The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-12-10

of them dead, and the kings wagons viii
take you up to see them. You often think
how glad you will be to see them. Have
you never thought, my brother, my sister,
how glad they will be to see you? Jacob
was no more glad to see Joseph than
Joseph was to see Jacob. Every time the
door in heaven opens, they look to
once standing in the palace, burst out cry
ing when he thought of Jacob-afar off.
And the heaven of your little ones will not
be fairly begun until you get there. All
the kindnesses shown them by immortals
will not make them forget you. There
they are, the radiant throngs that went out
from your honest l throw a kiss to the
sweet darlings. They are all well now in
the palace. The crippled child has sound
foot now. A little lame child says: "Ma,
will be lame in heaven" mo, my darl-
ling, you won't be lame III heaven A
little sick child says: Ma, will he sick in
havenH' "No, my dear you won't be sick
in heaven" A little blind child says: "Ma,
will | be blind in heavenW ''No, my dear,
you won't be blind in heaven" They are
all well there
In my boyhood, for some time we lived
three miles from church, and on stormy days
the children stayed at home, but father and
mother always went to church; that was a
habit they had. On those stormy Sabbaths
when we stayed at home, the absence of our
parents seemed very much protracted for
the roads were very bad, and they could not
get on very fast So we would go the
window at twelve O'clock to see if they were
coming, and then we would go at half-past
twelve to see if they were coming, ana at a
quarter to one, aud then at one O'Clock.
After a while Mary, or David, or Dewitt
would shout: "The wagons comingm and
then we would see it winding out of the
woods, and over the brook, and through the
lane, and up in front of the old farm house :;
and then we would rush out, leaving the
doors wide open, with many things to tell
them, asking them many questions. Well,
my dear brethren, I think we are many
of us in the Kings wagon, and
we are on the way home. The
road is very bad, and we get on slowly;
but after while we will come winding out OF
the woods. and through the brook of death,
and up in front of the old heavenly home
stead; and our departed kindred, who have
been waiting and watching for us, will
rush out through the doors and over the
lawn, crying: 1.-THE wagons are comingl
the kings wagons are comingP Hark! the
bell of the city hall strikes twelve. Twelve
o'clock on earth, and likewise it is high
noon in heaven.
Does not the subject of to-day take the
gloom out of the thoughts that would other
wise be struck through with midnight!
We used to think that when we died we
would have to go afoot, sagging down in
the mire, and the hounds of terror might
get after us, and if we got through into
heaven at all, we would come in torn, and
wounded, and bleeding. l remember when
my teeth chartered and my knees knocked
together when | heard anybody talk about
death; but have come to think that the
grave win be the softest bed | ever slept in,
and the bottom of nv feet will not be wet
with the passage of the Jordan. "Them
that sleep in Jesus will God bring with
him."
| was reading of Robert Southey, who
said he wished he could die far away from
his friends-like a dog, crawling into a
corner and dying unobserved. Those were
his words. Be it ours to die on a couch
surrounded by loved ones, so that they
with us may hear the glad, sweet, jubilant
announcement: "The kings wagons are
comingp Hark? l hear them now. Are
they coming for you or me!