• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Copyright
 Preface
 Table of Contents
 I
 II
 III
 IV
 V
 VI
 VII
 VIII
 IX
 X
 XI
 XII
 Modern Criticism
 Truth
 Contentment
 Puzzle
 Charade
 Puzzle
 Poems
 Back Cover
 Spine






Group Title: The old farm gate : containing stories and poems for children and youth
Title: The Old farm gate
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
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STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002148/00001
 Material Information
Title: The Old farm gate containing stories and poems for children and youth
Alternate Title: Old farm gate or Stories & poems for children & youth
The Old farm gate or Stories and poems for children and youth
Physical Description: 159 p., 4 leaves of plates : ill. ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Coe, Richard, c1820-1873
Sherman, Conger, 1793-1867 ( Printer )
Daniels & Smith ( Publisher )
L. Johnson & Co ( Stereotyper )
Publisher: Published by Daniels & Smith
Place of Publication: Philadelphia
Manufacturer: Stereotyped by L. Johnson & Co. ; C. Sherman, printer
Publication Date: 1852
 Subjects
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1852   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1852   ( lcsh )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by Richard Coe, author of "Poems," "Criticisms," etc. ; with illustrations.
General Note: Wood engravings: frontispiece, illustrated plates by Stevens.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002148
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002224533
oclc - 32128168
notis - ALG4799
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front page 1
    Frontispiece
        Front page 2
    Title Page
        Page 1
    Copyright
        Page 2
    Preface
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Table of Contents
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    I
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
    II
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
    III
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
    IV
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
    V
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
    VI
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47a
        Page 47
        Page 48
    VII
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
    VIII
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
    IX
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
    X
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
    XI
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
    XII
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
    Modern Criticism
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
    Truth
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
    Contentment
        Page 111
        Page 112
    Puzzle
        Page 113
    Charade
        Page 114
    Puzzle
        Page 115
    Poems
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131a
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
    Back Cover
        Page 160
    Spine
        Page 161
Full Text


































I I







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At







THE


OLD FARM GATE;




Atoriti aud frnns for (4iilhirz ad vti




BY RICHARD COE,
AUTVlO OF "PO3ISf" "CBII.OISMIrS" 0.



Speak gently to the little chld,
Its love be mI to gain;
Teach it in accents sft and mild,
It may noI long remainl"--D. Bais.


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.


PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY DANIELS & SMITH.
NO. 86 IORTHB IaTH mTrLXT.
1852.
























Ztro-ed aowdiVg to Ad qf aesgreuw ti e n eur 186 2 by
RICHARD 001

is tW IrK' s ofi f Wt Diarid (but f tah saten Didric
Fcrn"Syk~il.








erfaoPrm BI L. uo iE & 00.
PmADElm"M
c. SKII.NSN 13ZN!.











PREFACE.



IN appearing before the public with this little
volume of stories and poems for children and youth,
the writer feels that a few words are necessary by
way of introduction.
Did he not fear of its savouring too much of
egotism, he would say that he most sincerely be-
lieves that much may be found herein calculated to
elevate the thoughts, purify the hearts, and en-
lighten the minds of his youthful readers.
The title of the volume may be objected to by
some, as one not adapted to convey a true idea of
its contents. To this he would answer, that the
little poem of "The Old Farm Gate," from which
the book derives its name, was so favourably noticed
by the press when it was originally published, that
he has been induced thereby to use it as a title for
the present volume, by way of endorsement of its
general contents, as the same pure morality which
distinguished that poem will be found to prevail to a
considerable extent throughout the following pages.
8






4 PREFACE.

Many of the articles, and among them the fol-
lowing, were penned under the influence of an
ardent affection for his own home and family:-

THE CASKET AND THE JEWELS.
I have a casket rich and rare,
Three jewels bright within;
And though I often view them there,
They never can grow dim!
They sparkle in the morning sun,
Like dew-drops on the flowers;
And when the evening shadows come,
They cheer my dreaming hours.
Yes! mine is wealth beyond compare,
And well I know its worth;
My wife and little ones so dear,
That cluster round my hearth-
These are my jewels, all so fair,
The casket is my home;
Oh! these are all my heart holds dear,
Nor will I from them roam!

And now, with a yearning of tenderness towards
the little ones of others, he gives this volume to
the world and its decision; and whatever that deci-
sion may be, should the face of but one little inno-
cent child be gladdened with a smile of happiness
and of peace while perusing its pages, the writer
will have had his reward. R. C.













CONTENTS.






CHAPTER I.

PAGx
The Promise-Its Performance...............................11


CHAPTER II.

Undue Anxiety- Usefulness Remembrance The
Angel of our Home........................... .............. 18


CHAPTER III.

Kissing the Little Angel-Secrets-Angel Whisper-
ings-The Omnipresence of God ........................26


CHAPTER IV.

Artificial Flowers -Natural Flowers-The White
Daisy .. ............................... ........................ 82
1* 5







b CONTENTS.


CHAPTER V.
PAGB
The Mistake-Licenses-The Evils of Intemperance- '-
The Children of the Poor Man...............................386



CHAPTER VI.

More About Poverty-The Forlorn Hope-Good Re-
solutions-Thankfulness-Good-Night................. 42



CHAPTER VII.

All About Love-Love thy Mother, Little )ne-Do I
Love Thee ?...................................................... 49



CHAPTER VIII.

Something About Death-Joy and Sorrow-The Little
Boy That Died .................................... ..... .... 56



CHAPTER IX.

More About Death-The Grave-The Household
Dirge-Another Poetical License...........................04






CONTENTS.


CHAPTER X.
rPA
Courtship-Marriage--The Country Lassie and her
Mpther.......................... .......... ..... .......... ....... L. 72


CHAPTER XI.

Winter is boming-Willie and the Birds-Faith-
Balled of the Tempest................................... ..81


CHAPTER XII.

Contentment and Peace-Gentle Words-The Child
and the Mourners-The Pebble and the Acorn.........89





MISCELLANIES.

Modern Criticism.................................... ........ 104
Truth ............. ............ .................................... 108
Contentment ................. ............................... .... 111
Puzzle .............................................................118
Charade..........................................................114
Puzzle .... ............................................. ..........115







0 CONTENTS.





POEMS.

PAGN
Life's Seasons...................................... ...........116
The Vacant Chair............................................ 118
The Poet's Choice................... ..........................120
Childhood...........................................................128
Smiles and Tears.............................................124
Fortune Telling............................................. 128
The Snow Flakes............................................. 130
Christ Walking on the Sea................................. 131
I Want to go Home. ........................................ 133
Joy and Sorrow................................................134
Emblems .......................................................187
My Father ......................................................138
My Mother.........................................................140
Our Little Boy.......... ................................... 141
Our Little Girl...... .......... ................................. 148
The Memory of the Past ...............................144
The Rain-Drop .... o........................................... 146
If I were a Smile ..................................... ..... 148
The Streamlet's Teachings............. ..................149






CONTENTS. 9

PACs
The Stormy Petrel.............................................160
Life...................................... ........... ............ ...162
You and I..........................................................152
Brother and Sister ................... ..................4...... 154
We are Dreamers All......................... ..... .... ...... 56
Autumn Musings................................................ 167
Be Happy...... ....................................................1 169















































































































































(1












THE


OLD FARM GATE.



CHAPTER I.
THE PROMISE-ITS PERFORMANCE.
"0, MAMMA! don't you remember you
promised to read us some pretty stories to-
night, after we went to bed ?" said little Mary
Somerville, to her mother, one evening in
autumn, as her parents rose from the supper-
table to go up-stairs into their own room, in
order to prepare the children for bed. "Don't
you remember it, mamma? Oh, won't it be
nice, Harry?" she said, addressing her little
brother, who was some three years older than
herself.
11






12 THE OLD FARM GATE.

"Oh, yes, indeed it will be nice!" said he;
"and we, too, promised to be right good
children if she would do so. Do you remem-
ber that, my dear little sister?"
Mr. and Mrs. Somerville were a young
couple in moderate circumstances, residing in
Philadelphia, who had been happily married
about ten years, and who in that time had been
blessed with three sweet little children-Harry,
Mary, and Cordelia Somerville-whom they
loved with tender affection, and for whom they
were willing to undergo many little sacrifices of
personal comfort to insure their happiness.
On the occasion of the opening of our story,
Mrs. Somerville, desirous of pleasing her
children, had, in the afternoon of that day,
promised to read some stories to them at bed-
time, which promise, it seems, the children had
not forgotten, and now, through little Mary,
were disposed to remind her of.
Mrs. Somerville felt considerably fatigued
with the labours of the day, and would, there-






