But time passed on, and other changes came. They left their cottage
home where this great grief had rested upon them. Another darling
Mary was given them, and found a warm place in their affections. The
husband soon left his wife and child, and sought to build up his
fortune in a distant land, while the wife and mother dedicates her
time to the care of the dearly loved treasure her heavenly Father has
committed to her trust.

One brief year sped rapidly away, and winter again returned with his
winds. It was a wild night, the wintry winds howled fiercely round
the dwelling, and pelted the snow and sleet furiously against the
casement, when Mrs. Barlow, after attending to those duties that make
a New England home so comfortable, dropped her crimson curtains, and
seating herself by a comfortable coal fire, commenced preparing her
little Emma for bed.

"Oh," said she, "how the wind blows, mamma; what do poor little
children do that have no home?"

Said her mother, "God tempers the wind, my dear, to the shorn lamb."

"Mamma, do you know I am going to have a party and go to heaven and
invite my angel cousin?"

"Are you, indeed."

"But mamma, it is time to say our Father now," and the happy mother
listened to her dear child as she clasped her hands and lisped the
Lord's prayer, and the appropriate "now I lay me," after which she