Forget her not! though now her name Be but a mournful sound.—Hemans. Just as Alfred’s papa had finished saying these words they reached the gate of the house where they were to breakfast. It belonged to a friend of Mr. Penrose, who wished to see him on some business; and Mr. Penrose had chosen the early part of the day for the visit, because he was generally much engaged at other times. Alfred saw that the gentleman looked very serious; and that no lady sat down to the breakfast-table After they had finished eating breakfast, William’s papa told him that he might take Alfred out into the garden, to walk. Rosa also went with them, and seemed very cheerful and kind; and showed Alfred her rabbits, and her birds and flowers. She said, “William used to love these, and helped me to take care of them once; but he does not care anything about them now.” William said, “I did love them when mamma was here, Rosa; but now everything makes me feel sorry.” Then Rosa turned red, and went into the house; and William cried very much, as Alfred stood by him. Alfred said, “Has your mamma gone away from you?” “Yes,” said little William, “my mamma died two weeks ago. I know she has gone to heaven; but I miss her very much. Nobody loves me as she did.” “But you know if you are a good boy you will go to heaven too, William, and see your dear mamma in that beautiful place.” “Yes, I know it,” said William. “She told me so before she died. She said if I was a good boy it would not be long before I should come to her; and that then she would not go away from me any more.” Alfred was an affectionate child. His heart was full of sorrow for little William. All the way home he could talk of nothing else: but he was glad when his papa told him that William’s father had promised William came; and soon felt quite at home. Mrs. Penrose liked to hear him talk of his good mother; and all the family loved him, for he was a good-tempered and interesting little fellow. The evening after Alfred’s first visit to William, he told his sister Jane about him. The next morning she brought him a folded paper, and, as she opened it, said, “Alfred, I thought so much of your little friend last night that I wrote some verses about him, which I will read to you.” THE MOTHERLESS BOY. It is the hour when I was wont, At my lost mother’s knee, To say my little evening prayer, Before she read to me. But many weary months have pass’d, And many tears I’ve shed, Since I have felt her gentle hand Laid kindly on my head. The hour I loved so dearly once, Now only sorrow brings; No mother reads the word of life, Or song of Zion sings. A stranger comes, with careless voice And bids for bed prepare; And often hardly gives me time To say a hurried prayer. Although this room is just the same, It wears a mournful look; Yet here’s her bed, and here’s the stand Which bears the holy book, That tells me of another land, In which she dwelleth now: With pale and earnest brow! In other days this little room A temple seem’d to me; She taught me here to worship God In truth and purity. The fields beneath the window smile, And wear their summer hue; The flowers she nursed look gay and bright, As when they met her view. Yet, O, to me no thought of joy This happy season bears; All dimm’d are these delightful scenes With thick and blinding tears. I cannot laugh as once I could, Nor hide the deep distress That breaks my heart, when I reflect That I am motherless. And, sister, when I see you stand, With such an anxious air, Before the glass, your sash to fix, And smooth your braided hair; I think of one so far above The petty pride of dress; Who only shone in plain attire And simple loveliness. Be in our memory set; And her example, pure and bright, Ah, let us not forget! We see her not; but I believe Her mild and pitying-eye From heaven with anxious love looks down, Our actions to espy. FOR SUNDAY-SCHOOL CHILDREN. Published at 200 Mulberry-street, N. Y. LITTLE ROSE; Or, Stories on the Lord’s Prayer. 48mo. Pages 170. Price, twenty cents. EMILY; Or, Early Days. 48mo. Pages 208. Price, twenty-five cents. CHARLOTTE BROWN; Or, I am so glad I have been to Sabbath School. 48mo. Pages 92. Price, eighteen cents. HELPS FOR EVERY HOUR. 48mo. Pages 48. Price, eighteen cents. PLEASANT DAYS WITH AUNT HOWARD. 48mo. Pages 104. Price, 20 cents. THE WAY TO JESUS 48mo. Pages 104. Price, twenty cents. Little Stories for Children. Rose Leaf. By Uncle William. First Foreign Missions. The Child Jesus. The Hazel Nut. Wonderful Machine. The Cherry and Peach. African Orphan Boy. Little Mickey. Mohammedan Children. Heathen Brother. Hen and Chickens. Bird’s Nest. Swan and Glow-worm.
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