.THE o) PARM GATE. 13

fore, have gladly availed herself of any rea-
sonable excuse to comply with her promise to
her children, had she not remembered, how
important a thing it was to instil into the
minds of her little ones, the duty of always
keeping a promise when faithfully made, she
therefore replied, ,"Oh yes, my dear child, I
remember it; and when you have each said
your prayers, and are all safely in bed, I will
willingly read you a little story."
It is needless, I suppose, for me to inform
my readers that the children were not long
undressing and getting into bed; indeed, so
anxious were they to have the reading com-
menced, that they would even have hurried
over their prayers, had not their mother told
them how wrong it would be to do so, and how
important it was to speak slowly and reve-
rently when addressing their Maker and their
God.
,"Now, mamma, now we are all tucked in,"
said Mary, "now begin."
Mrs. Somerville took a book from the table








14 THE OLD PARM GATI.

near her, and said, "I have been thinking, my
dear children, that your papa and myself would
take turn about in reading to you--I to-night,
and papa to-morrow night. What say you to
that arrangement, my dear?" she said, smil-
ingly addressing her husband/," shall it be so ?"
Just as you say, my dear," he replied, ever
ready to assist his wife in the correct training
of their children.
"cWell, then, my little darlings," said Mrs.
Somerville, ,"I have selected, for this even-
ing's reading, a little poem, composed by your
own dear papa, called 'The Old Farm Gate,'
so now you must lay right still and listen to
every word of it; and on to-morrow, should
you awake in health, I want to see who can
tell m4 most about it."
"Is it all about a rickety old gate, mamma?"
said little Harry, in a tone of disappointment;
why, ma, I don't think that will be pretty !"
"Oh, no, my darling, not at all," said Mrs.
Somerville, ,"but it's about a little boy and
a little girl, and a horse and a dog, and-but






S HE OLD PAR GATE. 15

lay still now, and don't speak a word, and you
shall hear all about it, and I know you will be
pleased."
Very well; go on, mamma," said the chil-
dren in a breath.

THE OLD FARM GATE.
Ilove it I love it! and oft pas it by,
With a sigh in my breast, and a tear in my eye,
As backward I gaze on the days that are passed,
Too sunny, and joyous, and happy to last;
Oh! my life was young and my spirit elate,
In the time that I dwelt by the old farm gate!

How oft have I mounted that old gate, astride,
With a rope and a stick for a frolicsome ride;
And when it would open with slow gentle force,
"Gee I whoa l" would I cry to my gay mimic horse:
Who so merry as I, as I fearlessly sate,
On the broad topmost rail of the old farm gate?

And by turns we would ride on a real live horse,
We called his name Raven, so black was his gloss;
And our plump little pony, so frolic and wild
When he carried a man-was never so mild
If he knew my sweet sister, the pert little Kate,
Was to ride on his back from the old farm gate.








16 THE OLD PARM GATE.

And Trowler, our little dog Trowler, was there,
His bark of delight sounding loud on the air;
And if we were happy as happy could be,
Little Trowler I'm sure was happy as we:
We wept when he died, and we laid him in state,
At the foot of the tree by the old farm gate.

Long before we grew up my kind father died,
And soon my dear mother was laid by his side;
Then Tommy, and next my sweet little sister,
Oh! how we did weep as we bent o'er and kiss'd her;
And Willie wold have it, he saw little Kate,
Pass homeward to God through the old farm gate.

I love it, I love it, and oft pass it by,
With a sigh in my breast and a tear in my eye;
As backward I gaze, on the days that are pass'd,
And wonder if I may yet rest me at last,
With father, and mother, and sweet little Kate,
In the churchyard, back of the old farm gate.


"cIs that all, mamma?" said Harry, when
his mother laid down the book. < Oh! what a
i beautiful little poem. And did pa really com-
pose it, too? Why, papa, how came you to
think of so many pretty things to write about?






THE OLD FARM GATE. 17

I felt exactly while ma was reading it to us as
though I was in the country, at uncle Thomas
Scattergood's, and saw little cousin Frankie
riding on the gate as he used often to do
when we were there."
The children all acquiesced in Harry's opin-
ion of the poem, and in a few moments more
were soundly asleep.
We have made our little ones very happy,"
said Mrs. Somerville to her husband.
Yes, my dear," he replied, c and that too
without filling their minds with nonsensical
fairy and other improbable stories of doubtful
morality. I think, my dear," he added, ,"we
can be of great service to our children in this
way."
Mr. and Mrs. Somerville now betook them-
selves to reading for their own pleasure and
instruction, and thus pleasantly whiled away
the balance of the evening.


2*






18 THE OLD FARM GATE.






CHAPTER II.

UNDUE ANXIETY-USEFULNESS--REMEMBRANCE-THE
ANGEL OF OUR HOME.

IN the morning, as soon as Cordelia awoke,
she said to her mother, "Oh, mamma, how I
do wish it was to-night! that you might read
to us again."
SAnd so do I," said Harry.
ccAnd so do I," said Mary.
Mrs. Somerville spoke kindly to her chil-
dren, and told them it was not right to wish
the time to pass rapidly away; explaining to
them, as well as she could, how invaluable a
gift it was from their kind heavenly Father,
in order that they might prepare for Eternity.
She told them it was their duty tQ thank him
for the morning light, and try to be contented
and happy throughout the day, and endeavour,






THE OLD FARM GATE. 19

if possible, to occupy the time usefully; and
that they might be enabled to do so, she said
she would hereafter give them each, day by
day, something to do for herself.
< Cordelia," she said to the youngest, "you
hold this skein of thread for me while I wind it,
and you Mary may make up the little trundle
bed; and you, Master. Harry, can carry this
empty scuttle down stairs, and leave it in the
cellar to be filled with coal."
The children' eyes fairly sparkled with de-
light, to think that they were really going to
be of use to so good a mamma, and they pro-
ceeded at once with pleasure to perform the
several tasks allotted to them.
,"Now, my little dears," said Mrs. Somer-
ville to them, after the room had been put in
order for the morning, I want to see who re-
members most about The Old Farm Gate' I
read to you last night."
Try me first, mamma," said Mary.
,"No! no! try me first, ma," said Harry,
9"I'm the oldest."







20 THE OLD FARM GATE.

"No! no! try me first, mamma," said little
Cordelia.
SI will try you all together, my dear chil-
dren," said Mrs. Somerville; t"so now com-
mence and tell me what you remember about
it."
"I remember something about a little boy
riding on a gate, and a little dog barking,"
said Harry.
"And I remember something about a little
girl riding on a horse, and about her dying
and going up to heaven," said Mary.
" I forget what I remember," said little Cor-
delia.
Mrs. Somerville could not help smiling at
the innocent simplicity of her child, while
Harry and Mary both laughed outright at
their sister-they thought it was so good a
joke-that little Cordelia should forget what
she remembered.
Thus the day was happily passed by Mrs.
Somerville and her children, and at night,






THE OLD FARM GATE. 21

when the bell rang for supper, Harry said to
his father:
"Papa, it's your turn to read to us to-
night."
i"What are you going to read about, pa?"
said Mary.
"tWait until we get up-stairs, and you'll
see," said Mr. Somerville.
" But all the satisfaction the children could
get out of their father, as he rose from the
supper table, was, "wait until we get up-stairs,
and you'll see."
" merville, after they were once more safely in
bed, "tyou seemed so well pleased with 'The
Old Farm Gate,' that your mamma read to you
last night, that I have composed another little
poem, to read to you this evening. Now, see,"
said he, ,"who can tell what it's about?"
" Well, what is it about, Harry?" said Mr.
Somerville.







22 THE OLD FARM GATE.

"It's about a dog," said Harry.
,"No! my dear," said Mr. Somerville, smil-
ing; ,"guess again."
,"It's about a cat," said Mary.
" again."
"I know! I know what it's about, papa,"
said little Cordelia.
,"Well, what's it about, Cordelia?" said Mr.
Somerville.
"It's about nothing," said Cordelia.
Oh! pray papa, do tell us what it's about,"
said the children, now growing quite impa-
tient.
Well, then," said Mr. Somerville, taking
his youngest child in his lap, i"it's about a
good little girl, whose name is-"
What, papa?" said Mary.
,"Whose name is-Cordelia," said Mr. So-
merville, kissing his little daughter with a loud
smack of the lips.
," What, our little Cora?" said Harry.
<"Yes, our own little Cora," said Mr. So-






THE OLD FARM GATE. 3

merville; and now, if you will listen atten-
tively to me, I will read it to you."
The children laid very quietly in bed, and in
a few moments Mr. Somerville began to read.

THE ANGEL OF OUR HOME.
We have an angel in our home,
A bright and happy one,
With hair as golden as the clouds
Around the setting sun!
Her eyes are like the stars that gem
The beauty of the night,
And over all her face they shed
An exquisite delight!

