out, 's ef he was in the town-'us; but sez he, in a real low, trembly kind
o' voice,

"'Ye needn't be afraid, I ain't agoin' to whoop;--taint that way I
feel,--but I had to do suthin' or I should bust': 'n' there was reel tears
in his eyes--George Thayer's eyes, Mis' Kinney! Then he jumped down, 'n'
sez he, 'I'll tell ye what that sermon's like: it's jest like one great
rainbow all round ye, and before 'n' behind 'n' everywheres, 'n' the end
on't reaches way to the Throne; it jest dazzles my eyes, that's what it
does.'"

This sermon had concluded with the following hymn, which Draxy had written
when Reuby was only a few weeks old:--

The Love of God.

Like a cradle rocking, rocking,
Silent, peaceful, to and fro,
Like a mother's sweet looks dropping
On the little face below,
Hangs the green earth, swinging, turning,
Jarless, noiseless, safe and slow;
Falls the light of God's face bending
Down and watching us below.

And as feeble babes that suffer,
Toss and cry, and will not rest,
Are the ones the tender mother
Holds the closest, loves the best,
So when we are weak and wretched,
By our sins weighed down, distressed,
Then it is that God's great patience
Holds us closest, loves us best.

O great Heart of God! whose loving
Cannot hindered be nor crossed;
Will not weary, will not even
In our death itself be lost--
Love divine! of such great loving,
Only mothers know the cost--
Cost of love, which all love passing,
Gave a Son to save the lost.

There is little more to tell of Draxy's ministry. It closed as suddenly as
it had begun.

It was just five years after the Elder's death that she found herself, one
Sunday morning, feeling singularly feeble and lifeless. She was bewildered
at the sensation, for in her apparent health she had never felt it before.
She could hardly walk, could hardly stand. She felt also a strange apathy
which prevented her being alarmed.

"It is nothing," she said; "I dare say most women are so all the time; I
don't feel in the least ill;" and she insisted upon it that no one should
remain at home with her. It was a communion Sunday and Elder Williams was
to preach.

"How fortunate it is that Mr. Williams was here!" she thought languidly,
as she seated herself in the eastern bay-window, to watch Reuby down the
hill. He walked between his grandparents, holding each by the hand,
talking merrily and looking up