616 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Dec. 



to remember lie was delayinor, a little to my 

 surprise he turned over and rose up with 

 the readiness of a child, almost before I was 

 ready to support him. I raised the cup to 

 his lips, but wondered his head dropped for- 

 ward as it did. I asked him if he would 

 not take it, and he roused up enough to 

 swallow a jiart of it. AVhen asked to take 

 the rest. I discovered he had fainted. I laid 

 him back on his pillow and called loudly 

 lor mother. Before she came I saw he was 

 gasping with the strangulation we had 

 feared. I shall never forget the imploring 

 look for help, nor shall I ever forget to be 

 careful in giving merlicine to a very weak 

 patient. She turned him on his side, rubbed 

 his throat, and the liquid passed down, but 

 my heart was beating so it shook my very 

 body to think 1 had, by my want of skill, 

 come so near hastening his approaching 

 end. He assured me, with a bright, pleas- 

 ant look, that no harm was done, and 

 dropped off again into his accustomed 

 slumber. There seemed to be a providence 

 in this experience, after all. Two days 

 afterward, when I hastened to his bedside, I 

 found he was lying on his back and gasping 

 for breath, something as he did that night. 

 He was dying, but the doctor and fviends 

 thought it" Avas his easiest position. I could 

 not think so. and earnestly entreated that he 

 might be turned on his side. I have inher- 

 ited from him a tendency to throat troubles, 

 and it seemed to me I knew better than any 

 one how he could breathe his last easiest.. 

 The friends, out of kindness, had been giv- 

 ing him a stimulus when he was unable to 

 swallow it, and it was producing the same 

 symptoms that so impressed themselves on 

 my mind the night before. Fortunately he 

 had strength to vomit it up, and then he felt 

 much revived. I am thus particular in 

 these little details, because I feel very 

 anxious we should all learn to care for the 

 sick and dying in such a way as to alleviate 

 pain and suffering all we possibly can. Al- 

 though he revived enough to speak, his 

 breath soon became again obstructed, and 

 at my earnest solicitation we turned him on 

 his side, even at the risk of hastening his 

 death by so doin^. To my great relief, the 

 obstruction to his breathing then settled 

 down to one side, so that he drew each 

 breath with such ease that he sank away 

 peacefully, and apparently almost without 

 pain. I will mention here, that for many 

 years I have been in the habit of calling to 

 see my parents, on my way* home from our 

 Ablieyville mission Sunday-school, every 

 Sabbath afternoon. Well, after the labors 

 of the school I am invariably in a happy 

 mood, and had often sung new hymns we had 

 learned, to my mother. I do not know that 

 father often said much about them, but 

 mother always liked to have me sing. One 

 day, during father's early sickness, he ex- 

 pressed a wish to see me. and have me sing 

 some of those hymns. There may be others 

 in the world besides my father and mother 

 who like to hear me sing. I cannot remem- 

 ber now ever having heard of any, but I as- 

 sure you it gave me a thrill of pleasure to 

 know I could in this way make his sick bed 

 pleasanter. Well, on this night when his 



breath was growing shorter and shorter, 

 and we could not catch any further sign of 

 recognition, I felt imprepsed to sing a little 

 hymn that I found once or twice before 

 seemed to give comfort to those near to 

 death. It is this :— 



I know not tlie hour when m.y Lord will come, 



To take me away to his own dear home; 



But I know that his presence will lighten the prioom, 



And that will be glor j- for me, 

 CiiO.— And that will he priory for me. 



Oh, that will be Klcry to'" me. 

 But I know tliat his presence will lighten tl-.e gloom, 



And that will be glory for me. 

 I know not the song that the angels sing, 

 I know not the sound of the harps' glad ring; 

 Hut I know there'll be mention of .lesus our king, 



And that will be musie for me. 

 t'HO— And that will be mu.sie for me, 



Oh, that will be musie for me. 

 But I know there'll be mention of Jesus our king, 



A)id that will be musie for me. 

 I know not tlic fnrni of my mansion fair, 

 1 know not the name that 1 then shall bear; 

 But 1 know tliat my S;iyior will welcome me there, 



And that will he hu;vyen for me. 

 Clio.— And that will he heaven for me, 



t)h, that will be heaven for me; 

 I'.ut I know that my Savior will welcome mc there. 



And that will be heaven forme. 



I may be mistaken, but it seemed to me, 

 by the movement of the mouth and eyelids, 

 that he heard. 



A few years ago death was but a fearful 

 dread to me. I avoided funerals and sick- 

 ness all I could consistently. How changed 

 is it all now ! I held my father's hand while 

 he approached the border line of the other 

 world, with no dreary forebodings ; for I 

 knew that a Father in heaven was watching 

 lovingly over all that little circle gathered 

 around that bed of death. Had we not the 

 assurance that we Avere of more value to 

 him than many sparrows V That great love 

 above bound us all together, and there Avas 

 no need that we should " be troubled, or 

 afraid."' In one sense. I was happy, because 

 I knew he liked to have me near liim, and I 

 felt that 1 had been able to make his last 

 moments a little easier. His breath grew 

 shorter and linally stopped. After an mter- 

 v-il, came another. Still longer, and another 

 still. After a third interval, came a slight 

 movement and a knitting-up of the muscles 

 aiound the nostrils — the death pang, as the 

 soul was torn from the body, as it "seemed, 

 and then all suffering and sorrow were over. 

 In an instant the movement expressive of 

 pain Avas gone, and his face had the expres- 

 sion of a child sleeping in peace. 



Father Avas gone! The heart that had 

 beaten only in kindness for rne since 1 first 

 opened my eyes on this broad earth was ' 

 stilled for ever. _No skill of man, not even 

 all the power of the universe together, could 

 bring back one more beat of ihe pulse we 

 had felt so often. Father is dead 1 Alone 

 in the Avorld should Ave be indeed, Avere it 

 not for God's great love at such a time. 

 How soon memory began going back ! 

 Almost the first I can remember of him Avas 

 the toy wagons and sleds he used to make 

 brother and I ; then I remember how he 

 used to cany me. and take pains to shoAV 

 and explain every thing to me in my child- 

 hood days. Step by step memory carries me 

 back to "the time Avhen, as I grew older, he 

 took so much pains to afford me an oppor- 

 tunity of getting au education ; I never saw 

 it before ; but there, side by side Avith his 

 dead body, memory began to bring it out 



