Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Little Mariana Cross. many friends of Mrs. Cross, whose jfltal writings have endeared lier to thousands (Mb' of children in the South, will learn, with fpain, of the death of her bright little daughter, Mariana, who fell a victim to that dreadful scourge —yellow fever — which has recently devastated the city of Houston, and many other portions of Texas, little Ma riana was much beloved by all who knew her. She was a frequent contributor to our Chimney Corner, and we mourn her as one of our lost jew els. Her mother, in a letter to the editor of the Nashville Christian Advocate , says of her : “When my dear child was first attacked, I said to her : ‘ Mariana, you may be so ill that you can not think ; now while you can, fix your mind upon Christ and God.’ She answered calmly and se riously : ‘ I do, Mamma ; lam unwilling to die only on your account and Papa’s.’ Ev ery day as long as she could think, she asked to have the Lord’s Prayer said, and once when I had finished saying it, she said: ‘Now say another.’ Once she asked me to read a Psalm to her, but fell asleep before I could get it. For hours before she died, she lay as one in a blissful sleep, and twice a bright smile passed over her face.” Little reader, pray to God that your last end may be like her’s —as serene and hopeful—as full of comfort to those who love you. Here is a pretty little story, written by her, some time ago. In our next we shall publish a beautiful poem from her pen, written but a few days before she was sericken with the terrible disease which destroyed her young life : THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. WRITTEN liY MARIANA CROSS, AT THIRTEEN. Little Daisy was an orphan now. Her father had, when she could just crawl over the floor, been taken from her, and the night before she had taken the last kiss from the lips of her beloved mother—that mother who had watched over her and cherished her for ten long years. Left alone in the wide world, what resource had she but the “Great Father,” who has said: “ When thy father and thy mother forsake thee, then the Lord will take thee up.” On her knees she sought his face, and breathed her simple face, that “ God would please keep her from all harm on earth, and at last take her to heaven to meet father and mamma.” Ihen the Lord looked down in compassion on the little one, and sent an angel to watch over her and guide her poor little feet into the paths of Lghteonsness. Whenever she was undecided be tween right and wrong, it whispered to her which to choose. Daisy was a good child, and she al '"ays listened to and obeyed its counsels. Thus she was led in the right way, and when she was d}ing, with a face that beamed with joy, she ex claimed : “Mother, have you come for me?” And in that mother’s arms she was borne to those °t her Saviour. kittle children, you all have this guide. Listen to its voice, that you may die as happy as Daisy, t is called Conscience . Names may be added to clubs at any time d u kng the year, at the regular club rates. BURKE’S WEEKLY. Table Mountain. Table Mountain, or “Table Rock,” *L Wft as it is frequently called, of which we pre sent a very beautiful engraving, is in NgwJ Pickens District, S. C., about twenty m^es north of the pretty little village of Greenville. It rises 4,300 feet above the level of the sea, with a long extent, on one side, of perpendicular cliffs, 1,000 feet in height, and is one of the most remarkable of the natural won ders of this portion of the State, so full of natural beauty and sublimity. A tourist thus speaks of this interesting locality: “ Approaching the broad perpendicular side of the mountain, we came upon it suddenly ; a right angled descent in our path revealed one of the most charming views I ever enjoyed. In the fore ground lay, in pastoral beauty, the sweet valley of the cove, diversified with green sward and cultiva- ted land, and embelished with a most picturesque log cabin. In the middle ground, rose from the bosom of the vale, a line of mountains robed in richest verdure, upon which, as a crowning point, the mighty Rock displayed its towering front. Re sides these magic features, were others of winning beauty. Turning the eye, the Bald Mountain, Caesar’s Head, and other chains, were visible. The ear, too, detected, though unseen, the infantile murmuring of the Saluda river, as it swept through the valley from its source, a lew miles north of the great Rock, and between it and the adjoining Alleghanies. “The Rock derives its name from its re semblance in form to a table. It is a solid mass, oblong in form, the northern front being perpen dicular, and one-half a mile in extent. The east ern is considerably inclined, while the southern admits of easy ascent. On the north the eleva tion of the Rock is about 1,000 feet, gradually declining towards the western verge. “The top of the Rock, which is comparatively level, is of great extent. In many places the sur face is stony, in others alluvial and covered vith noble trees. Near the centre, the remains of a hut exist; a building erected as a kitchen to a hotel, which it was once contemplated to build on the Rock.” The view from the summit is wide-spread and most enchanting, including a fine sight ol Caesai s Head, the highest mountain in the vicinity, while across the valley the Falls ol Slicking are dimly visible, its long line of sparkling spray adding much to the beauty of the scene. When you send your own name, or an} other, be careful to give us the name ol the post office and State also. It is best to add the full address at the bottom of your letter. _ Another Little Contributor. V | dE story in this number, entitled “Mary Grey’s Disappointment,” comes to us f roin a very little girl in Macon, who, in a n °ie accompanying it, says : “ I saw in Burke's Weekly a piece written by a little girl, Eloise V. Allen ; aLo your request that other children would write. I have tried, and hope you will like it.” Os course we do, and print it with pleasure. It is really very creditable to our little friend, and we hope to hear from her again. Let others “try” also ; we want a corps of “ little contributors” for our Weekly. It is the children’s paper, and we want them to write for it. Remember that clubs need not all go to the same post office, or to the same State. Get them where you can. “In Mischief.” The picture on our first page explains itself. The little girl who is seen peep ing in at the door, looks as if she were full of mischief, and was doing something which she was forbidden to do. Take care, little girl, that your love of mischief does not lead you into something that will render yourself and others unhappy. -.«*.« Our Florida Correspondent. The beautiful letter from Mrs. F. M. P. C., which we print this week, will be read with interest, and we feel that we speak for all our little .readers when we assure the writer that her contributions will always be welcome. God Counts. A brother and sister were playing in the dining room, when their mother set a basket of cakes on the tea table and went out. “ How nice they look! ” said the boy, reaching to take one. Ilis sister earnestly objected, and even drew back his hand, re peating that it was against their mother’s direction. “ She did not count them,” said he. “ But perhaps God did,” answered the sister. So he withdrew from the temptation, and, sitting down, seemed to meditate. “ You arc right,” replied he, looking at her with a cheerful yet serious air, “ God does count; for the Bible says the hairs of our head are all numbered. - —— Some employments may be better than others; but there is no employment so bad as having none at all. The mind will contract a rust, and an unfitness for everything, and a man must either fill up his time with good, or at least innocent business, or it will run to the worst sort of waste —to sin and vice. Dignity does not consist in pos sessing honors, but in deserving them. 157