e found that all her
endeavours were in vain, she consented, and then burst into a flood of
tears. The little youth was alarmed, and almost afraid to ask any
questions. At last, "I fear," said he, "my dear papa is either ill or
dead. Tell me, my dear aunt, for I must and will know: I will sleep no
more till I see my dear father, who so tenderly loves me."

Mrs. Clarkson was unable to speak; but when Adolphus saw his aunt take
out his mourning clothes, he was too well satisfied of what had
happened. "My dear papa is dead!" cried he; "O my papa! my mamma! both
dead! What will become of poor Adolphus!" and then fainted, when Mrs.
Clarkson found it difficult to bring him to his senses.

As soon as he was a little come to himself, "Do not afflict yourself, my
dear child," said his aunt, "your parents are both living in heaven, and
will intercede with God to take care of you while on earth. While he
yesterday was dying, his last prayer was for you, and his prayer will
be heard."

"What! did my dear father die yesterday, while I was thinking of the
pleasure I should this day have on seeing him? Oh! let me go and see
him, since I cannot now disturb him, or make him unhappy on my account.
Pray, my dear aunt, let me go."

Mrs. Clarkson could not resist his importunities, and, engaged to go
along with him, provided he would promise to keep himself composed. "You
see my sorrow," said she, "and how much I am grieved for the loss of a
brother, who was good, charitable, and humane, and from whose bounty I
received the greater part of the means of my livelihood. Though I am now
left poor and helpless, yet I trust in Providence, and you shall see me
cry no more. Let me entreat you, my dear child, to do the same." Poor
Adolphus promised he would do as she would wish him; when Mrs. Clarkson
took him by the hand, and led him to the melancholy scene.

As soon as they were come to the house, Adolphus slipped from his aunt,
and rushed into the room where his father lay in his coffin, surrounded
by his weeping neighbours: he threw himself on the breathless body of
his dear papa. After lying some little time in that state, without being
able to speak, he at last raised his little head, and cried out, "See
how your poor Adolphus cries for having lost you. When mamma died, you
comforted me, though you wept yourself; but now, to whom am I to look
for comfort? O my dear papa, my good papa!"

By this time his aunt got into the room, and, with