We have an angel in our home,
And lovingly at morn
She twines her rosy arms about
Our little, eldest born:
To say we love her would but ill
Our feelings fond express;
We gaze upon her and we feel
A wealth of tenderness!







m THE OLD FARM GATE.

We have an angel in our home,
And every evening we
Have taught her in sweet trustfulness,
To bend the willing knee;
And thus we have a blessedness
Within our humble dome-
Our little, winsome, baby girl,
The angel of our home!

Such is the angel of our home,
The bright and happy one,
With hair as golden as the clouds
Around the setting sun:
Then wonder not if we should pray,
Beneath our humble dome,
That God in mercy bless always
The angel of our home!

When her father had finished reading, Mary
said to him, Why, pa, I didn't know Cordelia
was an angel. Angels have wings, have they
not, papa? Cora has no wings!"
",It is true, my dear child," said Mr. So-







-THE OLD FARM GATE. R2

merville mildly, "Cora has no wings, yet in
one sense she is an angel. Does she not make
us all very happy with her sweet little innocent
ways, and do we not feel more like loving God,
and loving each other, whenever we behold
her ?"
Harry and Mary both said that they thought
they did; and Mary said she did wish it was
morning, that she might kiss the little angel!
I ain't an angel," said Cordelia, I'm only
little Cordelia Cavender Somerville, so I am!"
", Turn over now, my little dears, and go to
sleep," said Mrs. Somerville kindly; and in a
short time the children dropped one by one
asleep.








26 THE OLD FARM GATE.






CHAPTER III.

KISSING THE LITTLE ANGEL--SECRETS--ANGEL WHISPER-
INGS--THE OMNIPRESENCE OF GOD.

IN the morning, when they awoke, Harry
and Mary both ran to the crib, and kissed the
little angel, as they now called their little sister,
and promised to be never so kind to her if she
would but love them in return; and Mary said
that as it was Sunday, she would take the little
angel to Sunday-school, so she would.
Cordelia clapped her hands with joy, to
think that she was really going to Sunday-
school, to hear the little boys and girls sing
their pretty hymns of praise to their Creator.
SJust look at her now," said Mr. Somer-
ville, whispering to Mary, does she not look
very much like an angel ?"
S"Indeed, she does, papa," said Mary, whis-







THE OLD FARMx ATB. 27

peering in return, t all but the wings. What a
pity it is she hasn't wings."
t If she had wings she might fly away from
us," said Mr. Somerville, still whispering.
"( So she might, pa, I never thought of that,"
said Mary, in the same tone. "c Oh, papa, how
glad I am now that she hasn't got wings!"
I"Pa, what are you and Mary whispering
about?" said Harry.
"t Something," said Mr. Somerville, with an
air of mysticism, isn't it Mary ?"
Harry and Cordelia now pretended that they
had a secret. between them, and kept up a great
whispering together; and Mary said that she
thought her little brother Harry ought to be a
very good boy indeed, as she just now saw a
little angel whispering in his ear-referring to
Cordelia.
Mr. and Mrs. Somerville smiled approvingly
at this happy witticism of their daughter; and
hearing the bell ring for breakfast, they rose
from their seats to go down stairs into the
dining-room, to partake of the morning's meal.







28 THE OLD FARK GATE.

When breakfast was over, Mr. Somerville
kissed his wife and children, and took his de-
parture for the Sabbath-school, while Mrs.
Somerville and the children proceeded up-
stairs, to make preparation to follow him.
This day also, like the one that had preceded
it, passed pleasantly and rapidly away, and
it was soon night again, and the children
once more in bed, waiting for their mamma,
whose turn it now was to commence reading to
them.
As it is Sabbath evening, my dear chil-
dren," said Mrs. Somerville, I think it but
proper that I should read you some chapters
in the Bible, after which, I will read you a
little poem about the Omnipresence of God."
"What does omnipresence mean, mamma?"
said Harry.
c The omnipresence of God, my dear child,"
said Mrs. Somerville, means that God is ever-
present and everywhere, at the same time."
"I cannot understand how that can be,
mamma," said Harry.







THE OLD FARM GATB. 29

Nor I either, ma," said Mary.
i" It is a great mystery, my dear children,"
said their mother, i"yet, nevertheless, it is a
sublime and solemn truth, and when you are
both.older, you will be better able to under-
stand and realize its importance; but now, my
dear children, I want you to remember, that
the eye of God is ever upon you, and that he
sees all your actions, whether good or bad, and
can read the secret thoughts of your heart,
even before they are uttered."
Mrs. Somerville then read to them from the
Bible the beautiful history of Joseph and his
Brethren, which every parent should read to
his children; after which, as she had promised,
she read to them the little poem of


THE OMNIPRESENCE OF GOD.

In the mountain-in the stream-
In the hush'd and charm'd air-
In the working of a dream-
God is everywhere!
83








.80


THE OLD FARM' GATE.

In the star that decks the sky,
Shining through the silent air;
In the cloud that saileth by-
God is everywhere!

In the lily of the field-
Or in floweret more rare-
In the perfume roses yield-
God is everywhere!

In the sunbeam, clear and bright-
In the rainbow, wond'rous fair-
In the darkness of the night-
God is everywhere!

In the gentle summer breeze-
In the rushing winter air-
In the rustling of the trees-
God is everywhere!

In the organ's solemn sound-
Or in music's lighter air-
All above-beneath-around-
God is everywhere!







THE OLD FARM GATE. 81

When Mrs. Somerville had finished reading,
she waited a few moments, to see what remarks
the children would make, but they had fallen
fast asleep; the correct rhythm of the poem,
and the slow and solemn tone of voice, with
which she had read it, combined with the fre-
quent repetition of the same idea, as in the
last line of each verse, had acted as a lullaby
upon their spirits, and soothed them into a
calm and gentle slumber.






82 THE OLD FARM GATE.






CHAPTER IV.

ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS-NATURAL FLOWERS-THE WHITE
DAISY.

IN the morning of the next day, Mrs. So-
merville said to her children, How came you,
my little dears, to go to sleep last night, while
I was reading to you?"
c Ma," said little Cordelia, "I fell asleep
when you came to the bright.' "
< And I, mamma," said Mary, fell asleep
when you came to the gentle summer breeze,
and dreamed I was in the country, eating
cherries, under a nice shady tree."
And I, mamma," said Harry, "fell asleep
when you came to the organ's solemn sound.
Oh, ma, I am so fond of music!"
Thus, in pleasant converse, which their





THB OLD PARK GATE. 88

mother took care to combine with profitable
employment, the day glided rapidly and im-
perceptibly away.
When night was come, the children were
again early in bed, anxious as ever for the
reading to commence.
Mr. Somerville, taking a roll of paper from
his pocket, and opening it, said, You see, my
dear children, those pretty artificial flowers on
the mantel, do you not? (pointing to a vase of
flowers that stood upon the mantel;) well, now,
would you believe it, your mamma made them
all with her own hands, withoutt any instruction
or assistance whatever from any one.
How delicately beautiful and natural they
are," he added; ."you may well know, when I
tell you, that very many persons, who have
lived in the country all their lives, have mis-
taken them for real flowers, even while sitting
in the room, and looking at them for hours to-
gether.
" is very fond of flowers, and in order to please


0






84 THE OLD FARM GATE.

her, as well as yourselves, I have composed a
little piece of poetry about a flower, which I
will now read to you."
"About an artifoial flower, papa?" said
Mary.
,"No, my dear," said Mr. Somerville, ",not
about an artificial, but about a natural flower,
called

THE WHITE DAISY."
There is a little, dainty flower,
That lifts it golden eye,
Without a single tinge of shame,
Unshrinking to the sky;
But yet, so sweetly free from art,
It captivates the thoughtful heart!

It glads the merry month of May,
On August smiles a cheer;
It greets the pale October day,
,"The saddest of the year-"
And still an open bosom shows
Amid the cold December snows.






THE OLD FARM GATL 35

It roams upon the mountain-top,
To catch the morning sun;
It plays about the meadows, where
The merry brooklets run;
Upon the forest solitudes
The pretty daisy's form intrudes.

And oft-times on the infant's grave,
This little flower is found;
Nor aught more fitting thus to bloom
On consecrated ground;
'Tie beautiful without pretence,
An emblem sweet of Innocence!

When Mr. Somerville had finished the piece,
he bade the children ,"good-night," and they
all laid quietly and contentedly in bed until
they fell asleep.






86 THE OLD FARM GATE.






CHAPTER V.

THE MISTAKEC-LICENSES-THE EVILS OF INTEMPERANCE
-THE CHILDREN OF THE POOR MAN.

