Page:Letters of Life.djvu/293

Rh life, and was laid by the pale angel on a turf pillow. It was a daughter of fair countenance and unusually large size, for whose crushed life my own was placed in imminent peril, and my health, for months afterwards, seriously suffered. Then followed the premature birth of two sons, and I gradually resigned the hope of ever becoming the mother of a living babe.

But somewhat more than eight years after our marriage, one of the smallest representatives of the human race was laid in my bosom by the All Bountiful. Scarcely four pounds in weight was this miniature of humanity; and to see it breathing, moving, stretching its tiny hands, unclosing its bright, blue eyes, was a sleepless source of wonder—a new demonstration of creative power and infinite goodness. Like a vision was the little Mary, and a blessing has she since been to all who have known her. I could not believe she was mine. I could not feel that I had a right to her, though she so freely drew her subsistence from me. Her loving babyhood was as a dream of enchantment to the heart which had so long schooled itself to resign anticipations of this nature.

Scarcely two years after her advent, a brother, of larger proportions, and vigorous frame, gladdened her nursery. Swiftly fled the months in their sweet companionship, and early and proudly was she seen guiding his footsteps as they traversed the velvet lawn. His father honored him with the name of Andrew, which