Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1890-08-29

cles your black spectsclcs. full up the cor
ners OF your mouth as far as you pun theD
down. To the fields Reap. reap!
Again / remark, in grace as ~ farming
there Is time for threshing. l tell you
bluntly that is death. Just asa farmer Oeats
the wheat out OF the straw 70 death beats tue
soul out OF the body. Every sickness Is
stroke OF the fail, ani the sic&Dei tne
thresling floor. What say you, is death u
A good man only taking the wheat out OF tas
straw That is all. An aged man has fallen
asleep Only yesterday you sa " hun IN tne
sunny porch playing with his grandchildren,
Calmly he received the message To leave tn's
world. He bade a pleasant good-by 10 ms ola
friends. The Telegraph carries the hdings'
and on swift rail thins the kindred come,
wanting once more to look on the face oil
dear old grandfather. Brush back the gray
hairs from his brow IL will never ache again.
Put him away in the slumber OF the tomb.
He will not be afraid of that night. Grand-
father was never afraid OF anything. de
will rise In the morning OF the resurrection.
Grandfather was always the hrst 70 rise.
His voice has already mingled In the doxol,
ogy OF heaven. Grandfather always did
sing in church. Anything CHASTITY In that
No. The threshing OF the wheat out OF tue
straw. That is all.
The Saviour folds a lamb In His bosom.
The little child filed all the house with her
music, and her toys are scattered all up and
down the stairs Just as shs left them. what
| IL the hand that plucsed four o'clocks out OF
the meadow Is stilli II will wave the eternai
! triumph. What il the voice that made mu'
sic in the home is still' 1t will sing the
eternal hosanna. Put white rose In one
! hand and a red rose In the other hand, ana
| a wreath OF orange blossoms on the brow;
the white flower for the victory, the rel
flower for the Saviour's sacrifice, the orange
Blossoms for her marriage day. Anything
CHASTITY about that, Oh, no. The sun went
down and tbs flower shut The wheat
threshed out OF the straw. Dear Loro,
give ME sleep said dying boy, the son OF
one OF my elders; Dear Lord, give me
sleep" And he closed his eyes and awoke In
glory. Henry W. Longiellow, writing iet
ter OF coincidence to those parents, SAID:
Those last words wsrs beautifully poetic:
De r Lord, give me sleep"
Tws, not In cruelty. not in wrath
That the reaper came that day;
Twas an angel that visited the earth
And took the flower away.
So It may be with Us when our work Is all
done. "Dear Lord, give me sleep"
I have ons moro thought to present, l
have spoken Of the piowing OF the sowing,
OF the narrowing, of the reaping, OF IN;
threshing. l must now speak moment Oh
the garnering.
Where is the garners Need tell your Oh,
no. SO many have gone out from your OWL
circles-yea, from your own family-tha'
you have had your eyes on that garner fol
many a year. What a hard time some o
them had In Gethsemanes OF suffering thc J
sweat great drops of blood. They took thu
'cup OF trembling" and they put 1t to theil
hot lips and they cried: III 1t be possible
let this cup pass from mo-" With tongues
of burning agony they cried: 20 Lord, de
liver my souir' But they got over 1t. The,
all got over it Garueredl Their tears wipec
away; their battles all ended-their bur
dens lifted Garneredl The Lord OF tn
harvest will not allow those sheaves
perish in the equinox. Garnered! Som
OF US remember, on the farm, that tn
, sheaves were put on the top OF the racs
!, which surmouuted the wagon, and thes
sheaves were piled higher and higher. am
. after O while the hcrses started for tn
|, barn: an these sheaves swayed to and fr
|, in the wind, and the old wagon creake
, and the horses made a struggle and puue
. 50 hard the harness came uD in loops @
leather on their backs, and when the iron
wheel struck the elevated floor OF the BAR
it seemed as IL the load would 60 no farthe
a until the workmen gave great shout an
= then with one last tremendous strain Oh
/ horses pulled in the load; then they were UT
a harnessed and forkful after forkful OF graz
fell into the NOW. Oh, my friends. our sc
. ting into heaven may bs pull hard pull
:, a very hard pull; but these sheaveo al
|. bound to go in. The Lord OF the harve'
has promised It. SEQ the load at last cou
v ing In the door OF the heavenly garner. Til
: sheaves OF the Christian soul sway to and Fl
Y In the wind Of death, and the old body croas
4 under the load, and as the load strikes th
;, aoor OF the celestial garner 1t seems as il
= can 90 no farther. 1t Ia the last struggl
y until the voices OF angels and the voices {
81 our departed kindred and the welcomin
: voice OF God shall send the harvest rollin
. into eternal triumph, while all up and dow
a the sky the cry Is heard: Harvest hom
! Harvest homeP