"Softly, sweet summer stars, Evermore vigil keeping, Tell her, in steadfast tones, 'He is not dead, but sleeping.'

"Gently, sweet summer wind, All things in perfume steeping; Breathe in her sorrowing soul, 'He is not dead, but sleeping;

"'And safe in Jesus' arms, His great reward is reaping.'

Up! mother, up! and cry, 'He is not dead, but sleeping.'"

A faint flush pa.s.sed over the mother's pale cheek, for she knew that some one who loved her, had thus tenderly warned her that her grief was not endured as hopefully as it should be. She had not remembered that her beloved Charley was only "gone before, not lost."

With an earnest, prayerful effort, she once more grew cheerful, and with her cheerfulness came happiness to the children's hearts, though they all their lives will remember their good, pure, and tenderly beloved brother--whom you, dear little reader, also love, and know as

LAME CHARLEY.

Dear little readers, you and I have now followed Charley together through six books, in which his life, and the lives of his brothers and sisters, have been faithfully portrayed. If the good and pure life of the little lame child, now happy in heaven, gives you _one_ steadfast resolution, to endeavor, from this time forth, to lead a good and pure life, it will gladden the inmost heart of your loving

AUNT f.a.n.n.y.

THE END.