the thought of being like an absent guest from the assembly of his
own dead; for there is a principle of undying hope in the heart, that
carries, with bold and beautiful imagery, the realities of life into the
silent recesses of death itself.

Having formed the resolution of visiting his old friends at Tubber Derg,
he communicated it to Kathleen and his family; Ids wife received the
intelligence with undisguised delight.

"Owen," she replied, "indeed I'm glad you mintioned it. Many a time the
thoughts of our place, an' the people about it, comes over me. I know,
Owen, it'll go to your heart to see it; but still, avourneen, you'd
like, too, to see the ould faces an' the warm hearts of them that pitied
us, an' helped us, as well as they could, whin we war broken down."

"I would, Kathleen; but I'm not going merely to see thim an' the place.
I intind, if I can, to take a bit of land somewhere near Tubber Derg.
I'm unasy in my mind, for 'fraid I'd not sleep in the grave-yard where
all belongin' to me lie."

A chord of the mother's heart was touched; and in a moment the memory of
their beloved child brought the tears to her eyes.

"Owen, avourneen, I have one requist to ax of you, an' I'm sure you
won't refuse it to me; if I die afore you, let me be buried wid Alley.
Who has a right to sleep so near her as her own mother?"

"The child's in my heart still," said Owen, suppressing his emotion;
"thinkin' of the unfortunate mornin' I wint to Dublin, brings her
back to me. I see her standin', wid her fair pale face--pale--oh, my
God!--wid hunger an' sickness--her little thin clo'es, an' her goolden
hair, tossed about by the dark blast--the tears in her eyes, an' the
smile, that she once had, on her face--houldin' up her mouth, an' sayin'
'Kiss me agin, father;' as if she knew, somehow, that I'd never see
her, nor her me, any more. An' whin I looked back, as I was turnin' the
corner, there she stood, strainin' her eyes after her father, that she
was then takin' the last sight of until the judgment-day."

His voice here became broken, and he sat in silence for a few minutes.

"It's sthrange," he added, with more firmness, "how she's so often in my
mind!"

"But, Owen, dear," replied Kathleen, "sure it was the will of God that
she should lave us. She's now a bright angel in heaven, an' I dunna if
it's right--indeed, I doubt it's sinful for us to think so much about
her. Who knows but her innocent spirit is makin' inthercessi