ELIZA HUGGINS; NANNIE WILLIAMSON; JULIA LA FRAMBOISE.

ELIZA W. HUGGINS.

The Lord came to his garden, and gathered three fair flowers, which now bloom in the city of our God. We, who knew their beauty, come to lay our loving remembrances upon their graves.

Eliza Wilson Huggins was the third child of Alexander G. and Lydia Huggins. She was born March 7, 1837, and died June 22, 1873.

She early gave herself to Jesus, and her lovely life was like a strain of sacred music, albeit its years of suffering brought out chords of minor harmony.

This young girl, in the dawn of womanhood, with gentle step and loving voice, was a revelation to us who were younger than she. Huguenot blood ran swiftly in her veins, and grief and joy were keen realities to her sensitive soul. But she quieted herself as a child before the Lord, and he gave her the ornament which is without price. Though she wist not, her face shone, and we, remembering, know that she had been with Jesus.

Her sister, Mrs. Holtsclaw, writes: “We are of Huguenot descent on our father’s side. Our great-great-grandfather was born at sea in the flight from France to England. Two brothers (in that generation or the one following) came to America, one settling in North Carolina, the other in New England. Our grandfather left North Carolina when father was a small boy, because he thought slavery wrong, and did not wish his children exposed to its influences.

“Grandmother Huggins was a sister of Rev. James Gilliland of Red Oak, Ohio. She was a very earnest Christian, and often prayed that her descendants, to the latest generation, might be honest, humble followers of Jesus.

“Eliza was converted, and united with the church in Felicity, Ohio, under the pastorate of Rev. Smith Poage. She was, I think, about twelve years of age.”

She was a most loving daughter, sister, and friend, because she had given herself unreservedly to Him who yearns to be more than friend, mother, or brother to us all. When heavy bereavements came upon the family, Jesus kept their hearts from breaking. The dear father went the way of all the earth. Then a brother-in-law, who was a brother indeed; then the elder brother, tried and true, in an instant of time, speeds home to heaven; and again a younger brother, in his bright youth; these three were the family’s offering upon the altar of freedom. A costly offering! A heavy price paid! “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.”

For seven years Miss Huggins taught school as continuously as her health permitted. Her methods as a teacher were followed by peculiar success. She loved children, and had a most earnest desire to help them up to all that is best and wisest in life. Children know by instinct whose is the firm yet loving hand stretched out to lead them in the paths of pleasantness and peace. Some of this time she taught in the mission school. Her sister says:—

“I cannot write of her long sickness, her intense suffering, her patient waiting to see what the Lord had in store for her; all this is too painful for me. St. Anthony, where she first came with such bright hopes of finding health, was the place from which she went to her long rest. It was the place where she found cure.

“The Dakota text-book, which she and Nannie prepared, was a labor of much thought and prayer. It was not published until after she had gone home.”

Mignonette and sweet violets may well be emblem flowers for this lovely sister. Would that I might strew them on her grave, in the early summer-time, as a farewell till we meet again.

NANCY JANE WILLIAMSON.

BY M. R. M.

When an army marches on under fire, and one after another falls by the way, the ranks close up that there may ever be an unbroken front before the foe. So in life’s battle, as one by one drops out of the ranks, we who are left must needs march on. Yet, if we stop a little to think and talk of the ones gone, it may help us as we press forward. Then, to-day let us bring to mind something of the life of a sister departed.

Nannie J. Williamson was born at Lac-qui-parle, Minn., on the 28th of July, 1840. From her birth she was afflicted with disease of the spine, so that she was almost two years old before she walked at all, and then her ankles bent and had to be bound in splints. “Aunt Jane” mentions that Nannie was in her fourth year when she first saw her, and at that time, when the children went out to play, her brother John either carried her or drew her in a little wagon, to save her the fatigue of walking. So she must have truly borne the yoke in her youth. That the burden was not lifted as the years went by, we may judge from the facts that when away at school, both in Galesburg, Ill., and Oxford, Ohio, she was under the care of a physician; and she almost always studied her lessons lying on her back.

Though her days were stretched out to her 38th year, her body never fully ripened into womanhood, and her heart never lost the sweetness and simplicity of the child. It was not so with her mind. Overleaping the body, with a firm and strong grasp, it took up every object of thought, and filled its storehouse of knowledge.

“The date of her conversion is not known. She loved Jesus from a child.”

In the fall of 1854 our family moved to within two miles of Dr. Williamson’s new station of Pay-zhe-hoo-ta-zee, or Yellow Medicine. From that time we were intimately associated, and many delightful memories are connected with those days. In September, 1857, Nannie went to the W. F. Seminary at Oxford, Ohio. She made many friends among her school-mates, and all respected her for her consistent character, her faithfulness in her studies, and her earnestness in seeking to bring others to Christ. One with more thankful humility never lived. She was always so very grateful for the least favor or kindness done her, and seemed ever to bear them in mind. She was exceedingly thoughtful for other people, never seemed to think evil of any one, and never failed to find kindly excuses for one’s conduct if excuses were possible. After the burning of the seminary building, the senior class, of which Nannie was one, finished their studies in a house secured for that purpose. Then followed the sorrowful days of ’62, that broke up so many homes, ours among others. Some time after, Nannie wrote this: “It is a little more than a year since we left our dear old homes. I wonder if our paths will ever lie so near together again as they have in times past. Who can tell? But though we may seem to be far apart, we trust we are journeying to the same place, and we shall meet there.”

