mpetuous
prayer uttered by Mr. Lathrop at Mrs. Blake's funeral, and I too tried to
bring comfort to another by prayer. There was such help in the thought
that God never forgets us. I so soon forgot amid the pleasures of
home-coming the sorrows of another; but He watches ever. The splendors of
His throne and crowns, and the adoration of the highest intelligences
never so absorbing Him as to cause forgetfulness of the humblest parish
pensioner, looking Heavenward for consolation. "Oh, to be more God-like,
more unforgetting!" I murmured, still lingering in the attitude of
prayer. I do not think in all my life, I had got so near to the Divine
Heart.

The next morning an agreeable duty awaited me. First, I had the materials
for Mr. Bowen's new suit, and along with these a good many lesser gifts
for one and another. In the daily papers, I studied very industriously
the notices of cheap sales of dry goods while in the city; and for such a
novice in the art of shopping, I made some really good bargains. When I
came to get my presents all unpacked I found that Thomas' services would
be required if I took all at once.

I found him at last in the kitchen, superintending the preparation of
some medicine for one of his horses. Making known my errand, he consented
to drive me to the Mill Road; but first assured me that it would
disarrange all his plans for the day. Thomas was an old bachelor, with
ways very set and precise; and his hours were divided off as regularly as
a college professor's.

On our way out he informed me that the widow Larkum was very ill, with
the doctor in attendance.

I was surprised that his words should give me such a sinking at the
heart.

"What will become of the blind father and orphaned children if she dies?"

"They will go to the poor farm. I pity them; for that Bill Day, that has
charge, is a tough subject."

"She may not die. Doctors are very often mistaken. They do not know much
more about the secrets of life and death than the rest of us."

"I allow that's true; for a couple of them give me up for death, a good
many years ago; and a pretty fright they give me for nothing."

"Were you afraid to die?"

"You may be sure I was. Its very unsartin work, is dying."

"Mrs. Flaxman has lent me the lives of some very good people to read.
They were not afraid to die, but looked forward to it, some of them, with
delight."

"They was the pious sort, that don't make much reckonin' in this life, I
al