Part 3 (2/2)

They had a large garden at the farm-house, and f.a.n.n.y and Mrs. Newton improved it; and Mrs. Newton would walk out, leaning on f.a.n.n.y's arm, and look at the lilies and roses, and jessamine, and mignonette, and talk of past times, and of their first garden, and their first flowers, and of their first knowledge of the G.o.d who made them; who watches the opening bud, and the infant head; who sends his rain upon the plant, and the dew of his blessing upon the child who is taught to know and love Him. And f.a.n.n.y's father, when he joined them, talked over his trials and dangers from the day that his poor wife lay dead, and his helpless baby lay in his arms, and then he blessed the G.o.d who had led him all his life long, and crowned him with loving- kindness.

Three years pa.s.sed, and f.a.n.n.y, the little flower-girl, was a fine young woman. A farmer's son in the neighborhood wished to get her for his wife; but her father was very sorry to think of her leaving him so soon for another home.

He spoke to f.a.n.n.y about it, and said,--”My dear girl, I have no right to expect you should wish to stay with me, for I never was able to watch over your childhood or to act a father's part by you.”

And f.a.n.n.y answered, with a blush and smile, ”And I, father, was never able to act a daughter's part by you until now, and therefore I think you have every right to expect I should do so for some time longer. I have no objections to be Charles Brierley's wife, and I have told him so; but we are both young, and at all events I will not leave you.”

”Now,” said Mrs. Newton, who was sitting by, ”instead of that young man taking more land, which is very dear about here, would it not be a good plan if he were to come and live with you, Mr. Marsden, and help you with the farm.”

And Mr. Marsden said, ”That is the very thing; I will go and speak to him about it; and f.a.n.n.y and her husband can have the house, and farm, and all, as much as they please now, and entirely at my death.”

So it was all settled; and f.a.n.n.y was married at the village church, and Mr. and Mrs. Walton were at the wedding. Good Mrs. Newton lived on at the farm-house, and when f.a.n.n.y's first child was born, it was put into her arms. Then she thought of the time when f.a.n.n.y herself was laid in the same arms; and she blessed G.o.d in her heart, who had enabled her to be of use to one human creature, and to one immortal soul and mind, while she pa.s.sed through this life to the life everlasting.

Joy and sorrow are always mingled on this earth; so it came to pa.s.s that before f.a.n.n.y's first child could walk alone, good, kind Mrs.

Newton died, and was buried. As a shock of corn cometh in, in its season, so she sank to rest, and was gathered into the garner of her Lord. But--

”The memory of the just Is blessed, though they sleep in dust;”

and f.a.n.n.y's children, and children's children, will learn to love that memory.

Many a day, sitting at work in her garden, with her little ones around her, f.a.n.n.y let them gather some flowers, and talk to her about them; and then they would beg, as a reward for good conduct, that she would tell them about her dear grandmother and her own childish days; and much as children love to hear stories, never did any more delight in a story, than did these children, in the story of f.a.n.n.y, the Flower-Girl.

Convenient Food.

Little Frances was crying; her sister Mary hearing her sobs, ran in haste to inquire what had happened; and saw her sitting in a corner of the nursery, looking rather sulky, as if she had recently received some disappointment.

”What is the matter, dear little Frances? why do you cry so?”

Frances pouted, and would make no reply.

”Tell me, dear Frances; perhaps I can do something for you.”

”Nothing, Mary,” she sobbed, ”only”--

”Only what, little Frances? It cannot be _nothing_ that makes you cry so bitterly.”

”Only mamma would not give--” she looked a little ashamed, and did not finish her sentence.

”_What_ would she not give?”

”Nothing.”

”Nothing!” Frances shook her elbows, as if troubled by Mary's inquiries, but the tears continued flowing down her cheeks.

Just at that moment their sister Anne came into the room, singing in the joy of her heart, with a piece of plum-cake in her hand, holding it up, and turning it about before her sisters to exhibit her newly-acquired possession, on which Frances fixed her eyes with eager gaze, and the tears flowed still faster, accompanied with a kind of angry sob.

”Frances! what is the matter that you are crying so? see what I have got! you will spoil all the happiness of our feast.”

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