"On the morning of the 11th July, the day of his death, he arose early and expressed himself as feeling unusually well, and ate a hearty breakfast. He took the Bible (he was a Methodist minister), and went and remained until near noon. He ate a hearty dinner, and went to the front gate, and, looking up and down the street, remarked that he could not, or at least would not be disappointed, some one was surely coming. During the afternoon and evening he seemed restless, and went to the gate, looking down street, frequently. At last, about time for supper, he mentioned my name, and expressed his conviction that God, in His own good time, would answer his prayers in my behalf, I being at that time very wild. Mother going into the kitchen to prepare supper, he followed her and continued talking to her about myself and family, and especially Arthur, my son. Supper being over, he moved his chair near the door, and was conversing about me at the time he died. The last words were about me, and were spoken, by mother's clock, 14 minutes of 7. He did not fall, but just quit talking and was dead. "In answer to my inquiries, my son Arthur says he remembers the circumstances, and the impression he received upon that occasion is ineffaceable. "SAMUEL S. FALKINBURG." We have procured a certificate of death from the Indianapolis Board of Health, which confirms the date given. Mrs. Falkinburg writes to us, on September 12, 1884:-- "In answer to your request, I will say that I cheerfully give my recollection of the circumstance to which you refer. "We were living in Brown County, Indiana, fifty miles south of Indianapolis, in the summer of 1879. My husband (Mr. S. S. Falkinburg) was in the employ of one John Ayers, buying staves. "On the evening of July 11th, about 6.30 o'clock, he came into the room where I was sitting, and lay down on the carpet with my little boy Arthur, complaining of being very tired and warm. Entering into conversation on some unimportant matter, Arthur went to him and lay down by his side. In a few moments my notice was attracted by hearing Arthur exclaim: 'Oh, papa, grandpa, grandpa, papa,' at the same time pointing with his little hand toward the ceiling. I looked in the direction he was pointing, but saw nothing. My husband, however, said: 'Clara, there is something wrong at home; father is either dead or very sick.' I tried to laugh him out of what I thought an idle fancy; but he insisted that he saw the face of his father looking at him from near the ceiling, and Arthur said, 'Grandpa was come, for he saw him.' That night we were awakened by Artie again calling his papa to see 'grandpa.'