"MA," said Harry, in the morning, t I have
been thinking about that piece of poetry that
papa composed about (The White Daisy,' and
the more I think of it, the more I think he
must have made a mistake in it."
How so, my dear?" said Mrs. Somerville.
,"Why, ma," said Harry, ,"he said,

'It plays about the meadows where
The merry brooklets run.'

Now, ma, I should like to know how a flower that
has no limbs can play. Tell me that, mamma!"
SI will, my dear," said Mrs. Somerville,
" of water, that has no limbs, can run "





THE OLD FARM GATE. 87

Harry gave it up, and said he didn't know.
"Well then, my dear," said Mrs. Somerville,
",listen and I will tell you. It is a very com-
mon expression, both in prose and poetry, to
say that water rua ; but i is not quite so
common a one to say that flowers play, and it
is, therefore, what is called a poetical license.
Your papa, in walking in the country, has seen
the pretty little daisies springing up all about
him in the green meadows, and it reminded
him of happy little children at play, and hence
the use of the expression,-

It plays about the meadows where
The merry brooklets run.'

c Ma," said Harry, c don't poets sometimes
take so many licenses that even grown people
don't know what they mean?"
"Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Somerville, they
do indeed, very often, and sometimes by so
doing, they obtain a reputation for great depth
of thought, of which in reality they are not
deserving."
4






88 THE OLD FARM GATE.

Ain't poets' licenses and tavern-keepers'
licenses two different things, ma?"' said Mary.
Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Somerville, smil-
ing, ccvery different indeed, the one being
perfectly harmless, and the other of great
injury to individuals and to the community at
large.
The tavern-keeper," she added, sells his
poison to the poor hard-working man, who be-
comes in time so fond of it, that be neglects
his business, and ceases to provide for his fa-
mily, and his poor wife and children, in conse-
quence thereof, suffer severely from poverty
and want, and are often forced to beg their
bread from door to door.
i I often pity," she said, the poor little bare-
footed children I meet with in the streets on
cold winter mornings, and feel, if I were a
man, I would not rest until the rumseller's
power to do injury to others were taken from
him. And now, while I think of it, my dear
children," said Mrs. Somerville, I wll read
you a little poem to-night about the children





THE OLD FARK GATIL. 89

of the poor man, and you will pity the poor
little creatures, I know."
<( Now, ma, now about the little bare-footed
fellows," said Harry, as he hopped into bed at
night.
" Mary, pulling the covers up over her shoulders.
Mrs. Somerville told Harry she was sorry
to hear him speak so lightly of the misfor-
tunes of others; to which Harry replied, that
he did not mean any thing by it, but that he
was so glad that his mother was going to read
to them, that he really did not think what he
said.
Mrs. Somerville told Harry she was pleased
to hear him say so, as she would be very sorry
indeed, to think that any of her dear little
children, were unfeeling and careless about the
comfort and happiness of those around them.
She then opened the book and read





40 THE OLD FARM GATI.


THE CHILDREN OF THE POOR MAN.

The children of the poor man-
Through winter's snow and sleet,
They tread the city's narrow walks,
With cold and naked feet;
Their pallid cheeks and sunken eyes
Awake my deepest sympathies!

The children of the poor man-
Mine eyes o'erflow with tears,
To know that they're compelled to give
Their young and tender years
To unremitting, ardent toil,
From which their very souls recoil!

The children of the poor man-
Through long, long years of pain,
Of sorrow, want, and misery,
Seldom if e'er complain;
But, with a patient meekness, they
Pursue their labours day by day!






TIB OLD FARM GATi. 41

The children of the poor man-
I cannot weep when they
Are by a kindly Providence
Call'd from the earth away:
A joy that will not be repressed
Springs up within my grateful breast!

The children of the poor man-
O, ye in wealth secure!
Bless with a kindly word and deed
The children of the poor;
And point them to a home above,
Where all is perfect peace and love!

4*






42 THE OLD FARM GATE.






CHAPTER VI.

MORE ABOUT POVERTY-THE FORLORN HOPE--GOOD RE-
SOLUTIONS-THANKFULNESS-GOOD NIGHT.

THE next day being beautifully clear and
pleasant, Mrs. Somerville took the children out
walking, to enjoy the benefit of the fresh air, and
on her way home, she stopped at the house of a
poor woman, the wife of a worthless, drunken
mechanic, to whom she gave her washing, and
whom she had often relieved in distress in order
that the children might see as well as hear about
the evils of intemperance. It being twelve
o'clock, the poor woman and her three little
children were at dinner. Upon a common pine
table, with no cloth to cover it, stood a single
loaf of bread and some water, which was all
that they had to eat. Mrs. Somerville asked the
woman if she had not meat for dinner sometimes.






TUB OLD FARM 4ATR. 48

"Oh ye," she replied, we generally manage
to get meat on Mondays and Thursdays, but we
cannot afford to have it oftener, and I some-
times think we shall have to do without it alto-
gether, as I can scarcely now make out to pay
my rent, and clothe myself and children; but,"
she added, her face brightening up with a smile,
"I still live in hope that my good man will
some day quit his bad ways, and join the tem-
perance society, as Mrs. Brown's husband did,
and then, oh then, we shall have enough and
to spare."
Mrs. Somerville took good care not to dis-
courage her in this hope, although she thought
to herself that there was but little probability
of so desirable an event happening, so brutally
intemperate and hardened had the poor wo-
man's husband become.
Harry now made a motion to his mother to
go home, whereupon Mrs. Somerville bade the
woman and her children good-by, and took her
departure.
When they had gota little distance from the






44 THI OLD PARK GATE.

house, Mrs. Somerville, who was walking ome
few yards ahead of Harry and Mary, turned
towards them and said-
c How came it, Harry, that you were in such
a hurry to go just now?" to which he replied,
Why, ma, I really felt so bad all the time
I was sitting there, that I thought I should have
cried. I could not bear to think that bread
and water was all the dinner that the poor wo-
man and her children had, after working so
hard through the day."
Well, my dear," said Mrs. Somerville, "tis
that all?"
" all, for if you will let me, I will save up all
the money you and pa give me for a month,
and give it to old Nancy, to help her along a
little."
And so will I, mamma," said Mary.
And so will I, ma," said little Cora.
Sc Ok! mamma, won't we have lots of money
to givi her," said Harry.
The children now began to wonder what the






TUN OLD YABM OGA. 46

poor woman would buy with the heap of money
that they intended to give her.
c" I think," said Harry, she wil buy herself
a bran new frock, instead of that old faded
and torn thing she had on the day we were
there."
cloth, and some new plates and cups and
saucers," said Mary.
,"And what does little Cora think that the
poor woman will buy with her money?" said
Mrs. Somerville to Cordelia, who sat near her,
looking very sober.
c I think she will buy a horsey-cake, ma,"
said Cordelia; I would if I was her. Oh ma,
I wish I had a horsey-cake."
Mrs. Somerville and her children had now
arrived at their own home, and were soon seated
at the dinner-table, which, though plain, was
luxuriously laden with the good things of life
when compared with that of old sanqf
While they were eating dinner, their her
told them that they ought to be very thaaful






46 THR OLD FARM GATE.

indeed, to their kind Heavenly Father, for
giving them so plentifully of all that was need-
ful in this life. And Harry said that he had
never before so plainly seen the necessity of
saying grace at table as he now did, and, that
hereafter he would never eat a meal, without
,thanking God for his goodness and mercy.
It was not long before it was again night,
and the children listening with pleasure to their
father reading a little girl's "< Good Night" to
her mamma on going to bed, which we will now
repeat, for the benefit of our youthful readers.

GOOD NIGHT.
SGood-night, dear mamma;" a little girl said,
"I am going to sleep in my nice trundle bed;
Good-night, dear papa; little brother and sis!"
And to each one the innocent gave a sweet kiss:
Good-night, little darling," her fond mother said-
"But remember, before you lie down in your bed,
With a heart full of love, and a tone soft and mild,
To lathe a short prayer to Heaven, sweet child."
Olf dear mamma;" said the child with a nod,
"I iaw oh! I love to say 'Good-night' to God!"



































fie

kv 2





4i,




























i ki


44






THa OLD FARM GATI. 47

Kneeling down, My dear Father in Heaven," she said,
* I thank Thee for giving me this nice little bed;
For though mamma told me, she bought it for me,
She tells me that every thing good comes from Thee;
I thank Thee for keeping me safe through the day;
I thank Thee for teaching me, too, how to pray;"
Then bending her sweet little head with a nod,
"Good-night my dear Father, my Maker, and God;
Should I never again on the earth ope mine eyes,
I pray Thee to give me a home in the skies "

'Twas an exquisite sight, as she meekly knelt there,
With her eyes raised to Heaven, her hands clasped in
prayer,
And I thought of the time, when the Saviour in love
Said, "Of such is the kingdom of Heaven above;"
And I inwardly prayed, that my own heart the while,
Might be cleansed of its bitterness, freed from its guile!
Then she crept into bed, that beautiful child,
And was soon lost in slumber so calm and so mild,
That we listened in vain for the sound of her breath,
As she lay in the arms of the emblem of death!


