This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1869 Excerpt: ... was heard, and Miss Taylor quietly left the bedside, and soon was with the agitated father, who rejoiced to know his child was yet alive; but whilst she spoke, a person, who had been sitting up during the night, stood at the door opening into the chamber of death, and, motioning to Miss Taylor, said in a loud whisper, --' She's asking for you.' Her manner gave the idea that moments were most precious, and, without another word, the farmer followed Miss Taylor to the bedside of his Kate. She held out her cold hand, and he stooped down and kissed the fair forehead on which the death-dew stood. She could not at first speak, but she looked from her father to Miss Taylor, and at last she said, 'Dearest father, your poor Kate is saved, not lost. The Friend of sinners loves me, even me. Father, thank you for bringing me here. I cannot tell what I owe Miss Taylor. Father dearest, will you leave my poor baby here?' The parent pressed her hand, but the pallor of death had overspread her features; her eyes opened once more--not to earth, but to heaven--the look was upward: and, with the one name 'Jesus' on her parted lips, the emancipated spirit, washed, justified, sanctified, entered glory. On the afternoon of Christmas-day, Mrs. Bethune left for a little while the group of joyous children at Sunny Lea to comfort, were it possible, the desolate hearts at the Broadmeads farm. N Mr. Walker himself opened the door and ushered her into the little parlour, in which a cheerful fire was burning. He had evidently been sitting here alone, and his large Bible was lying open on the table. Sorrow had imprinted its mark on his forehead and on his bowed form; but it was a sorrow past, not present; the thorn no longer cankered in the wound; the bitterness no longer poisoned the cup...