The winter began to approach; summer faded away, and little Bertie was very ill. The angels wanted him in their beautiful home, and one night, just before the snowy Christmas time, he drew his mamma’s face down to his and kissed it, put his arms around her neck, and whispered: “I am going, mamma; papa says so. I see him; he says Daisy will be your child now; the angels brought her here for you; and he says I can come to you again.” And so he passed away to the pure spirit world, where all is light and joy. His mamma wept over the cold, white body of her little boy, from which his sweet spirit had forever fled; but little Daisy only smiled as she gazed upon the tiny form, robed in its snowy raiment; for she had seen the spirit of her little playmate as it passed out from the earthly form and was clasped in the arms of its angel father, and she knew that Bertie had gone to live in that beautiful, wonderful land of sunshine and flowers, which she sometimes visited in her dreams. And how was it with our little Bertie? Oh, he was glad to come to our bright Summer-land and play with the birds, which sang so sweetly to him, as they perched upon his hand; for in the spirit world the little birds have no fear; we do not confine them in cages, but they live in the shrubs and among the flowers, and they are so tame they will come to us when we call them, and alighting on hand or shoulder will delight us with their melodious songs. Bertie’s father lives not far away from the sweet spot which to me is home in the spirit world; and so it happened that the little boy was brought to me to learn of the many beautiful things in the Summer-land, and to join with other little people under my charge in gaining a knowledge of life and its duties. And what a dear, sweet little fellow he is; always happy and contented, ever ready to part with the most beautiful flower or bird he possesses, if it will enhance the pleasure of some one else; always anxious to return to earth and bear messages from spirits to those who long to hear from their friends. We all love him for his goodness and truth. It was about two weeks after Bertie’s flight to the Summer-land; the snow lay thick and white around the earthly home of his mother; it had been a hard day of toil and pain for that poor woman, for she was obliged to labor, even while a severe cold, which had seized upon her, seemed to tear her lungs with merciless fingers; and now in the twilight hour, with little Daisy sitting at her feet, the tears fell thick and fast from her weary eyes as she thought only of that little snow-covered grave in the lonely church-yard.