"Oh papa," said Mary, what a good little
girl that must have been, and how her parents
must have loved her, too; did they not, papa?"






48 THE OLD FARM GATE.

"Indeed they did, my dear," said Mr. So-
merville, and so does every body love a good
little pious child. Now lay still," he said, c and
go to sleep, and to-morrow night, should no-
thing happen to prevent it, your mamma will
again read to you, and tell you why it was that
the little girl loved her mother so dearly."
The children quietly obeyed him, and, with
the exception of Mary, were soon fast asleep.
She was evidently dreaming about the good
little girl, for she every now and then mur-
mured in her sleep part of what her papa had
been reading to them:

"Good-night dear mamma, little brother and sis,"

she murmured, and again,

I love, oh I I love to say Good-night' to God 1"






WM OLD WARM GATL


CHAPTER VII.

ALL ABOUT LOVE-LOIV THY MOTHER, LITTL ONX-DO
I LOVE THIE?
IN the morning, Mary said to her papa that
she had been trying to think, last night, before
she fell asleep, which she loved the most, her
papa or her mamma.
Well, and what conclusion did you come to
at last, my dear?" said Mr. Somerville.
Why, pa, for a long time," said Mary, I
could not tell which I loved the most, mamma
or yourself, you are both so good and so
kind to me; but after a while, papa, I rather
thought I loved ma the most, though I love
you dearly, very dearly, papa," she added,
" and you won't be jealous now, will you?"
she said, throwing her arms around his neck
and kissing him.
6


4Q






60 THE OLD FARM GATE.

Mr. Somerville gently disengaged her arms
from his neck, and said to her-
S"No, my dear child, I will not be jealous,
nor do I wonder at your loving your mamma
so tenderly and devotedly, for often, when I
look at her myself, and see how patiently she
waits upon you all, and how unmurmuringly
she attends to her many and trying duties
throughout the day, I feel very happy indeed,
and inwardly thank my God, that He has
given me so good a wife, and you, my dear
children, so kind a mother."
Mrs. Somerville here approached her hus-
band, and taking his hand in her own, said to
him-
And do you then really love me so much,
William?" to which her husband replied by
quoting to her the following little poem.






THB OLD FARM GAT.



DO I LOVE THEE?

Do I love thee? Ask the flower,
If it love the pearly tear,
That, at evening's quiet hour,
Falleth, soft and clear,
Its gentle form to bless ?
If, perchance, it answer ,"Yes!"
Answer thee sincerely-
Then I love with earnestness,
Then I love thee dearly!

Do I love thee ? Ask the child,
If it love its mother dear?
If it love her accents mild?
Love her fond, sincere,
Tender and warm caress ?
If, perchance, it answer " Answer thee sincerely-
Then I love with earnestness,
Then I love thee dearly!


61





:42 THE OLD PARM &ATU.

Do I love thee? Ay! I love thee
Better far than words can tell;
All around and all above me
Lives a charmMd spell,
My spirit sad to bless!
Then I fondly answer -Yes "
Answer thee sincerely-
That I love with earnestness,
That I love thee dearly!


In the evening, Mrs. Somerville said to the
children, that the reason the good little girl,
about whom their papa had read to them last
night, loved her mother so much, was that her
father was a poet, like their own dear papa,
and that he had taught his little daughter to
love her mother sincerely and devotedly, by
frequently composing and addressing to her
such little poems as the following. Here Mrs.
Somerville opened a book and read from it a
poem, which we hope every one of our youthful
readers will remember and put in practice.






THE OLD .Ax eGATl. a




LOVE THY MOTHER, LITTLE ONE.

Love thy mother, little one,
Love her tenderly;
Clasp thy little arms around her,
For a holy tie hath bound her--
Bound her close to thee!
Love thy mother, little one,
Love her tenderly!

Love thy mother, little one,
Love her earnestly;
Gaze into her eyes, and see there-
All that thou could'st hope to be there-
Warmest love for thee!
Love thy mother, little one,
Love her earnestly!

Love thy mother, little one,
Love her fervently;
65






54 THE OLD FARM GATE.

By thy couch she kneeleth nightly,
And, with hands enclaspbd tightly,
Prayeth, love, for thee!
Love thy mother, little one,
Love her fervently!

Love thy mother, little one,
Love her tenderly;
Clasp thy little arms around her,
For a holy tie hath bound her-
Bound Jer close to thee!
Love thy mother, little one,
Love her tenderly!


Mamma," said Cordelia, when her mother
had concluded, to-morrow morning I'm going
to hug you, and kiss you, and gaze into your
eyes, and do every thing in the world to you,
to prove how dearly I love you."
i I know very well that you love me very
tenderly, my dear little Cora," said Mrs. So-
merville, without your doing that."






THE OLD FARK GATX. 55

"And you know I love you, don't you ma?"
said Harry.
And you know I love you, too, don't you,
mamma?" said Mary.
Yes, my dear children," said Mrs. Somer-
ville, "I know you all love me; so now go to
sleep; goodLnight."
Good-night, mamma! good-night, papa!"
said the children, as they turned over in bed
to obey their mother.





66 THB OLD PARK GATEI






CHAPTER VIII.

SOMETHING ABOUT DEATH--JOY AND SORROW-THE
LITTLE BOY THAT DIED.

ON looking out of the window the next
morning; the children saw a carriage, drawn
by two black horses, pass by the house, with a
little mahogany coffin in it, and three or four
more carriages following close behind, and
they called to their mother to make haste and
come and look at it.
Mrs. Somerville laid down her sewing, and
getting up and coming towards the window,
said,-
I guess it is the funeral of little James
Harrison, who died the other day. Yes it is,"
she added, on looking at the carriages and
seeing Mr. and Mrs. Harrison in the one with
the coffin in it.






TRE LD PAXB GATI. 57

SOh, do tell us all about it ma," said the chil-
dren, gathering eagerly around their mother.
,, Well, then, my dear children," said Mrs.
Somerville, after she had resumed her seat
again and taken up her sewing, ,I saw the
superintendent of your Sabbath-school a few
days ago, and he informed me that he was then
on his way home from Mrs. Harrison's house,
where he had been on a visit-in his official ca-
pacity, and where he had arrived just in time
to see little Jamie Harrison breathe out his
last sad breath in his dear mother's arms, and
that he had but then left Mrs. Harrison, on
her knees at the bedside of her departed child,
weeping sorrowfully and thanking God, by
turns, that he had taken her little boy away."
Why, ma," said Mary, how could she do
that I don't think she could have loved him
very much; do you, ma t"
Yes, my dear," s6ad Mrs. Somerville, ushe
loved him very much indeed, and it was for
this reason that she was glad that her little
boy was dead, for she now knew that he wa





58 THE OLD FARM GATE.

free from pain, and that he was a beautiful
little angel in heaven."
",But why should she be glad that he was
dead, mamma?" said Harry; I cannot under-
stand that."
"< Because, my dear," said his mother, c for
the last two or three years little Jamie Harri-
son has been in bed, suffering dreadfully from
disease and pain, caused by injuring his spine
in falling down stairs, when he was just able
to crawl about upon the floor; and his poor
mother has been sitting beside his bed, when-
ever she could spare the time, wiping the damp-
ness from his forehead and the moisture from
his eyes, and kissing his little cheeks, and-"
Oh, mamma, don't tell us any more about it
now, it makes me feel so sorry," said little Cor-
delia, her eyes filling with tears of sympathy.
"Very well," said Mrs. Somerville, ,t I will
not say any more about it now, but to-night I
will get your papa to read you a little piece in
the paper about another little boy that died
and went to heaven."






THE OLD FARM GATE. 59

Oh, do, ma," said Harry and Mary; that's
a good dear mamma, don't forget it, we should
so like to hear it."
When night was come, the children reminded
their mother of her promise, and Mr. Somer-
ville, taking up a weekly paper that lay upon
the table near him, read from it a beautiful
little poem, called

THE LITTLE BOY THAT DIED.

BY T. D. nOBIISON.

I am alone in my chamber now,
And the midnight hour is near;
And the fagot's crack, and the clock's dull tick,
Are the only sounds I hear;
And over my soul in its solitude,
Sweet feelings of sadness glide;
For my heart and my eyes are full when I think
Of- the little boy that died.

