"Here's some poetry!" I cried, turning the leaves over. The pleasure of the gift had chased away my tears. Young minds are impressionable--and had she not just said she would try to get well? "I will repeat it to you, Charley," she answered. "Listen." "Repeat it?" I interrupted. "Do you know it by heart?--all?" "Yes, all; every line of it. "'When death is drawing near, And thy heart sinks with fear, And thy limbs fail, Then raise thy hands and pray To Him who cheers the way, Through the dark vale. "'See'st thou the eastern dawn? Hear'st thou, in the red morn, The angels' song? Oh! lift thy drooping head, Thou who in gloom and dread Hast lain so long. "'Death comes to set thee free; Oh! meet him cheerily, As thy true friend; And all thy fears shall cease, And in eternal peace Thy penance end.' You see, Charley, death comes not as a foe, but as a friend to those who have learnt to look for him, for he is sent by God," she continued in a loving voice as she smoothed back my hair with her gentle hand. "I want you to learn this bit of poetry by heart, and to say it sometimes to yourself in future years. And--and--should mamma have gone away, then it will be pleasant to you to remember that the angels' song came to cheer her--as I know it will come--when she was setting out on her journey. Oh! very pleasant! and the same song and the same angel will cheer your departure, my darling child, when the appointed hour for it shall come to you." "Shall we _see_ the angel?" "Well--yes--with the eye of faith. And it is said that some good people have really seen him; have seen the radiant messenger who has come to take them to the eternal shores. You will learn it, Charley, won't you--and never forget it?" "I'll learn it all, every verse; and I will never forget it, mamma." "I am going to give you this book, also, Charley," she went on, bringing forward the other. "You----" "Why, that's your Bible, mamma!" "Yes, dear, it is my Bible; but I should like it to be yours. And I hope it will be as good a friend to you as it is now to me. I shall still use it myself, Charley, for a little while. You will lend it me, won't you? and later, it will be all your own." "Shall you buy another for yourself, then?" She did not answer. Her face was turned to the window; her yearning eyes were fixed in thought upon the blue sky; her hot hands were holding mine. In a moment, to my consternation, she bent her face upon mine and burst into a flood of tears. What I should have said or done, I know not; but at that moment my father came swiftly out of his study, into the room. He was a rather tall man with a pale, grave face, very much older than his wife. "Do you chance to remember, Lucy, where that catalogue of books was put that came last week? I want----" Thus far had he spoken, when he saw the state of things; both crying together. He broke off in vexation.