"Some o' these days," she remarked, "there'll be a house-cleanin' in this house, and I won't be here. I'll be lyin' out in the old buryin' ground along-side of Abram; and my children and grandchildren, they'll be goin' through the closet and the bureau drawers like I'm doin' to-day, and every time I clean house, thinks I to myself: 'I'll make their work jest as light as I can;' so I git rid of all the rubbish, burn it up or give it away to somebody that can use it. But after all my burnin' and givin', I reckon there'll be a plenty of useless things left behind me. Here's this Shaker bonnet; now what's the use o' savin' such a thing? But every time I look at it I think o' Friend Fanny Lacy and the rest o' the old Shakers, whose like we'll never see again, and somehow I keep holdin' on to it." She thrust her hand into the bonnet, and holding it off, regarded it with a look of deep affection. The straw was yellow with age, and the lining and strings were faded and time-stained; but looking at it she saw the Shakers in shining garments, going through the streets of the old town, in the days when the spirit of Mother Ann burned in the souls of her followers and the blessing of heaven rested on Shakertown. Sighing gently, she laid the precious relic aside and took up the song she was singing when I called her to the porch to see the April snow-storm. It was Byrom's "Divine Pastoral:" The Lord is my shepherd, my guardian and guide; Whatsoever I want he will kindly provide, Ever since I was born, it is he that hath crowned The life that he gave me with blessings all round. . . . . . . . . Thro' my tenderest years, with as tender a care, My soul like a lamb in his bosom he bare; To the brook he would lead me, whene'er I had need And point out the pasture where best I might feed. . . . . . . . . The Lord is my shepherd; what then shall I fear? What danger can frighten me whilst he is near? Not when the time calls me to walk through the vale Of the Shadow of Death shall my heart ever fail; Tho' afraid, of myself, to pursue the dark way Thy rod and thy staff be my comfort and stay, For I know by thy guidance, when once it is past, To a fountain of life it will lead me at last.