I went one night to my father's house-
Went home to the dear ones all,
And softly I opened the garden gate,
And softly the door of the hall;






108 OLD FARM GATB.

My mother eme out to meet her son-
She kiss'd me and then she sigh'd,
And her head fell on my neck, and she wept
For the little boy that died.

I shall miss him when the flowers come,
In the garden where he played;
I shall miss him more by the fireside,
When the flowers have all decay'd.
I shall see his toys and his empty chair,
And the horse he used to ride,
And they will speak with silent speech,
Of the little boy that died.

I shall see his little sister too,
With her playmates about the door,
And I'll watch the children in their sports,
As I never did before.
And if in the group, I see a child
That's dimpled, and laughing-eyed,
Ill look and see if it may not be
The little boy that died.

We shall go to our Father's house-a-
To our Father's home in the skies,
Where the hopes of our souls have no blight,
Our love no broken ties;






.THr (ILD AIN GATY. UW
We shall r6m o the bakWt e the ivewr of Peace,
And bath in its blisaful tide;
And one of the joys of our Heaven shall be-
The little boy that died!

c Oh, mamma, ain't that pretty?" said Cor-
delia. uMa, I wish some other little boy would
die that you might read to us about him,
too."
I feel sorry," said Mrs. Somerville to her
daughter, looking very grave, that Cordelia
should wish any one to die. I cannot love my
little Cora if she talks so !"
Oh, ma, I don't mean to die real, I only
mean to pretend, mamma!"
You mean, I guess, my dear child," said
Mrs. Somerville, speaking mere kindly, that
if any other little boy should happen to die,
you would like to hear a pretty piece about
him. Isn't that what you mean, my little
dear ?"
Oh, yes, ma; that is jst what I mean,"
said Cordelia.
SVery well, my little Cora, there is no harm






62 THE OLD FARM GATE.

-in that; and to-morrow night, should my life
be spared, I will read to you about a little girl
tkat died."
Ma," said Harry, I don't think it will
be as pretty a piece as the one about the little
boy. That is beautiful, mamma, and I never
shall forget one verse of it as long as I live."
Here he repeated the lines-

'I went one night to my father's house-
Went home to &he dear ones all,
And softly I opened the garden gate,
And softly the door of the hall;
My mother came out to meet her son-
She kiss'd me and then she sigh'd,
And her head fell on my neck, and she wept
For the little boy that died."

"Could any thing be more beautiful than
that, mamma ?" said Harry, almost crying.
It is very beautiful, indeed, my dear child,"
said Mrs. Somerville, and very natural, too;
and I do not wonder at your being affected by
it, for I remember well when I myself first






THE OLD FAIX GATB. 68

read it the tears would come into my eyes, in
spite of all I could do to prevent them; but
now go to sleep," she said, like good little
children, and to-morrow night will soon be
here."





04 THB OLD FARM GATI.






CHAPTER IX.

MORE ABOUT DEATH-THE GRAVE-THE HOUSEHOLD
DIRGE-ANOTHER POETICAL LICENSE.

"MA," said Harry, the next morning, was
the little girl you are going to read about to-
night, sick long ?"
SMa, did she suffer much?" said Mary.
Ma, let's pretend she didn't suffer much,"
said Cordelia; "I don't like to hear about little
boys and girls suffering much."
I suppose I must answer you all at once, my
dear children," said Mrs. Somerville, kindly.
"c Well, then," she added, i" the little girl was
only sick three days, and she did not suffer
much, and talked very sweetly just before she
died about going to her Father in heaven, and
being with the angels, and telling her dear fa-
ther and mother to meet her there by and by."





THE OLD PARM GATE. 65

Every now and then, throughout the day,
Harry might be beard repeating to himself
some of the lines of t The Little Boy That
Died." While Mary seemed as equally pleased
with it as he, and would repeat the words
after him, line for line. As for Cordelia, she
seemed to think that ",Love Thy Mother,
Little One," was, to use her own words, "a
great deal the prettiest piece !"
When the children were undressing for bed,
at night, Mary said to her mother,
<( Oh, mamma, I do hope that's a pretty
piece that you are going to read to us to-night
about the little girl."
It is, my dear," said Mrs. Somerville,
< equally as pretty a piece as the one about
the little boy; and it was composed by one
of the most promising young poets of our
own country. So make haste now to get into
bed, and you shall hear it and judge for your-
selves."
Ma, I can't untie this knot in my shoe*
string," said Harry.
6*





66 THE OLD FARM GATE.

*" Ma, I can't find my night-cap," said
Mary.
t Oh, ma," said Harry, let me go to bed
with my shoe on to-night, it won't make much
difference, ma."
Mrs. Somerville told the children, that she
did not mean when she told them to make
haste and undress, that they should be in so
great a hurry as not to know what they were
doing, but that she meant that they should
undress at once and not stop to talk and
play while they were so doing. She then as-
sisted them, and in a little while they were
in bed, waiting for their mamma to commence
reading.
Now, ma," said Cordelia, "now we are all
as still as little mice; now begin, mamma."
Their mother then read to them, from a book
of poems, the following touching and exqui-
sitely beautiful lines.






87


THE OLD FARM GATE.



THE HOUSEHOLD DIRGE.

BY R. H. 8TODDARD.

I've lost my little May at last,
She perished in the spring,
When earliest flowers began to bud,
And earliest birds to sing.
I laid her in a country grave,
A green and soft retreat,
A marble tablet o'er her head,
And violets at her feet.


I would that she were back again,
In all her childish bloom;
My joy and hope have followed her,
My heart is in her tomb.
I know that she is gone away,
I know that she is fled,
I miss her everywhere, and yet
I cannot make her dead.






a8 THE OLD FARM GATE.

I wake the children up at dawn,
And say a simple prayer,
And draw them round their morning meal,
But one is wanting there.
I set a little chair apart,
A little pinafore,
And memory fills the vacancy,
As time will never more.


I sit within my quiet room
Alone, and write for hours,
And miss the little maid again
Among the window flowers;
And miss her with her toys beside
My desk in silent play,
And then I turn and look for her,
But she has flown away.


I drop my idle pen, and hark
To catch the slightest sound-
She must be playing hide and seek
In shady nooks around.





THB OLD FARM GATE.

She'll come and climb my chair again,
And peep my shoulder o'er--
I hear a stifled laugh-but no,
She cometh never more!

I waited only yesternight,
The evening service read,
And linger'd for my idol's kiss
Before she went to bed;
Forgetting she had gone before
In slumber soft and sweet,
A monument above her head,
And violets at her feet.


"Oh, ma, I like that piece a great deal
better than the one about the little boy," said
Mary.
1< I don't, ma," said Harry; cc I like the one
about the little boy the best."
i Which does little Cera like the best?" said
Mrs. Somerville, appealing to her youngest
child.






70 THE OLD FARM GATE.

I like 'em both best, ma," said Cordelia.
"Ma," said Mary, "what does the little
girl's papa mean by saying,
My heart is in her tomb T'
He don't mean that he actually buried his heart
in the grave of his little daughter; does he,
mamma?"
No, my dear, he does not mean that in
reality, but he means that he loved his little
girl very dearly indeed while she was living,
and now that she is dead and gone, he is al-
ways thinking about her."
Oh yes, ma," said Mary, "I understand it
now, it's what you call a poetical license, to say
'My heart is in her tomb;'
ain't it, ma?"
i" Yes, my dear, it is," replied her mother.
Ma," said Cordelia, you and pa have
read us so much about every thing already,
that you won't have any more to read to us
about to-morrow night."
Your papa, my dear child," said her mo-





THE OLD PARM GATES. 71

their, i"will try to find something to interest
you, if you go to sleep now like good little
children. So, now Good-night, mamma; good-night, papa,"
said the children, as they turned over in bed
to go to sleep.






72 THE OLD PARM GATE.






CHAPTER X.

COURTSHIP-MARRIAGE-THE COUNTRY LASSIE AND HER
MOTHER.

"MA," said Harry, in the morning, "I'm
just like Cordelia, and can't see what papa is
going to read to us about to-night. You both
together, have read to us about music, and
flowers, and angels, and love, and death, and
heaven, and almost every thing that's pretty,
mamma, and I can't think of any thing else
that would be nice."
t And can't you think of any thing else that
would be nice, Mary?" said her mother.
"cNo, ma, I cannot," said Mary.
,I can! I can!" said Cordelia eagerly.
<< Well, my little Cora," said Mrs. Somerville,
what do you think papa could read about that
would be nice?"






