This was on the last night of Alice Gray's life; and when Nanny Nurse (who saw the end was approaching) summoned Mr. Gray and Mr. Elton to watch by the bed-side, they thought Alice looked like an angel already, as sitting upright against her pillows, she extended a hand to each. Her eyes shone brightly, and a band of her soft silky hair fell down to her shoulders, on either side her marble pale countenance. Poor Jet sate close by the bed-side; for no one had the cruelty to keep him out now; and his little mistress still from time to time rested her hand on her faithful dog's head. Fisher Mary was crouched in a corner of the room, her eyes fixed on Alice, and her mind utterly absorbed in the solemn scene before her; but yet ready to run for anything that was wanted in a sort of mechanical way. Alice again repeated “Here we suffer grief and pain,” and then Mr. Gray read the prayer from the Visitation of the Sick, beginning, “ Oh Father of mercies, God of all comfort," and parts of the 71st Psalm. Then Alice spoke again, and said several of the "Christmas Chimes" she was fondest of; "Hark the Herald Angels sing," and "High let us swell our tuneful notes," repeating twice over the last verse. "When shall we reach those blissful realms, And learn of the celestial choir Their own immortal strains?" "Think of me, next Christmas," she said to Mr. Gray," So happy!" Then again they read prayers and verses of the Bible to her, and she closed her eyes, and whispered, "I am very tired, let me go home!" After that, she did not speak again, except murmuring from time to time a few Bible words, "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters." "The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places." "They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain." "There shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away.' "And the Spirit and the Bride say, Come, and let him that heareth say Come, and let him that is athirst Come." Alice's voice quite ceased, with a great effort she took Mr. Gray's hand, and laid it in Mowbray Elton's, then she closed her eyes, and they thought she slept. "We watch'd her breathing through the night, "So silently we seem'd to speak, As we had lent her half our powers "Our very hopes belied our fears, We thought her dying when she slept, "For when the morn came dim and sad Her quiet eyelids closed, she had Another morn than ours!"-HOOD. "Rest from their labours, and their works do follow them."-REV. xiv. 13. "Being dead, yet speaketh."-HEB. xi. 4. DESOLATE indeed did Evesham appear to many a one, when the sweet child who had for so many years brightened it with her presence was gone from amongst them. But the ministrations of the child did not end with her life. Many a living soul profited by words she had spoken, by gentle actions she had done; which were stored up in the memories of those who had loved her, and brought out years after her head was laid in the grave, as teaching for their children and their children's children; even as the bread which is cast on the waters and found again after many days. What Alice would have liked was considered by Mr. Gray, in every arrangement of the funeral. The day after her death, any of the parishioners who came, were admitted to see Alice laid out; and few ever forget the look of that angel face, strewn round with flowers as fading and as fair as herself. All the villagers who could any way get so far, attended the funeral; flowers were strewn before the coffin, and according to the beautiful and very ancient custom long prevalent in Evesham, and still practised, in not a few of our country places, the church bells, after tolling solemnly during the slow procession, rang out a merry peal, a Welcome Home, |