" A pause--then a
sob--and the voice wailing rather than singing:
Other refuge have I none,
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;
Leave, oh, leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me.
All my trust on Thee is stayed,
All my help from Thee I bring,
Cover my defenceless head,
With the shadow of Thy wing.
The boy grasped my hand a moment--gasped out "That's Jessie's mother,
something's happened"--and then bounded up the stairs and into the
room. I followed him and found sure enough something had happened, for
Jessie had gone to the land of pure delight, and the mother stood
weeping beside her dead. On the face of Jessie lingered a smile, for
she was well at last. In her hand was a pure white rosebud, the last
flower Joe had carried to her the evening before. Her last message to
him was that she had gone to the land of pure delight, and for him to
be sure and follow her there.
I draw the curtain over the boy's grief. His savings bought the coffin
in which Jessie was laid under the green sod.
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