JULY. 
THE ROSE—THE MOTHER. 
‘ The queen Rose reigns supreme, 
Fairest among the fair.’ 
WONDERFUL corner for echoes, it has been remarked, 
that corner where the doctor lived. Ever busily wind¬ 
ing the golden thread that bound her husband, and her 
father, and herself, and her old directress and com¬ 
panion in a life of quiet bliss, Lucie sat in the still 
house in the tranquilly resounding corner, listening to 
the echoing footsteps of years. 
At first there were times, though she was a perfectly 
happy young wife, when her work would slowly fall from her hands, and 
her eyes would be dimmed. For there was something coming in the 
echoes — something light, afar-off, and scarcely audible yet—that stirred 
her heart too much. Fluttering hopes and doubts—hopes of a love as yet 
unknown to her; doubts of her remaining upon earth to enjoy that new 
delight—divided her breast. Among the echoes, then, there would arise 
the sound of footsteps at her own early grave; and thoughts of her 
husband who would be left so desolate, and who would mourn for her 
so much, swelled to her eyes and broke like waves. 
That time passed, and her little Lucie lay on her bosom. Then among 
the advancing echoes there was the tread of her tiny feet and the sound 
of her prattling words. Let greater echoes resound as they would, the 
young mother at the cradle side could always hear those coming. They 
came, and the shady house was sunny with a child’s laugh, and the 
Divine friend of children, to whom in her trouble she had confided hers, 
seemed to take her child in His arms, as He took the child of old, and 
made it a sacred joy to her. 
******** 
Even when there were sounds of sorrow among the rest, they were not 
harsh nor cruel. Even when golden hair like her own lay in a halo on a 
pillow round the worn face of a little boy, and he said, with a radiant 
smile, ‘ Dear papa and mamma, I am very sorry to leave you both, and 
to leave my pretty sister, but I am called and I must go ; ’ those were not 
