight like gOl
as There was golden collar around
IL neck, with an inscription in an unknOv
en- tongue, and its eyes were exceeding te
der and beautiful. There were no fol
in that country, and how it could he
sst come there was mystery which t
US Vicar could not explain, nor could t
m child when she awoke. She only
IL membered to have seen it in her dTeaI
rs following shepard in the pastures
ng Paradise. AS the Vicar stood lost
ks omazement n drew near him. and look
n m in his face with its lender and beau
|