During the months that Nannie’s mother waited to be released from earthly suffering, the daughter spared none of her strength to do what she could for the faithful, patient mother. After there was nothing more to do on earth for that mother, then indeed Nannie felt the effects of the long strain on body and mind. Even then her nights were painful and unresting. But, after recruiting a little, she entered upon the work to which her thoughts had often turned, that of uplifting the Dakota women and children. In 1873, “she joined her brother, Rev. J. P. Williamson, in missionary labor, at Yankton agency, Dakota Territory, under the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, and continued in it until her death, November 18, 1877.”

“Her knowledge of the Scriptures was such that the minister scarcely needed any other concordance when she was by, and during her last illness every conversation was accompanied with Scripture quotations.

“Notwithstanding her physical weakness, she taught school and did much other work; and, as all was consecrated to the Lord, we are sure she has much fruit in glory. Many in the Sabbath-schools of Traverse and St. Peter received lessons from her, whose impression will last to eternity.”

In the spring of 1876, she went to Ohio on the occasion of a reunion of the first five graduating classes of the W. F. Seminary, Oxford, Ohio. She desired with great desire to meet her class-mates, and the beloved principal, Miss Helen Peabody; and also to visit relatives, among them two aged aunts, one of whom crossed over to the other side a little before her. She took great delight in her visit, and yet her nights were wearisome, and she was probably not entirely comfortable at any time. But she did not complain.

On her last visit home her face bore the impress of great suffering. It was with difficulty she could raise either hand to her head, and could only sleep with her arms supported on pillows. They would fain have kept her at home, but she longed to do what she could as long as she could. So she went back, taught in the school, visited the sick, read from the Bible in the tents, and prayed. In her last illness some of these women came and prayed with her, and so comforted her greatly. She did not forget her brother’s children, in her anxiety for the heathen around them, and they will long remember Aunt Nannie’s prayerful instructions.

With so little strength as she had, it was not strange that, when fever prostrated her, she could not rally again. So she lay for nearly eight weeks, suffering much, but trusting much also. At times she hoped to be able to work again for the women, if the Lord willed. But when she knew that her earthly life was nearly ended, she sent this message to her aunt: “Do not grieve, dear aunt, Though I had desired to do much for these women and girls, the prospect of heaven is very sweet.” For a while she had said now and then: “I wonder how long I shall have to lie here and wait,” but one day she remarked, “I do not feel at all troubled now about how long I may have to wait: Jesus has taken that all away.” When any one came in to see her, she said a few words, and as the school children were gathered around her one day she talked to them a little while for the last time. Two days before her death, she dictated a letter to her father, who had himself been very near death’s door, but was recovering: “I do rejoice that God has restored you to health again. I trust that years of usefulness and happiness may still be yours. I am gaining both in appetite and strength. I feel a good deal better.” But the night that followed was a sleepless one, and the next day she suffered greatly. About dark her brother said to her, “You have suffered a great deal to-day.” She answered, “Yes, but the worst is over now.” He said, “Jesus will send for you,” and she replied, “Yes, I think he will, for he says, ‘I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am.’”

She spoke now and then to different ones, a word or two, asked them to read some Scripture texts from the “Silent Comforter” that hung where she could always see it, wanted it to be turned over, and, with her face to the wall, she seemed to go to sleep. She so continued through the night, her breath growing fainter and fainter. And at day-break on the morning of the Sabbath the other life began. “That is the substance, this the shadow; that the reality, this the dream.”

JULIA LA FRAMBOISE.

Julia A. La Framboise was the daughter of a French trader and of a Dakota mother. When nine years of age, her father placed her in Mr. Huggins’ family. In that Christian home she learned to love her Saviour, and, one year later, covenanted forever to be his. Her father was a Catholic, and would have preferred that his daughter remain in that church, but allowed her to choose for herself. His affection for her and hers for him was very strong.

After her father’s death, Julia determined to use her property in obtaining an education. She spent two years in the mission school at Hazelwood, then going to the W. F. Seminary, Oxford, Ohio, and for a short time to Painesville, Ohio, and afterward to Rockford, Ill. Having taken a full course of study there, she returned to Minnesota as a teacher.

Our mother had a warm affection for Julia, as indeed for each of the others of whom we write. Julia called our house one of her homes, and, whenever with us, she took a daughter’s share in the love and labor of the household.

A story of my mother’s childhood illustrates the spirit of benevolence by which she influenced Miss La Framboise among others. Her surviving sister, Mrs. Lucretia S. Cooley, writes:—

“When the first missionaries from the vicinity of my early home, Mr. and Mrs. Richards of Plainfield, went to the Sandwich Islands, sister Mary was a little girl. She was deeply impressed by the story of the wants of the children, as portrayed by Mr. Richards, and expressed a strong desire to accompany him. She had just learned to sew quite nicely. Looking up to mother, she said, ‘I could teach the little girls to sew.’ Here was the missionary spirit. Those who go to the Indians, to the islands of the sea, to Africa, must needs be ready to teach all things, doing it as to the Lord.”

When the call to teach among her own people came, Miss La Framboise gladly embraced the opportunity, laboring for them in season and out of season for two short years. Her health failing, she was taken to her old home in Minnesota, where she died, September 20, 1871, but twenty-eight years of age.

Mrs. Holtsclaw, one of her girlhood friends, went to her in that last sickness. She wrote: “I was with her when she died. It was beautiful to see the steady care and gentle devotion of her step-mother, of the rest of the family, and of the neighbors.”

Miss La Framboise was thoroughly educated, thoroughly the lady; always loyal to her people, even when they were most hated and despised; always generous in her deeds and words; always to be depended upon.

Oh, could we but have kept her to work many years for the ennobling and Christianizing of the Dakotas!

Bring lilies of the prairie for this grand-daughter of a chieftain—ay, more, this daughter of the King!

I. R. W.