And the parents had dressed the pale, still child,
For her flight to the summer land,
In a fair white robe, with one snow white rose
Folded tight in her pulseless hand.
And now at the foot of the ladder they sit,
Looking upward with quiet tears,
Till the beckoning hand and the fluttering robe
Of the child at the top appears.
_Mrs. L. M. Blinn._
* * * * *
"GOOD-BYE."
Did you ever hear two married women take leave of each other at the gate on
a mild evening? This is how they do it:--"Good-bye!" "Good-bye! Come down
and see us soon." "I will. Good-bye." "Good-bye! Don't forget to come
soon." "No, I won't. Don't you forget to come up." "I won't. Be sure and
bring Sarah Jane with you the next time." "I will. I'd have brought her
this time, but she wasn't very well. She wanted to come awfully." "Did she
now? That was too bad! Be sure and bring her next time." "I will; and you
be sure and bring baby." "I will; I forgot to tell you that he's cut
another tooth.
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