Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, 1896-10-24

tered all up and down the stairs just as
she left them. What if the hand that
plucked four clocks out of the meadow
is still? 1t will wave in the eternal cri-
umph. What if the voice that made
music in the home is still? 1t will sing
the eternal hosanna. Put white rose
in one hand, red rose in the other
hand and wreath of orange blossoms
on the brow; the white flower for the
victory, the red flower for the Saviour's
sacrifice, the orange blossoms for her
marriage day. Anything CHASTITY about
that? Oh, mol The sun went down and
the flower shut. The wheat thrashed out
of the straw. Dear Lord, 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. Longfellow,
writing letter of coincidence to those
parents, said, "Those last words were
beautifully poetic" And Mr.. Longfel-
low knew what is poetic. Dear Lord,
give me sleep.
Twas not In cruelty. not in wrath,
That the reaper camo that day.
Twas an angel that visited tho earth
And took the flower away.
So it may be with US when our work
is all done. "Dear Lord, give me sleep. p"
The Garncring.
have one more thought to present.
l have spoken of the blowing, Of the
sowing, of the narrowing, of the reap
ing, of tho thrashing. must now speak
a moment of the garnering.
Where is the garner? Need I tell your
Oh, no! So many have gone out from
your own circles-yea, from your own
family-that you have had your eyes on
that garner for many year. What a
hard time some of them had In Geth-
semanes of suffering they sweat great
drops of blood. They took the "cup of
trembling" and they put it to their hot
lips, and they cried, IF it be possible,
let this cup pass from me-" With
tongues of burning agony they cried, 80
Lord, deliver my soulr' But they got
over it. They all got over it. Garneredl
Their tears wiped away; their battles
all ended; their burdens lifted. Car
nered! The Lord Of the harvest will not
allow those sheaves to perish III the
equinox. Garnered! Some of US remem-
Der, on the farm, that the sheaves were
put Oh the top rack which surmounted
the wagon, and these sheaves were piled
higher and higher, and after awhile the
horses started for the barn, and these
sheaves swayed to and fro in the wind,
and the old wagon creaked, and the
horses made struggle, and pulled so
hard the harness came up i'll loops OF
leather on their backs, and when the
front wheel struck the elevated door OF
the barn it seemed as if the load would
20 no farther until the worknen gave
great shout, and then, with one last
tremendous strain, the horses pulled in
the load; then they were embarrassed,
and forkful after forkful of grain fell
into the NOW. Oh, my friends, our get
ting to heaven may be pull, hard
pull, IL very hard pull; but these sheaves
are bound to go in. The Lord OF the
harvest has promised it. l see the load
at last coming to the door Of the heay-
emily garner. The sheaves Of the Chris
tian soul sway to and fro in the wind OF
death, and the old body creaks under
the load and as the load strikes the
floor of the celestial garner, it seems as
if it can go no farther. 1t is the last
struggle, until the voices of angels and
the voices Of our departed kindred and
the welcoming voice of God shall send
the harvest rolling into the eternal tri-
umph, while all up and down the sky
the cry is heard: Harvest home! Har-
vest home!'