following little poems were intended as sketches of the characteristics
of the two lovely children.

Some three years after, death bore away also little EMMA, a
child two years old, who had in some measure replaced the lost children
of the parsonage. To express the sparkling and exuberant vivacity of
this last darling of friends very dear to the writer, has been the
object of another simple lay. There are smitten hearts enough in the
homes to which this magazine finds its way to respond to notes that
would commemorate the infant dead.


LITTLE CHARLIE.

Beside our pilgrim path there sprang
A pleasant little rill,
Whose murmur, ever in our ear,
Was cheerful music still.

The earliest rays of brightening morn,
Back to our eyes it flashed,
And onward through the livelong day,
In tireless sport it dashed.

We loved the little sparkling rill,
We sunned us in its glance;--
The turf looked green where, near our feet,
It kept its joyous dance.

And welcome to our weariness