to stand by his bedside and witness his departure. He smiled upon the dear little brother, mother held in her arms, shook him by the hand, gave us all a parting glance; the film of death then gathered upon his eyes, a convulsive shudder ran over his frame, and a deathly paleness rested upon his countenance, filling our young hearts with wonder and dismay. As we felt the marble coldness of his stiffened limbs, and saw him borne away to the silent grave, we learned the first lesson from the pale messenger, and felt the awful void that his presence creates in the family circle, and which we have since been called so often to experience. He died in the very room where we first opened our eyes upon the light.

It is a large gloomy looking room. The two windows looking out upon the north, and a door opening out upon the level field, covered with its carpet of green, intersected by neither shrub nor trees. The coating of paint is changed, and the walls neatly papered, which is the only change it has undergone.

Adjacent to this is the east bedroom, one window looking out upon the north, and one upon the little garden at the east end of the house. This room, for many years, was our lodging room, where we sought--

"Tired nature's sweet restorer balmy sleep,"

and lost ourselves in the world of dreams. Many, very many, were the waking dreams that filled the imagination as the map of life lay spread out before fancy's witching gaze, and hope illuminated it with her brilliant rainbow dyes. No waves of passion or disappointment moved its surface. But, oh, how different has been the reality!

Crossing the small entry opposite the kitchen is a large room, formerly occupied by the old people. The same change is visible in this as in the other rooms. Here, day after day, sat our aged aunt, reading the word of God or her favorite hymns, and seeking preparation for death (for she was fourscore and ten years old), and had been a member of the church of Christ from her nineteenth year, spending a long life to his honor and glory. It was the winter of the year, but a mild day, when on returning from school we were summoned to her bedside. The feeble lamp of life was flickering in the socket, and the pulses of the aged woman stood still. Her spirit passed quietly from earth, to enter into the presence of God who gave it. She fell like a shock of corn fully ripe, at the age of ninety-four years. There was no struggle; wearied nature resigned her burden without resistance, and the countenance was pleasant in death. She was borne to the graveyard and laid by the side of her dear brother, and thus they were again united in the place of graves; and again there were vacant places in our family circle, for many had been the attentions we were obliged to bestow upon our aged relative, for she had been unable to walk for several years.

In this apartment two windows opened to the south, and one at the west end of the house, looking out upon the woods; on the north side three doors opened, one into a bedroom with one west window, one into a pantry or dairy room, where stood long rows of pans of milk covered with golden cream, and tempting cheeses arrayed, the shelves. Here there is slight alteration, excepting the shelves and ceiling have changed their snowy whiteness for a coating of blue paint, and instead of a dairy room, it is converted into a common pantry. The other door led into the winter cellar, where we used to go for the nice apples, which formed the usual accompaniment of a winter evening. Oh, those pleasant evenings! what heeded we that the wintry storm raged without? Our evening meal was always dispatched, and the household duties all performed before the evening shadows fell around us. The fire burned brightly upon the clean swept hearth, shedding a cheerful glow over the room, while warming by its blaze stood a large dish of red and