River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1904-03-31

dead. 1t shone with particular bright
ness on one marked by slender gran.
tie shaft
Agnes entered the cemetery and walked
rapidly down the avenue that lay nearest
this mound. Leaning her head YEARLY
against its monument she remained mo-
tionless, with closed eyes and drawn
brows. What though the south wind
caressed so lightly the silent home of
the sleepers? 1t would pass on to riot
among scenes of gaiety. The sunshine,
too, would soon desert them for some
less lonely spot Darkness would come
as the darkness that had settled over her
life. How could there be light hearts
and songs and gladness in this sad, sad
world? Life was so pitifully brief, and
death was over all. Yes, life itself was
death. They had tried to tell her that
she would meet her dearest again, but
did they know? No, no, they could not.
And she was young yet. How could she
endure the long life that stretched be-
fore her, the years that must pass be-
fore she could interpret the mystery of
death? Oh, if she might valy receive
some message, some least tsken that
Arthur still lived.
She shifted her eyes for moment
to the blue sky and then brought them
YEARLY back to earth. Close by the
monument little pale flower, one OF
springs first hepaticas, had pushed its
frail petals above the ground and was
lifting its tiny head to the sunlight.
Agnes bent over it and tenderIy drew
away the dead grass. How came it
there? By human hand? No, it had
risen from the dead. Risen from the
dead" she repeated softly to herself.
Yes, it had died with the summer, but
only to await earth's resurrection day,
when from the germ of it's old dead
self sprang this wonurous new life,
this pure and beautiful thing She
touched tenderly its petals with
strange feeling of awe. 1t seemed to
breathe out a message of hope and
trust, a token of Gods own love. 1t
told her of the new life that begins with
the decay Of the old, of immortality
beyond death, of an eternity when
faith that is stronger than sight, and
of a God of love.
Long Agner knelt over the little
blossom that spoke comfort to her soul,
until she had come to learn that life is
not death, but death is life; that love
lives beyond the grave, for it Is eternal.
Her heart was softened at last. Then
tar L. ix Rrct hot ho1
wet her lashes since that terrible days
When, after long time, the passion of
her sobs had worn away, she rose and
left the cemetery, taking with her the
little flower that had brought her mes
sage from him who, though the doorway
of death, had passed into life.
The morning service in First church
was not yet concluded when little fig
ure clad in black entered softly and
stole into the first vacant pew. The
beautiful Easter lilies at the altar had
a message for at least one soul in the
congregation that morning. From the
pulpit came the closing words of the
sermon: Because I live, we shall live
also" They are the words of the Son
of God himself, who hath tasted death
for every man. In the face of this Di-
vine attestation to the immortality of
the soul, we canont but cry: ooh, Death,
where is thy sting? o Grave, where lie
thy victory?"
Upon the hush that followed the min
listers words came the strains of the
great organ, which swelled and throbbed
with it's glad message. The congregation
arose and sang, Christ, the Lord, is risen
to-day"
With the last stanza, voice of won
derful power and pathos rose above
the others, and the people turned to
see a fair, sweet face, upon which shone
the light of faith triumphant, as Ag-
mes Norwood sang the words, as she
had never sung before:
made like Him, like Him we rise,
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies."-.
The Housekeeper.