s
For the langed-for hame-bringin',
An' my Faether's welcome smiles
An' I'll ne'er be fu' content,
Until my e'en do see
The gowden gates o' heaven
In my ain countree.

[Illustration: "MY AIN COUNTREE"]

The earth is decked wi' flow'rs,
Mony tinted, fresh an' gay,
An' the birdies warble blythely,
For my Faether made them sae;
But these sights an' these soun's
Will as naething be to me,
When I hear the angels singin'
In my ain countree.

Like a bairn to its mither,
A wee birdie to its nest,
I fain would be gangin' noo
Unto my Faether's breast;
For He gathers in His arms
Helpless, worthless lambs like me,
An' carries them Himsel'
To his ain countree."

There were tears in many eyes, but not in Carol's. The loving heart had
quietly ceased to beat, and the "wee birdie" in the great house had
flown to its "home nest." Carol had fallen asleep! But as to the song, I
think perhaps, I cannot say, she heard it after all!

* * * * *

So sad an ending to a happy day! Perhaps--to those who were left; and
yet Carol's mother, even in the freshness of her grief, was glad that
her darling had slipped away on the loveliest day of her life, out of
its glad content, into everlasting peace.

She was glad that she had gone as she had come, on the wings of song,
when all the world was brimming over with joy; glad of every grateful
smile, of every joyous burst of laughter, of every loving thought and
word and deed the dear last day had brought.

Sadness reigned, it is true, in the little house behind the garden; and
one day poor Sarah Maud, with a courage born of despair, threw on her
hood and shawl, walked straight to a certain house a mile away, up the
marble steps into good Dr. Bartol's office, falling at his feet as she
cried, "Oh, sir, it was me an' our children that went to Miss Carol's
last dinner-party, an' if we made her worse we can't never be happy
again!" Then the kind old gentleman took her rough hand in his and told
her to dry her tears, for neither she nor any of her flock had hastened
Carol's flight; indeed, he said that had it not been for the strong
hopes and wishes that filled her tired heart, she could not have stayed
long enough to keep that last merry Christmas with her dear ones.

And so the old years, fraught with memories, die, one after another, and
the new ye