As the time appointed for his departure drew near, William's heart
became very sad. The prospect of being separated from his friend
George gave him no little pain. He shrunk, too, from the idea of
living with perfect strangers.

Time, however, waits for no one. The day but one before that on which
he was to set out arrived; and having gone around to say farewell to
his acquaintances, he made his last visit to the church-yard where his
parents lay buried. His mother had been peculiarly fond of flowers,
and when obliged to give up her garden, had beautified and planted her
husband's grave with some of the choicest of her treasures. Her only
recreation was this labour of love; for she took a mournful pleasure
in thus decorating the little hillock, and she spared no pains to keep
it in order. It is a well-known custom of the Germans to adorn graves
with flowers; and inheriting this feature of her country's usages to
the fullest extent, she had ornamented the little space allotted for
their burial-place with taste and beauty.

Now she was herself sleeping among the flowers she had planted and
tended, but no want of care was yet visible about the spot; kind hands
had made up the grave, and William had removed the roses she nourished
in pots, sinking them in the earth; and now, in the full bloom of
summer beauty, they were shedding their fragrance and leaves over the
little mounds.

The orphan boy came for the last time to visit the spot where his
dearest earthly treasure was buried. He knelt down beside the graves,
and wept as he prayed that God would go forth with and protect him in
the new station which he must now fill.