KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



329 



had gone five, and that Susan had stepped 

 out to Mrs. Simmons 's with some clothes to 

 mangle. 



" You seem to have been enjoying a com- 

 fortable sleep, ma'am," said I; for, with my 

 usual absence of mind, I had quite forgotten 

 the original cause of my entering the cot- 

 tage. 



" Indeed I have, sir," she replied; "but 

 bless me, here have I dropped one, two, 

 three stitches, while I have been dozing. 

 Well-a-day, sleep's a refreshing thing, come 

 when it will. It makes one forget all one's 

 troubles, though new ones do seem to rise 

 up ever a-while in one's dreams. Do you 

 believe in dreams, sir? " 



" Why, partly, madam," said I, willing to 

 fall in with her humor ; " I must say I think 

 there is sometimes more in them than most 

 people will allow." 



"Do you think so, sir?" she replied, 

 rather eagerly ; " I have oftentimes strange 

 dreams myself; one in particular, which re- 

 turns to me again and again." 



" I should like to hear it," said I. 



" Ah ! sir, it would tire the like of you to 

 be listening to an old woman's dreams. 

 There's my nevey, whenever I say any 

 thing about them, he tells me I am growing 

 childish ; and Susan, too, begins to talk 

 to me about the march of intellect, and all 

 manner of things, that I never heard of when 

 I was young." 



" Young people will presume a little upon 

 their education now-a-days, ma'am." 



11 But they are very kind to me too, sir. 

 Five years, next Martinmas, I have lived 

 with them. Once I had children and a hus- 

 band, but now all are gone, and it appears 

 to me like a dream that I was once a wedded 

 wife. Oh ! the long weary years that have 

 passed over my head since those happy 

 days ! It seems almost as if death had 

 forgotten me. Around me I see falling 

 the young and healthy ; fathers and mothers, 

 the young wife and the only child ; whilst 

 I, who have none to care forme, still live on. 

 Sometimes, in my dreams, I seem to die, and 

 pass into another world, so bright, so beau- 

 tiful, and peopled with familiar forms ; when 

 I wake up to the dull cold reality of this 

 life, I feel almost angry at being recalled 

 to sufferings and infirmities which seemed 

 to have left me for ever. Even while you 

 have been sitting here sir, one of these 

 dreams which I mentioned to you has been 

 busy with my mind, and which, as you wish 

 it, I will relate to you. I must have fallen 

 asleep with my eyes open, for I recollect 

 perfectly that at first I saw everything in 

 the room as distinctly as I now see it. I 

 heard the clock tick, and watched the 

 flickering shade of the rose tree upon the 

 casement, but I had not the power to move 



or speak. I felt exceedingly faint, and gra- 

 dually a kind of mistiness seemed to come 

 between me and the objects in the room ; 

 they appeared to get further off, yet larger. 

 A chilly feeling crept over me ; it came first 

 in my hands and feet, and seemed gradually 

 to invade my whole frame, till my heart 

 itself was frozen and lost the power of beat- 

 ing. The shade deepened, till all was dark, 

 and a feeling of icy coldness seemed to wrap 

 me round on every side ; this, in its turn, 

 faded away into total insensibility. Gradually 

 came returning consciousness, accompanied 

 by a feeling of being poised in the air. I 

 could as yet see nothing, but all around was 

 a rushing, rustling sound, as of angels' wings. 

 * * * The vision returned to me, and the 

 air seemed alive,with beautiful forms, which 

 came thronging round in countless myriads ; 

 thousands of sweet voices were singing the 

 praises of the most high, and other spirits 

 seemed to be journeying the same road with 

 myself. * * * After a long flight, gra- 

 dually rocks, mountains, trees, and rivers 

 became visible, and I found myself in a 

 garden more beautiful than it can enter into the 

 imagination of man to conceive ; cool foun- 

 tains, mossy dells, and the sweetest flowers 

 were on every side ; the spirits of those 

 I loved on earth came thronging round to 

 welcome me. Though they had neither 

 shape nor form, I knew them for friends- ; 

 and my heart yearned towards them. They 

 appeared but as the small pale light of a 

 glow-worm, shining from its leafy bower. 

 Here again I seemed to rejoin the husband 

 of my youth, long lost, and ever mourned ; 

 and a still small voice gently whispered, in 

 accents once familiar — ' Mother ! ' " 



Here the poor old woman paused, to wipe 

 from her eyes the tears which were slowly 

 stealing down her furrowed cheeks. 



Poor weary soul ! WTio knows, thought 

 I, whether this dream of thine be not a fore- 

 shadowing of the future ? Why should we 

 strive to make Death a King of Terrors ? 

 Rather let us think of him as a herald of 

 bliss. Weep not for the dead ! 



H. Harkness. 



CHILDHOOD. 



Hark ! the whoop of merry voices — 



Hark ! to childhood's roundelay ; 

 How the human heart rejoices 



In its wild and boundless play ! 

 In its never-ceasing gladness, 



In its innocence and mirth — ■ 

 "Who could yield to grief or sadness 



While such music glacis the earth ? 

 Happy, merry, sunny childhood, 



Wheresoe'er thy bright smiles he — 

 In the household or the wild wood 



Thou'rt a thing of joy to me ! 



