d his last illness was very
short; and from the first he was confident that he should never recover.
When he first addressed his family upon the subject they were
overwhelmed with grief. "Dinna greet for me," said he in a calm and
hopeful voice, "I ha'e already leeved ayont the period allotted to the
life o' man. I ha'e striven in my ain imperfect way to do my duty in
this life, an' I am thankfu' that I am able to say that I dinna fear
death; and I feel that when I dee I shall gang hame to the house o' a
mercifu' Father." So peaceful was his departure, that, although
surrounded by his mourning friends, they were unable to tell the exact
moment of his death. Like a wearied child that sleeps, he quietly passed
away. They had no burial ground in the settlement, and he was laid to
rest several miles from his home. His family, with the exception of one
son, had all married and removed to homes of their own some time
previous to his death; and to this son was assigned the happy task of
watching over the declining years of his widowed mother. Mr. Miller, as
a dying injunction, charged this son never to neglect his mother in her
old age, and most sacredly did he observe the dying wishes of his
father. Mrs. Miller was also of advanced age. For three years longer she
lingered, and was then laid to rest beside her departed husband.

Twenty years have passed away since we introduced Robert Ainsley
with his family to the reader. Let us pay a parting visit to Hazel-Brook
farm, and note the changes which these twenty years have effected. The
forest has melted away before the hand of steady industry, and we pass
by cultivated fields on our way to the farm of Mr. Ainslie. The
clearings have extended till very few trees obstruct our view as we gaze
over the farms of the numerous settlers, which are now separated by
fences instead of forest trees. But the loveliest spot of all is
Hazel-Brook farm. The farm-house of Robert Ainslie, enlarged and
remodelled according to his increased means, is painted a pure white,
and very pleasant it looks to the eye, through the branches of the
shade-trees which nearly surround it. The clear waters of Hazel-Brook
are as bright and sparkling as ever. The banks near the dwelling are
still fringed with trees and various kinds of shrubs; but farther up the
stream all obstructions have been cleared away, and the sound of a
saw-mill falls upon the ear. Let us enter the dwelling. Mr. and Mrs.
Ainslie, although n