. It was too much--she
bowed her spirit in meek endurance, but she could not say--"Thy will
be done."

Little Rachel died. The father dug her grave near by their humble
dwelling; he made the rough coffin in which they enclosed her; and
then bore out the body and laid it in the ground, while the weeping
mother stood by his side. Sole mourners were they at these sad
funereal rites. No holy words from the book of consolation were
read, no solemn hymn was sung--all was silence, heart-oppressing
silence.

On the succeeding day Parker had to go for the physician again. His
next child was taken sick. His wife was far from being well, and he
felt strangely. After the doctor had prescribed for the family, and
was about leaving, he took Mr. Parker to an eminence overlooking the
river that bounded his farm on the western side, and spoke to him
thus:

"My friend, do you see that river, with more than half of its muddy
bed exposed to the hot sun? Your farm lies upon its eastern side,
and the poisonous miasma that arises from its surface and banks is
steadily blown upon you by the south-westerly and westerly winds of
summer. Is it any wonder that your family have become sick? I
wouldn't live here if you would give me fifty farms like this!
Already a whole family have died on this spot, and your's will be
the next if you do not leave immediately. You have lost one child;
let that suffice. Flee from this place as hurriedly as Lot fled from
Sodom. Medical aid I solemnly believe to be useless while you remain
here. The village of A-- is healthy. Remove your wife and children
there immediately. Do not wait for a single day. It is the only hope
for their lives."

A warning like this was not a thing to be let go by unheeded. Parker
promptly announced to his wife what the doctor had communicated, and
ended by saying--

"We must go at once."

"And leave Rachel?" she returned, sadly.

"Our staying here cannot do her any good," replied the husband, in a
choking voice.

"I know--I know," quickly answered the mother. "I am weak and
foolish. Yes--yes--we had better go."

A few hours sufficed for all needful preparations, and then, with
his wife and children in his wagon, Parker mounted one of the horses
and drove off for the village of A--, distant a little over ten
miles. As they moved away the mother's eyes were turned back upon
the little mound of earth beneath which slept the body of her
precious child, and remained fixed upon t