Barriers Burned Away | Page 9

hymn about papa's sleep."
The thought of hearing their brother sing lured them away at once, for
he had a mellow tenor voice that seemed to the little girls sweeter than
a bird's. A moment later the widow's heart was comforted by hearing
those words that have been balm for so many wounds:
"Asleep in Jesus! blessed sleep! From which none ever wakes to
weep."

Then, putting on his sisters' flannel wrappers, he set them down by the
fire, telling stories in the meantime to divert their thoughts from the
scene they had just witnessed.
Thus no horror of death was suffered to enter their young minds. They
were not brought face to face with a dreadful mystery which they could
not understand, but which would have a sinister effect for life.
Gradually they would learn the truth, but still the first impression
would remain, and their father's death would ever be to them a sleep
from which he would wake by and by, "never to be sick any more."
Dennis set about preparations for their simple morning meal so deftly
and easily as to show that it was no unaccustomed task. A sister older
than himself had died while yet an infant, leaving a heartache till he
came--God's best remedy. Then two sisters had died after his day, and
he had been compelled to be to his mother daughter as well as son, to
make himself useful in every household task. His father had been
wrapped up in useless inventions, vain enterprises, and was much away.
So mother and son were constantly together. He had early become a
great comfort and help to her, God blessing her in this vital respect,
though her lot seemed hard in other ways. Thus, while he had the heart
and courage of a man, he also had the quick, supple hand and gentle
bearing of a woman, when occasion required. As proof of his skill, a
tempting meal from the simplest materials was placed smoking on the
table, and the little girls were soon chatting contentedly over their
breakfast. In the meantime the wife within had drawn near her dead
husband and taken his cold hand. For a while she dwelt on the past in
strong and tearful agony, then, in accordance with long-established
habit, her thoughts went forward into the future. In imagination she was
present at her husband's reception in heaven. The narrow, meagre room
melted away, and her feet seemed to stand on the "golden pavement."
The jubilant clash of heavenly cymbals thrilled her heart. She seemed
taking part in a triumphal march led by celestial minstrelsy toward the
throne. She saw her husband mount its white, glistening steps, so
changed, and yet so like his former self when full of love, youth, and
hope. He appeared overwhelmed with a sense of unworthiness, but his
reception was all the more kind and reassuring. Then as he departed

from the royal presence, crowned with God's love and favor forever,
though he had all heaven before him, he seemed looking for her as that
he longed for most, and her strong effort to reach his side aroused her
from her revery as from a dream. But her vision had strengthened her,
as was ever the case, and the bitterness of grief was passed. Imprinting
a long kiss on her husband's cold forehead, she joined her family in the
outer room with calm and quiet mien. Her son saw and understood the
change in his mother's manner, and from long experience knew its
cause.
We need not dwell on what followed--preparations for burial, the
funeral, the return to a home from which one who had filled so large a
place had gone--a home on which rested the shadow of death. These are
old, familiar scenes, acted over and over every day, and yet in the little
households where they occur there is a terrible sense of novelty as if
they then happened for the first time. The family feel as if they were
passing through a chaotic period--the old world breaking up and
vanishing, and a new formation and combination of all the elements
that make up life taking place.
Many changes followed. Their farm was sold. Part of a small house in
the village of Bankville was rented as their future residence. A very
small annuity from some property in the East, left by Mrs. Fleet's father,
was, with Dennis's labor, all the family had to depend on now--a
meagre prospect.
But Dennis was very sanguine; for in this respect he had his father's
temperament. The world was all before him, and Chicago, the young
and giant city of the West, seemed an Eldorado, where fortune, and
perhaps fame, might soon be won. He would not only place the family
beyond want, but surround