THE CARNATION. 9d 



God in Christ Jesus my Lord, I felt that they could 

 do me no harm.' 



The dame 'ound out my love of flowers, and 

 often charged her daughter to pick the best for me. 

 The little garden was as rich in them as tasteful 

 industry could make it ; and, by careful cultivation, 

 the family of pinks and carnations had overspread 

 the borders in splendid profusion. I have no floral 

 association more distinct, than that of these lovely 

 specimens with the cottage of Dame C. 



When, after a period of most agonizing suffer- 

 ing, my dumb boy underwent what the country 

 people call the " change for death," about a week 

 before his actual departure, I went to seek comfort 

 from my dame, and was greeted with the tidings that 

 a change exactly similar had passed on her. I could 

 not then bear to see her ; but, five days after, I 

 went and beheld her laid out, in the perfect sem- 

 blance of death. No perception of any kind 

 seemed to exist, her respiration only, now and then 

 rising to a groan, indicated that life still lingered. 

 'She will never speak nor move again,' said her 

 daughter, ' thus she will breathe her last.' But 

 she was mistaken ; another day and night passed 

 by, and every moment appeared likely to be the 

 final one. At seven o'clock in the morning of the 

 ensuing day, to the amazement of her watchful 

 nurse, the old woman lifted up her hands, and m 

 a loud clear voice e-xclaimed, * When you hear the 





