THE END OF DREAMS. 2gs
Presently they walk down the hill to gether. They cross a little valley, with slow, faltering steps. The lady guides him carefully, until they reach a little grave yard.
"This must be it, Maggie, but the fence is new. There it is Maggie, under the willow, my poor mother s grave!"
The lady weeps.
"Thank you, Madge : you did not know her, but you weep for me : God bless you ! "
The old man is in the midst of his house hold. It is some festive day. He holds feebly his place, at the head of the board. He utters in feeble tones a Thanksgiving.
His married Nelly is there, with two blooming children. Frank is there, with his bride. Madge dearest of all, is seated beside the old man, watchful of his com fort, and assisting him, as, with a shadowy dignity, he essays to do the honors of the board. The children prattle merrily : the elder ones talk of the days gone by ; and the old man enters feebly yet with float ing glimpses of glee, into the cheer, and the rejoicings.
Poor old man, he is near his tomb!
yet his calm eye, looking upward, seem* to snow no fear.
