THE PARTING. OH, so light, sweet sister mine, Should your sorrow be for me; I can only feel so joyful, Or I, dear, would grieve for thee. Darling sister, we have shared In love and faith to our dear Lord, Can you grudge that I should go? Should I stay with you below,' When He bids me to His board, To the mansion He prepared me, To the place He keeps for me? Close, I think it is, my sister, To the one He has for thee. I did not think I could have been The happy day for me to die. You to serve the Master bere, To friends and husband doubly dear, And I to peace without alloy. Oh all things seem so poor and weak Now I see that world so near! Forgive me if you feel me gone E'en while I linger with thee, dear. I once, perhaps a little, wished To have seen your wedding-day, But now all earth, and thou, my sister, Vanish like a mist away: Vanish, as, though all unreal, As my Haven comes in sight, Comes my Home, my Rest, my Lord. He comes, Whom we have so adored. Day comes, and life seems but a night! Oh, I trust-I hold so fast To the mercy of my Lord,To His mercy, to His merit, Now and evermore adored. J. E. C. F. MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE EAST. PUTTING OFF SHOES. The IN the East, when a man goes into a holy place to pray he takes off his shoes. We take off the hat, but they take off the shoes. So at the burning bush, when God talked with Moses, he was told to take his shoes from off his feet, for the place on which he stood was holy ground. Jews, in their own land, did not wear shoes and stockings as we do; but they had a flat piece of leather, which was tied under their feet, and this was called a sandal. The servants used to tie these for their masters, and sometimes to carry them. The upper part of the foot was not covered, and got dusty, the servants, therefore, used to wash their masters' feet as soon as they came into a house. Jesus washed his disciples' feet, to show how humble He was, and to teach us that we ought to be humble too. THE WHEN TROUBLE IS GREATEST GOD'S HELP IS NEAREST. HERE was terrible distress in the year of famine, 1847, among the Silesian mountains, especially among the weavers' districts. Thousands died of famine typhus; the country was desolated; in some villages entire families perished. Thus it was in one village near Oppeln, in Upper Silesia, and there in a cottage the father, mother, and two out of four children, had died of typhus; they were buried quickly, and two other children, a boy of nine and his little sister of seven, remained behind in the cottage alone. Solitary and forsaken, the children sat and stared at the four bare walls. No one troubled themselves about the poor lonely ones, for almost everybody had sorrow enough of their own at that sad time. these into bundles, and carry them to Oppeln to sell. Each bundle is worth a groschen.* Ah! sister, if we are fortunate we may earn three groschen.' No sooner said than done. Next morning both children left the cottage, which stood in a solitary place just outside the village. A wooden bolt to the door was its only protection, but there was nothing to steal--no beds, no furniture-for in the famine and distress their parents had sold every article they possessed. Moreover, the children were so innocent themselves, that they never thought of any one else being so wicked as to steal. They went into the wood, where they refreshed themselves with whortle-berries, and then sought all day in the lonely forest for firewood. When it began to get dark, they returned home with three bundles, and looked forward with joy to the morrow, when they would go to Oppeln and sell the wood. With early dawn they started to the town. The boy carried two of the bundles, his little sister carried the third. Arrived in Oppeln, the boy said to his sister, Stay here with your bundle, sitting on the bridge; I am going further on, and when I have sold my wood, I shall come back and fetch yours.' Fortune smiled on the little fagot-gatherer. In an hour he had sold his wood, and showed his sister with glee the two groschen he had received for it. Rather more than a penny. The third bundle, too, found a purchaser in the course of the afternoon. Three groschen! No merchant on the Exchange, who had by a bold stroke won thousands, could be happier than the two children. Now the boy bought some bread. Oh! it tasted indeed like cake, for the children were very hungry. Their two-hours' walk home seemed to them an easy journey. They had earned their first money in their lives--honestly earned it, too; this made heart and feet light. Arrived in their cottage, both sat for some time in the dark, for they had neither oil nor candle for a light. The brother told the sister one pretty story after another, till at last both fell asleep. Next day wood was again collected, to be sold at Oppeln on the morrow. Success again crowned their efforts. The blessing of God plainly rested on their little business. The little man provided for everything like the father of a family. He got bread and salt, and even a sausage, which was regarded as a great dainty. Thus had the children passed six weeks of their lives, when the Lord of the Manor to whom the village belonged, and who lived on his estate a long way off, one day passed by the cottage. It happened just at the right time, for the children were sitting sorrowfully before the door, and the cold wind was blowing through their hair. The boy was thinking about the future, especially of the approaching winter. In storm and rain the brave boy had gathered wood and carried it to Oppeln to sell. But if snow and cold came? With no shoes, no stockings, scarcely even a shirt on his body, what should he do? When the Lord of the Manor saw them, he asked them where their father was. 'He is dead." Where is your mother, then?' |