AMY ROSS,

AND HER BLIND GRANDFATHER.

·

BY THE AUTHOR OF SOLITARY HOURS.

Do you see that pretty little girl, and that old man, sitting together by the way-side, on that green sunny bank under the old hawthorn? That poor old man is blind, quite blind! and that good little girl often leads him, about this hour on summer evenings, to that pleasant spot, where the last sunbeams shine brightly on the green sheltered bank, and on the old man's uncovered head; for his hat is off, you see—his little granddaughter holds it as if to ask alms from the passers by; but she does not beg, though she and her old grandfather are very poor; she only holds it for him, that he may feel the comfortable warmth of the setting sun-beams on his bare head, and among its thin silvery locks.

That poor old man now lives in the parish workhouse; yet the time was, when he had a comfortable dwelling of his own. A good farm-house, with a pretty garden and orchard, and barns, and granaries, meadow and corn land, and much cattle. And then he was a very happy man; for, beside his worldly substance, he had a wife and children whom he loved, and who loved him dearly, and for a great many years he prospered in all his undertakings.

Happy was it for Adam Hartly, that while all went well with him, he never forgot his dependence on the Giver of all good, nor ever lay down in his bed at night, nor arose from it in the morning, without thanking Him for his mercies; nor ever passed a day without reading some portion of the Holy Scriptures to his assembled family. Happy was it for Adam Hartly that he was thus piously observant in the days of his prosperity, for at last the evil days came, and then he was not forsaken by the God in whom he trusted.

First of all, sickness, grievous sickness! was sent into his house, and of five blooming and beautiful children, fast growing into youths and maidens, four were taken away from him, within a few weeks of each other, by a contagious malady; and their