TEZ OLD FARM GATE. 8

"Ham and eggs, ma," said Cordelia.
Harry was just at this time taking a drink
of water from a ladle, and, on hearing his 'little
sister's answer, he thought it was so funny, that
he could not contain himself for laughter, and
had liked to have choked himself to death, in
attempting to swallbw the water too quickly.
After he had recovered himself somewhat,
Mrs. Somerville said to Cordelia,
" ham and eggs are so very nice?"
,"Yes, indeed I do," said Cordelia; ,"and
there is only one thing nicer than that in the
world."
,"And what is that, my dear?" said her
mother.
c" Bread and molasses, ma," said Cordelia.
c" But, ma," said Mary, you haven't told us
yet what papa is going to read to us about to-
night."
c" Well, then, my dear child," said her mother,
" courtship."






74 THE OLD FARM GATE.

delia.
It was now Mary's turn to laugh, which she
did most heartily.
",Ma," said Cordelia, beginning to pout her
lips, Harry and Mary are always laughing at
me, so they are. Won't you make 'em stop,
ma?"
Mrs. Somerville soon quieted her little one,
and diverted her attention by explaining to her
in a simple manner the meaning of the word
courtship, by telling her how her papa, a good
many years ago, had courted and married her-
self, and how glad they both now were, that
they had ever met each other.
",But, ma," said Mary, papaa ain't going to
read to us about your courtship, is he?"
No, my dear," said her mother, mine, but about somebody else's courtship; but
night will soon be here," she added, and that
will be time enough for you to hear it."
t Ma," said Harry, ( I'm going to have Susan
Campbell for my girl, and when I grow up to





THE OLD PARX GATE. 74

be a man, I'm going to make her my wife, and
live in a big three-story house with her."
,"Very well, my dear," said his mother, "I
am willing that you should have her, and will
readily give my consent to the match, and so
will your papa, I know, for Susan is a very
amiable and obedient child, and I feel that I
could love her very much as a daughter-in-law.
But how do you know ehe will have you, Harry,
have you ever asked her?"
c Oh, yes mamma, very often," said Harry,
blushing a little, c"and she says that she will
have me if I will let her mother live with her,
which I have promised to do."
See there now," said his mother, "does not
that go to prove how good a girl she is? for
she is not willing to part with her poor widowed
mother, even for the sake of a kind and affec-
tionate husband."
"cAnd who are you going to marry, Mary,
when you grow up?" said Mrs. Somerville.
"cPercival Lee, ma," said Mary, i"he is a
good boy, is he not?"







76 THE OLD FARM GAT.

,,Yes, I believe so, my dear," said her mo-
ther, smiling approvingly.
And who will little Cora marry, when she
grows up to be a big woman?" said Mrs. So-
merville.
ccI will marry papa, ma," said Cordelia. "I
think he is nicer than all the other men put
together."
,"But you can't have your papa, my dear,"
said her mother, he is my husband, and it is not
lawful, you know, for a man to have two wives."
Well, then, ma, I won't marry at all, that's
all, and I'll he a widow all my life, so I will,"
said Cordelia.
Harry and Mary laughed, and said they
thought that was a funny way of being a widow;
whereupon, Mrs. Somerville explained to Cor-
delia what it was to be a widow, and said she
hoped that so unfortunate an event might not
happen to either of her dear daughters early
#in life, but that they might both live long and
happily with the husbands of their choice, and
die but to be re-united in heaven.





THE 014) PAR GATU 77

"tNow, papa, now read us the piece about
courtship," said the ebildren, as they eagerly
sprang into bed at pight.
Mr. Somerville then opened a book of his
own poems, and read to them the highly
amusing, but truthful poem,


THE COUNTRY LASSIE AND HER MOTHER.

To-morrow, ma, I'm sweet sixteen,
And Billy Grimes, the drover,
Has popp'd the question' to me, ma,
And wants to be my lover 1
To-morrow morn, he says, mamma,
He's coming hpre quite early,
To take a pleasant walk with me
Across the field of barley."


You must not go, my daughter dear,
There's no use now a-talking;
You shall not go across the field
With Billy Grimes a-walking:
7*






78 THE OLD FARM GATE.

To think of his presumption, too,
The dirty, ugly drover!
I wonder where your pride has gone,
To think of such a rover !"


"'Old Grimes is dead,' you know, mamma,
And Billy is so lonely!
Besides, they say, of Grimes' estate,
That Billy is the only
Surviving heir to all that's left;
And that they say is nearly
A good ten thousand dollars, ma,-
About six hundred yearly!"


I did not hear, my daughter dear,
Your last remark quite clearly;
But Billy is a clever lad,
And no doubt loves you dearly!
Remember, then, to-morrow morn,
To be up bright and early,
To take a pleasant walk with him
% Across the field of barley."






THN OLD- IARM GATE. 79

finished reading, " was a pretty cunning old woman, wasn't she?"
< Yes, my dear," replied Mr. Somerville,
",she was what the world calls cute, that is,
constantly and selfishly on the look out for her
own interest. She had quite a mean opinion
of Billy Grimes, as a husband for her daugh-
ter, until she ascertained that he was rich in
houses and lands, which had been left to him
by his father, when she suddenly changed her
views, and had quite a golden opinion of him.
But in this respect, I fear she was too much
like a good many other foolish mothers, that
I know of at the present time, who seem to
think but little about the moral character or
position in society, of those whom their children
are to marry, provided they be but rich in this
world's goods.
,I know of a case in point, my dear," he
said, turning towards his wife, who sat beside
him. A couple, whose names I will not now
mention, and who live but a short distance






80 THE OLD FARM GA!.T

from us, are about to force their daughter to
marry a man of almost double her own age,
notwithstanding all her entreaties to the con-
trary, merely because he is wealthy; knowing
too, full well, that her heart has long been
given to a very worthy young man, a teacher in
one of our boarding-schools not far from the
city, fully competent to support himself and a
wife, and be enabled besides to save a little
something every year out of his salary, to fall
back upon in case of sickness or other misfor-
tune. I should not at all wonder," he added,
" to heat of some awful calamity being visited
upon them, as a punishment for their extreme
wickedness and folly."
It is indeed too bad," said Mrs. Somerville;
and I hope, my dear, that we never will be
guilty of so great an enormity. But, we are
keeping the children awake," she said, "by
talking aloud, and it is high time they were
fast asleep."






TUE OLD WARM GATE. 81






CHAPTER XI.

WINTER IS CONING-WILLIE AND THE BIRDS--AITH--
THE BALLAD OF THE TEMPEST.

OH, ma, I'm so sorry winter is coming,"
said Harry, the next morning, on coming in
from the garden, where Mary and himself had
been amusing themselves by playing grace-
hoops, the sharp air and the falling leaves re-
minding him of the coming winter.
,"Why so, my dear?" said his mother.
c Because, ma," he replied, you know there
are no pretty birds nor flowers, nor any nice
peaches nor apricots in winter."
c" It is true, my dear child," said his mother,
" that there are no birds nor flowers, nor any
of the delicate fruits you mention, in winter,
but there are a great many other blessings be-
stowed upon us then to make amends for the





9 THE OLD PARM GATI.

loss of these things, but even if there were not,"
she added, "you should always endeavour to
remember, my dear child, that the times and
seasons are appointed by God, and that 'He
who doeth all things well,' is too wise to err
therein.
Have you sufficient faith in God, to believe
this, Harry?" she said.
Yes! my dear mamma," replied Harry,
"I have, and you-shall never more hear me
complain of the seasons, nor of any thing else,
over which my Heavenly Father has the su-
preme and entire control."
Ma, what do .you mean by having faith in
God? What is faith, mamma?" said Mary..
Faith in God, my dear child," said Mrs.
Somerville, "is to believe that God does every
thing from the best motives, that He loves the
creatures of his hands, and is ever ready to
promote their happiness and well-being, both in
time and in eternity. If we fully believe this,
we cannot help but love him, and if we love
him, we will naturally obey him, and do only





THU OLED lARK GATE. B

that which is right, and eschew that whih is
wrong."
SOh, yes, I understand now, ma," said Mary.
", To have faith in God, means to love him as
I do you and papa, and to obey him not from
fear of punishment, but because I know it will
give him pleasure, just as I often think to my-
self now, I will not do so and so, because I
know papa and mamma will not like it."
Before Mrs. Somerville could make a reply
to this, Harry came bounding towards her, ex-
claiming with pleasure,
"Oh, ma, I've found such a beautiful piece
of poetry on the carpet, shall I read it to you,
mamma?"
Yes, if you please, my dear child," said his
mother; and now, it may be as well to tell
you, that after to-morrow night, your papa and
myself have concluded not to read any more
to you at night. It seems that we have effected
the object at which we aimed, which was to
foster in your minds a taste for useful reading
and instruction. And now that we have done





84 THE OLD PARK GATE.

that, Harry," she added, < we think it but right
that you should read to your little sisters, and
endeavour to teach them to read. But go on
now," she said, and read the piece of poetry
you have found, for I should like to hear it
very much."
Harry then stood beside his mother and
read to her in a slow, distinct voice, the little
poem which follows.


