Year: 1872

From the lowly earth TO the vaulted skies,


And we mount to its summit round by round.
Put the Little Ones Happy TO


Red.


/ And think it no small service if you
can hiss them into good dreams, and
placid, restfll sleep A little child's
heart is wonderful instrument; from
it comes harmonies the tenderest and
wisest mother cannot always under
stand. How c8n we hope to do SO?
For to them is often revealed wisdom
'too high for us" and which we Scan
not attain to"


Who suffers as little child suffers?
What hours of touchy agony in the
dreary nursery? It is no use to forbid
ghost or fairy tales; there is no need;
every child finds them in his own
'thick-coming fancies." They were
ataodys there, types ofwhich the arch
etypes are Sn as and eternal.


Solitude and darkness are hell to
little children; atleast before you com
NIT them to it, let them feel that you
are within call of their foolish cry;
and whisper between the kisses of
your goodnight" assurances of Gods
love and watchfulness.


Up the dim avenue through the hot
poisoned air, heavy with the sicllly
fragrance of oleanders, there passed
my door one summer evening two
brothers, the eldest scarcely ten years
old. For moment they stopped
and spoke to me, and I noticed the
weary looks and the flushed faces of
the children, and fear that was
presentiment crossed my mind and
saddened my heart.


"Where have you been, boys!" I
said, ',your mother is anxious and
angry. Do you not know that the
fever is raging and that the night air
is full of death"


"We were trying to catch some
trout for mother, but something was
the matter, the fish would not bite,
and Willie's head ached so bad I had
to carry him most of the way home"


The little speaker was SO weary or
sick that he caught at the railing for
support. I opened the gate, and,
lifting the youngest child, walked the
few yards necessary to see them safe
ly home.


1t was nearly dark, SO there was
some excuse for the mother not no
ticing in the shaded piazza whatI had
seen at the garden gate. She met
them with reproofs for their delay,
and contempt for want ofsuccess, and
then hurried them into the dining
room, saying: ~


'EEat as quickly as you can and
then go to bed"


I waited half an hour, but the boys
did not appear.


"Where are the children?" 1 asked.


"Oh, they are gone to bed; they
were too tired to eat.
Perhaps they are sick, I suggest
ed. Willy had very flushed face,
and the fever is raging to-day"


"Oh, no! They are natives, and
are thoroughly acclimated. John
has been through three epidemics,
and I fancy Willy had asmuch yellow
fever as ever he Will have, nearly two
years ago"


Ineyer saw the little fellows again.
They were both buried in one grave
the next day. No one knew they
were sick until they were in
sensible, and almost in their
last moments. They muttered in
delirious stupor of the fish "they
could not catch for mothers break
fast"


And for the poor, wretched mother
there came never more in this world,
a moment in which she could soothe
their wounded little hearts, or say
one atoning word for her last thought
less sneer at their want of skill.


Say goodnight" to your little
ones as if you were saying ''good-by."
The angels may want them before
dawn of morning. 1t is hard enough
to bear when grief alone fills the
place of your absent ones; but when
renaorSe sits in the empty chair, and
your last memory of the dear little
face is that of wronged and SORROW
full child, it is haunting reproach
which you may hardly hope in this
world to dismiss.





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