ust not go out again."

"Oh, mother dear," said his sister, kissing him, and bursting into
tears, "Tom's dying!"

"What's this?" exclaimed his mother--"death's in my boy's face!"

He raised his head gently, and, looking at her, replied, with a faint
smile--

"No, mother, I will not go out any more; I will be good at last--it's
time for me."

At this moment old Dalton and the rest of the family entered the house,
but were not surprised at finding Mary and her mother in tears; for they
supposed, naturally enough, that the tears were tears of joy for the
old man's acquittal. Mrs. Dalton raised her hand to enjoin silence; and
then, pointing to her son, said--

"We must keep quiet for a little."

They all looked upon the young man, and saw, that death, immediate
death, was stamped upon his features, gleamed wildly out of his eyes,
and spoke in his feeble and hollow voice.

"Father," said he, "let me kiss you, or come and kiss me. Thank God for
what has happened this day. Father," he added, looking up into the
old man's face, with an expression of unutterable sorrow and
affection--"father, I know I was wild; but I will be wild no more. I was
wicked, too; but I will be wicked no more. There, is an end now to all
my follies and all my crimes; an' I hope--I hope that God will have
mercy upon me, an' forgive me."

The tears rained fast upon his pale face from the old man's eyes, as he
exclaimed--

"He will have mercy upon you, my darlin' son; look to Him. I know,
darlin', that whatever crimes or follies you committed, you are sorry
for them, an' God will forgive you."

"I am," he replied; "kiss me all of you; my sight is gettin' wake, an'
my tongue isn't isn't so strong as it was."

One after one they all kissed him, and as each knew that this tender and
sorrowful, embrace must be the last that should ever pass between them,
it is impossible adequately to describe the scene which then took place.

"I have a request to make," he added, feebly; "an' it is, that I may
sleep with Peggy and our baby. Maybe I'm not worthy of that; but still
I'd like it, an' my heart's upon it; an' I think she would like it,
too."

"It can be done, an' we'll do it," replied his mother; "we'll do it my
darlin' boy--my son, my son, we'll do it."

"Don't you all forgive me--forgive me--everything?"

They could only, for some time, reply by their tears; but at length they
did reply, and he seemed satisfied.

"Now," said he, "there was