WILLIE AND THE BIRDS.

(ANOMYMOUs.)

A little black-eyed boy of five,
Thus spake to his mamma-
I)Do look at all the pretty birds;
How beautiful they are!
How smooth and glossy are their wings--
How beautiful their hue!
Besides, mamma, I really think,
That they are pious, too!"





















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Ysie
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4~
I~\*




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i;


13~, ai
;. ..,








1.-.
il'
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r)i
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is;:

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THE OLD PAIM GATe. 85

And scarce suppress'd a smile-
The answer show'd a thoughtful head,
A heart quite free from guile.
" His tiny bill to wet,
To lift a thankful glance above
He never does forget:
And so, mamma, it seems to me,
That very pious they must be."

Dear child, I would a lesson learn
From this sweet thought of thine,
And heavenward with a glad heart, turn
These earth-bound eyes of mine:
Perfected praise, indeed is given,
By babes below, to God in heaven!


"Isn't it pretty, ma?" said Harry, when he
had concluded.
"It is indeed, very pretty, my dear," said
his mother, "cand I would like you to save it
8






86 THE OLD FARM GATE.

for papa, to paste in his scrap-book, if you will
do so."
Oh, yes, papa shall have it, ms," said
Harry, "I only wish I had a hundred as pretty
one to give him. I do wonder where it could
have come from."
" morning, you know, Harry," said his mother,
and some one among them may have dropped
it on the carpet in going out; and now that I
think of it, it is but right that we should take
good care of it, so that if any of them should
happen to miss it, we may return it to them
safe and sound." She then rose from her seat,
and taking a key from her pocket, she opened
a little drawer in the dressing-bureau, and put
it safely away among her little articles of
value.
In the evening, Mrs. Somerville, wishing
more fully and forcibly to impress upon the
minds of her children a just and true idea of
faith, read to them the following admirable
poem.





THE OLD FARM GATE.


BALLAD OF THE TEMPEST.

BY JAMX8 T. FIELDS.

We were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul would dare to sleep-
It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.

'Tis a fearful thing in winter
To be shattered in the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet
Thunder, i" Cut away the mast!"

So we shudder'd there in silence-
For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,
And the breakers talk'd with Death.

As thus we sat in darkness,
Each one busy in his prayers-
ccWe are lost!" the captain shouted,
As he staggered down the stairs.





88 THE OLD FARM GATE.

But his little daughter whisper'd,
As she took his icy hand,
SIsn't God upon the ocean,
Just the same as on the land?"

Then we kiss'd the little maiden,
And we spoke in better cheer,
And we anchored safe in harbour
When the morn was shining clear.






THE OLD FARM GATE. 89








CHAPTER XII.

CONTENTMENT AND PEACE-GENTLE WORDS-THE CHILD
AND THE MOURNERS-THE PEBBLE AND THE ACORN.

AT last the morning of the day arrived, the
evening of which was to close the readings of
Mr. and Mrs. Somerville, and the children im-
mediately after breakfast gathered around
their father, whose turn it was to read in the
evening, eager to know what he would be likely
to select.
"cPapa," said Harry, " last night of the readings, you must select
something very beautiful."
i Oh yes, papa," said Mary, something
very, very beautiful and nice."
Oh yes, papa," said Cordelia, < something
as nice as ham and eggs."
8*






90 THE OLD FARM GATE.

Mr. Somerville smiled, and taking up his hat,
he took his departure for the store, saying, as
he went out, that he would read to them as
many as three beautiful pieces in the evening,
one for each of his dear little children.
c Thank you, thank you, papa. Oh, what a
kind, good, dear papa!" said the children, as
they capered about the room, unable to con-
tain themselves for joy.
The most of the day was spent by Harry in
reading aloud to his little sisters, as his mother
had suggested; Mary quietly sitting beside
him, employed in hemming a pocket-handker-
chief, which her mother had given her to learn
upon; while Cordelia, with a picture-book,
turned upside down in her hands, was pre-
tending to read from it in a whisper, every
now and then looking up into her mother's
face, to catch the tender glance of approval,
with which she knew she would be greeted.
Happy scene! happy family! contentment
and peace-no wrangling-no jarring-no dis-
cord--all quiet-all loving-all beloved.





TfiB OLbD XRE OATLE

Ye, whose otherwise bl be~es are made
unhappy by the noisy. dis~otent of its little
ones, try ye this simple remedy for the evil,
and believe me it will act like a charm. Put
into the hands of your children, at an early
age, books of useful reading and instruction,
embellished if need be, not with roaring lions,
wild cats, and fierce dogs, but with quiet,
happy scenes of home pleasures and fireside
joys, and with reading of solid instruction,
occasionally intermingle that of refined poetry,
and ye will do much towards enlightening the
minds, and purifying the hearts of your little
immortals, and when ye shall have passed away
forever from the busy scenes of earth, "your
children shall rise up and call you blessed."
But I am straying from my subject. Again
it is night, and again three little innocent faces
are peering up from under the pure white
coverlets, like violets peeping through the
snow, and again their sweet little voices are
heard in earnest entreaty for more pretty
reading, as they termed it.






92 THE OLD PARK GATE.

SPapa," said Harry, you must read us a
good long piece to-night. It is the last night,
you know, papa."
"Oh yes, do, papa," said Mary, ",read us
three good long pieces, you know you promised
us three, papa."
,"Oh yes, three, three, thirty-three, papa,"
said Cordelia, clapping her hands with pleasure.
When quiet was again restored, Mr. Somer-
ville said to them-
,I will, as I have promised, read you three
pieces to-night, my dear children, one for each
of you. And now Harry," he said, I have
chosen for you the following little piece, not
that I think you need reproving for harsh
speaking, for I have noticed with pleasure,
your kind and generous treatment of your
little sisters at home, as well as your good be-
haviour abroad, and I honour and esteem you
for it, my son, and hope it will ever be so with
you throughout life."
His father then read to him the little poem
that follows.





THE OLD FAUM GAT. 98



GENTLE WORDS.

(AoN0rxom.)

A young rose in summer time
Is beautiful to me,
And glorious the many stars
That glimmer on the sea:
But gentle words, and loving hearts,
And hands to clasp my own,
Are better than the fairest flowers
Or stars that ever shone.

The sun may warm the germ to life,
The dew, the drooping flower,
And eyes grow bright that watch the light-
Of autumn's opening hour-
But words that breathe of tenderness,
And smiles we know are true,
Are warmer than the summer time,
And brighter than the dew.






94] THE OLD 1ARM GATE.

It is not much the world can give
With all its subtle art,
And gold and gets are not the things
To satisfy the heart;
But oh, if those who cluster round
The altar and-the hearth
Have gentle words and loving smiles,
How beautiful is earth!

When his father had concluded, Harry
thanked him, and said he thought his piece
was a very pretty one indeed. " papa," he said, ",let us hear Mary's piece."
Mr. Somerville then read to Mary-


THE CHILD AND THE MOURNERS.

BY CHABLES MACKAY.

A little child beneath a tree,
Sat and chanted cheerily
A little song, a pleasant song,
Which was-she sang it all day long-





TRB OLD FARM GATE. 4

" When the wind blows, the blossoms fall;
But a good God reigns over all."

There pass'd a lady by the way,
Moaning in the face of day:
There were tears upon her cheek,
Grief in her heart too sad to speak;
Her husband died but yester-morn,
And left her in the world forlorn.

She stopped and listened to the child,
That look'd to heaven, and, singing, smiled;
And saw not for her own despair,
Another lady young and fair,
Who also passing, stopped to hear,
The infant's anthem ringing clear.

For she, but a few sad days before,
Had lost the little babe she bore;
And grief was heavy at her soul,
As that sweet memory o'er her stole,
And show'd how bright had been the Past,
The Present drear and overcast.





96& THE OLD FARM GATb.

And as they stood beneath the tree
Listening, soothed and placidly,
A youth came by, whose sunken eyes
Spake of a load of miseries;
And he, arrested like the twain,
Stopp'd to listen to the strain.

Death had bow'd the youthful head
Of his bride beloved, his bride unwed:
Her marriage robes were fitted on,
Her fair young face with blushes shone,
When the destroyer smote her low,
And changed the lover's bliss to woe.

And these three listened to the song,
Silver-toned, and sweet, and strong,
Which that child, the livelong day,
Chanted to itself in play:
SWhen the wind blows, the blossoms fall;
But a good God reigns over all."

The widow's lips impulsive moved,
The mother's grief, though unreproved,




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