s of her own
sweet impulse. She kept peeping from her screen at Franky all the time;
and he meanwhile was almost too much pleased and happy to eat; the world
was so beautiful, and men, women, and children all so tender and kind;
so softened, in fact, by the beauty of this earth, so unconsciously
touched by the spirit of love, which was the Creator of this lovely
earth. But the day drew to an end; the heat declined; the birds once
more began their warblings; the fresh scents again hung about plant,
and tree, and grass, betokening the fragrant presence of the reviving
dew, and--the boat time was near. As they trod the meadow-path once
more, they were joined by many a party they had encountered during
the day, all abounding in happiness, all full of the day's adventures.
Long-cherished quarrels had been forgotten, new friendships formed.
Fresh tastes and higher delights had been imparted that day. We have all
of us our look, now and then, called up by some noble or loving thought
(our highest on earth), which will be our likeness in heaven. I can
catch the glance on many a face, the glancing light of the cloud of
glory from heaven, "which is our home." That look was present on many a
hard-worked, wrinkled countenance, as they turned backwards to catch a
longing, lingering look at Dunham woods, fast deepening into blackness
of night, but whose memory was to haunt, in greenness and freshness,
many a loom, and workshop, and factory, with images of peace and beauty.

That night, as Libbie lay awake, revolving the incidents of the day, she
caught Franky's voice through the open windows. Instead of the frequent
moan of pain, he was trying to recall the burden of one of the
children's hymns,--

Here we suffer grief and pain,
Here we meet to part again;
In Heaven we part no more.
Oh! that will be joyful, &c.

She recalled his question, the whispered question, to her, in the
happiest part of the day. He asked Libbie, "Is Dunham like heaven? the
people here are as kind as angels, and I don't want heaven to be more
beautiful than this place. If you and mother would but die with me, I
should like to die, and live always there!" She had checked him, for
she feared he was impious; but now the young child's craving for some
definite idea of the land to which his inner wisdom told him he was
hastening, had nothing in it wrong, or even sorrowful, for--

In Heaven we part no more.

ERA III.

MICHAELMAS.

The