The Grenada sentinel. [volume] (Grenada, Miss.) 1868-1955, 1889-02-23
GRENADA, MISS, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 70, 1889.

| of ambition-all had been crushed beneath
| them, until now his time had come to die.
| Worn and shattered by the conflicts of life
| the old soldier of the Cross was now passing
from the field of his glory, victorious, yet moi
| unscarred.
| The evening sun was just throwing its last
rays abroad, and they poured through the
| open easement upon the dying mans bed, q
flood Of light, covering him with what seemed
| like drops of heavenly dew.
The white locks were combed carefully
back from his forehead, and the pale line
that ran across showed plainly that his life
had been one of exposure and of toll, that had
darkened and embrowned the complexion OF
his youth. Beside him stood his only son
and daughter. They had long before bid
\ adieu to the mother of their love, and he was
all that bound them to the past The finger o.
affection was slowly turning from loved ones
behind-the friends Of their infancy and
childhood-as they had fallen, one by one,
and it was soon to point to loved ones before
them, and to scenes yet 10 come, as the only
| object of their care and solicitude.
| The old man had been told that he was
soon to die, and a solemn stiffness had sue
ceeded the announcement, while they were
waiting tealfully and anxiously to know the
thoughts that We're fitting through his mind.
At length he addressed his .children each by
name, He was ready to die--his race was
run. Why should he fear? 'He had fought
the good fight, he had kept the faith"
"And yet my children SAID he, 81 find my
heart going out for you still. Forty years ago,
| william, carried you IN my arms. l watched
over your youth you, in turn, have been the
protector and supporter of my .old age. We
have trod the path OF life good way on to-
gether. We might have been otherwise, Will
liam but am going home first. 1t is all
WE'LL am dry and wlthered tree, and it is
meet that should be cut down now. May
the God of my youth, my beloved son, be the
God Of your agc!"
"You are your mothers own child, Annie ;
l see in your face the same kind look Of her
whose name you bear, when she was the
stay and comfort of my manhood.
She is gone, and am soon % follow her.
You have taken her place since she died, my
daughter, and have borne long with my
complaining years. My own dear Annie, l
doubt not, will be the first to welcome me
among the glorfied ones"
The old man fastened his gaze upward, as
| ifhe was thinking of the scenes he was soon
to enter. Ere long his eyes rested sadly on
his children, and he said in low voice, sob.
my children, may be SHINING to cling to
| earth when heaven Is before me, but few
fathers have ever such children to leave.
| lNI ha tS
weak |" He paused, and while the tears ST.
| lently fell from the eyes of the strong man by
his side, and sthe face of his daughter was
buried in the coverlet, his thoughts were
with his God, in prayer. Silence rested for a
few moments on the scene, broken. at last
by the murmured words of the falling Chris
| tian:
at is only-good night-only good night F.;
we shall meet again when the daWning
comes"
So hours passed on. Now there was oflove,
of exhortation,: of advice to his children, and
again the silent communion of the heart
with Heaven. The pulse grew fainter, and
I the hearts throbbing was almost lmpercept-
ible his last hour drew visibly nigh. In the
course of the night, his son asked him if he
had any wishes to express as to arrangement
at his funeral.
| ''No, my son, no. would be laid by YOU
mother and the samstree we planted there
years ago, for her, can shade my resting place
also Reynold will lake care of my pooI
body. have followed him years and years
as he has led the funeral trains to that dea
old church, and he will follow me now ant
and bury me peacefully"
The old chorister was silent for n few mo
ments he was thinking of that last scene. A
strange aud peculiar expression crept ove
his counenance, as he spoke again:
~ am foolish, perhaps, william; but dc
want one thing 1t may seem simple ant
weak but an old man may bc pardoned IL
his last wish. When my father died, they
sang the old Farewell Anthem" at his fun
eral when your mother was taken from me
we sang it again, and felt happy as we sant
the words:
"God grant that we may meet again,
In that world above in that world nbove'
would have the old choir sing that, JUS
before am carried to the grave. Theseyounl
singers do not know it; it has been lost .
good many years. But no matter, william
no matter Tit is not just right" Midnigh: pass
ed by, and the early dawn Redeemed the east
but before the sun rose, the sun of the Ole
chorister's life had set. He slept with hii
fathers, and, when the day broke and th'
busy hum Of industry was heard in our vii
lage streets, the solemn tones OF ihe old
church bell broke on the morning air, and
the children counted the age by the number
of ofstrokcs-eighty seven years.
Two days passed away and on sunday Afternoon