part from them. Perhaps I have tried parting with my own, and not found
the business very pleasant. Perhaps I recollect driving down (with a
certain trunk and carpet-bag on the box) with my own mother to the end
of the avenue, where we waited--only a few minutes--until the whirring
wheels of that "Defiance" coach were heard rolling towards us as certain
as death. Twang goes the horn; up goes the trunk; down come the steps.
Bah! I see the autumn evening: I hear the wheels now: I smart the cruel
smart again: and, boy or man, have never been able to bear the sight of
people parting from their children.

I thought these little men might be going to school for the first time
in their lives; and mamma might be taking them to the doctor, and would
leave them with many fond charges, and little wistful secrets of love,
bidding the elder to protect his younger brother, and the younger to be
gentle, and to remember to pray to God always for his mother, who would
pray for her boy too. Our party made friends with these young ones
during the little journey; but the poor lady was too sad to talk except
to the boys now and again, and sat in her corner, pale, and silently
looking at them.

The next day, we saw the lady and her maid driving in the direction
of the railway-station, WITHOUT THE BOYS. The parting had taken place,
then. That night they would sleep among strangers. The little beds at
home were vacant, and poor mother might go and look at them. Well, tears
flow, and friends part, and mothers pray every night all over the
world. I dare say we went to see Heidelberg Castle, and admired the vast
shattered walls and quaint gables; and the Neckar running its bright
course through that charming scene of peace and beauty; and ate our
dinner, and drank our wine with relish. The poor mother would eat but
little Abendessen that night; and, as for the children--that first night