iend, as others thronged around for
accommodations.

The sun sank behind the "Father of Waters," as before a small gray
cottage on the eastern shore of the mighty river, a young, fair-haired
girl stood watching its departing light. At length a boat came in view
round a winding curve, and the little maiden leaped up, clapped her
hands gleefully, and disappeared within the cottage. Onward came the
graceful boat, lashing the waters into foam with its swift-revolving
wheels. It neared the shore, made a brief halt, and then glided on its
way again. A young man bounded up the embankment, and the fair girl met
him on the lowly sill with open arms. "Dear sister Winnie, how you are
grown!" exclaimed he; "but lead me to mother quickly."

"I will, I will, brother Wayland. She has talked of you all day long,
and feared you would not arrive in time to see her."

"Ah! is she failing so rapidly, then?" said the young man, while a gloom
stole over his features.

"O, not so very fast!" answered the child; "and now you are come, I dare
say she will soon be well again."

He patted her cheek, and hurriedly entered his mother's apartment. She
was lying on an humble pallet, wan and emaciated to so fearful a degree,
that the son could hardly recognize the parent from whom he had parted
eight months before.

"O, mother!" said he in sorrowful, reproachful accents; "why had you not
sent for me sooner?"

"I have wanted for nothing, my boy," answered the invalid, in a husky
voice. "Your letters spoke of success, and hopes for the future; how
could I be so selfish as to call you away from prospects so fair, to
tend on a sick-bed?"

The son was silent, and after a few moments' pause, she resumed: "Winnie
did all that could be done for me. But for a few weeks I've failed
faster than usual, and I could not bear to die without beholding my
darling boy once more. Besides, what was to become of Winnie, left alone
and unprotected?"

"Do not speak so hopelessly, dear mother," said Wayland, tears gathering
in his eyes; "I trust with the advancing spring your health may
improve."

The poor woman shook her head. Winnie came, and, putting her little arms
round her mother's neck, commenced sobbing bitterly.

"Winnie! Winnie! you worry mother doing so," said Wayland, drawing her
away; "come now with me; I want to see your pretty fawn and pet kids."

"O, brother! the white spots are all gone from Fanny's neck and sides,
and the kiddies' horns are