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Gathering Snow-Drops.
(see illustration on page 281.)
SOW past away is wintry night,
Comes back again the sunshine bright,
The golden flow of ruddy light—
And birds are on the wing;
The breaking buds are growing red,
And purple turns the violet bed,
<3 The yellow primrose shows its head
Keen is the air, the ponds still freeze,
The tangled branches on the trees
Still bare to shudder ’neath the breeze,
Though merry mortals sing :
While foremost in the floral race
The modest snow-drop shows its face,
And purely, sweetly takes its place
As first-born child of spring.
Then bright-eyed maidens, young and fair,
The snowy blossoms cull with care,
To twine them in their jetty hair,
While merry voices ring:
For what think they of care or grief.
Os winter’s chill or autumn’s leaf,
That life is sometimes sad and brief?
With them ’tis ever spring I
Though seasons quickly come and go,
Great joys are theirs, few cares they know;
And heed not —it were better so —
What summer days may bring.
Laugh on, fair girls! and often stay
To pluck sweet blossoms on your way,
And gather snow-drops while you may—
For ’tis not always spring !
■
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
ELLEN HUNTER:
A STORY OF TII E WA R .
DEDICATED TO THE CHILDREN OF THE SOUTH BY ONE
WHO HAS BEEN AN EYE-WITNESS TO THEIR
SORROWS AND THEIR SUFFERINGS.
BY BYRD LYTTLE, OF VIRGINIA.
CHAPTER Till.
A TALK AND A LETTER.
BS soon as Ellen entered
the hospital she went to
see Col. Williams. He
seemed very glad to see
her, and after talking a
ve a favor to ask of you,
e; do you think you can
“If I can, sir, I certainly will,' 1
said Ellen.
“I wish,” said Colonel Williams, “you
would bring your Bible and Prayer Book
the next time you come from home, and
read me the Lessons and Psalms for the
day.”
“I should like it very much,” said El
len. “ I have not as much time to read
at home as I had before I came to the
hospital. But I think I can find a Bible
and Prayer Book here, and we can begin
to-day if you wish it.”
“Just as soon as you please,” said Col.
Williams.
Ellen went to the matron’s room, and
asked her to lend Col. Williams a Bible —
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
she did not have a Prayer Book, as she
belonged to the Methodist church. Ellen
did not know how to manage about get
ting one, but ai last she thought she
would walk down between the rows of
beds, and if she saw a Prayer Book she
would ask for it. She had passed by al
most all the beds without finding one,
when she saw a soldier propped up read
ing. He put down his book when she
came up to his bed, and spoke to her as
she came near him. She had been to the
hospital so often that every one in the
ward knew her now. The sick man ask
ed her if she was looking for anything.
“ Yes, sir,” said Eden, “ I am looking
for a Prayer Book to read to Col. Wil
liams.”
“ Here is mine, miss,” said the soldier.
“I would be very glad if you would take
it; I 01113 7 hope it may be as great a com
fort to him as it has been to me.”
Ellen thanked him and took the book,
saying she would bring it back when she
had finished with it. 1 - 1 '
Col. Williams was delighted with Ellen’s
success, and she was soon reading the
service for the day to him. It was the
twenty-third day of the month, and as
Ellen came to that verse in the Psalter,
“ He will not be afraid of any evil tidings,
for his heart standeth fast and believeth
in the Lord,” her voice trembled so she
could scarcely finish the Psalm.- Colonel
Williams noticed that something was the
matter, and after they had finished read
ing, and Ellen had carried back the Pray
er Book, he said:
“Is my little friend afraid of evil ti
dings ?”
Ellen’s eyes filled with tears as she
said, “I could not help thinking about
the boys. We have not heard anything
about Harry yet, and now I begin to feel
it can be only evil tidings when we do
hear.”
“ ‘For his heart standeth fast and be
lieveth in the Lord,’ ” repeated Col. Mil
hams slowly. “Itis a great blessing, my
child, when we can do that: believe that
all our Lord sends us is for our good, be
the tidings evil or otherwise. You think
it strange that anything which grieves us
can be for our good. It is a hard lesson
to learn; but it is wrong for us to let the
fear of evil tidings interfere with our do
ing our duty. If you are gloomy and de
sponding, don’t you think it will be bad
for others?”
“ I think it might make mother worse,”
said Ellen, “but I am not gloomy at
home. I could not help crying just now
when I was reading.”
“I know it, m3 7 child. lam not blam
ing you. I only wish you to feel and
know that your Heavenly Father has
promised to abide always with those who
love and serve Him, and if He be for us,
what matters it who is against us.”
After a few moments silence, Col. Wil
liams said:
“ I received a letter this morning from
my little daughter. I have kept it until
you came, so that you might read it to
me. It is just under my pillow.”
Ellen took the letter and read the fol
lowing :
“My own dear , darling Papa :
“I am so sony you are hurt. Won’t
you let me come to you ? I will promise
to be very still, and not say a word. I
could rub your head, and give you some
water to drink, and keep the flies off of
you, and I will not give any trouble.
Aunt Mary says I have been a good child
since you went away, so please let me
come. My puppy is a great big dog now.
He looked mighty sony when I told him
you were hurt. I will bring him to see
you, if you want to see him. My kitten
caught a mouse yesterday, and all of my
chickens are dead. This is all the news.
Give my love to the little girl who comes
to see you, and tell her to take care of
you till I come, which I hope will be very
soon. Please, dear papa, say yes.
“ Your affectionate daughter,
“Lizzie Williams.”
Ellen could not help laughing over this
letter, and she said :
“ Are you going; to let her come, Col.
Williams ?”
“I don’t think I can, Miss Elbe. There
is no place here for her to stay, and I do
not like her to see so much suffering. If
she was as old as you are, I would not
mind it, for then she could be of some as
sistance.”
“I wish she could come,” said Ellen.
“ May I write to her for you ?”
“ I was just about to ask you to do it,”
said Col. Williams. “ Can you bring your
pencil and paper with you to-morrow ?”
“ Yes, sir,” said Ellen, “ and I will come
early, so we will have time for the ■wri
ting and reading, too; but I must tell you
good-bye now, for mother will be expect
ing me.”
“ Good-bye,” said Col. Williams ; “ keep
up a brave heart, and try and not antici
pate evil.”
jgggo. Bid you ever see an elephant s
skin?” asked the master of an infant
school in a fast neighborhood.
“I have,” shouted a six-year old at the
foot of the class.
“ Where ?” inquired the master, amused
by his earnestness.
“ On an elephant,” was the reply.
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