g curls loosened and floating in
the pure breeze, she seemed some new-born spirit wondering at the
display of the Creator's mighty power. Her face was flushed with a
hallowed emotion, and as the sun stood forth above the horizon in its
full splendor, she sank upon her knees, and expressed her gushing
feelings in the simple yet sublime words first uttered by Divine lips,
amid the consecrated scenes of the Holy Land.

Mrs. Dunmore instinctively knelt while the child poured forth her humble
adoration, and she prayed most earnestly, that the deep feeling of
reverence she had just witnessed in her adopted one, might never be
displaced or blunted by contact with an impious and careless world.

Jennie had been so wholly absorbed in her joy at the beauteous vision
before her, that she had scarcely noticed the presence of her mother,
until Mrs. Dunmore approached her and said, "My darling is up betimes on
this hallowed morning, and I am glad to see that she is not unmindful of
Him who giveth us all our blessings." Then the little girl looked up
with a happy smile, and giving her accustomed kiss, hastened to prepare
for family devotions, and for the services of the village church. It was
a pleasant little church, and in former years, many a good old saint had
gone from its portals to the Church triumphant in Heaven; but now few
came to her solemn feasts, and there was a languishing, sleepy aspect
about it that often sickened the hearts of the little band of zealous
ones who were striving to keep it alive. Many a time was its faithful
minister almost ready to faint in his apparently useless labors; but on
this day one little soul gazed earnestly on him, as if thirsting for the
spiritual nourishment he was imparting, and his heart was revived and
strengthened. In the afternoon was the funeral of poor Bessie Lisle, and
as the small group of mourners moved away from the place of burial, Mr.
Colbert, Mrs. Dunmore, and Jennie, lingered in the peaceful cemetery to
gather lessons of wisdom for their own summons to another world. This
cemetery was on a high hill overlooking the village. Here and there
drooped a willow over some loved tomb, or a rose-bush bent to scatter
its burden of perfume and petals. On one new-made grave--the quiet
resting-place of a mother and her daughter, snatched from their friends
by some sudden and terrible casuality--were strewn fresh and beauteous
flowers, the fragrant offering of a gentle girl, who daily soug