Mary cious the word of God was to her soul. Scott, also, devoted herself to her friend, and never left her but when her own strength failed. The excessive breathlessness with which Jessy was afflicted, continued to increase so much as to bring on fits of extreme suffering. During these fits, Jessy's friends often expected to see her breathe her last. The doctor saw her often, but no earthly skill was of any avail. Her fits became more and more frequent, and though, when she had any ease, Jessy continued to look even cheerful and happy, those who knew her could not wish her sufferings to be prolonged. When it was found necessary for a person to sit up all night with her, one of the ladies went herself to Jessy's mother, (who now scarcely ever came to see her,) and told her how ill her child was, and asked her to sit up with her at night, by turns with her other friends. Her answer was, That she would do so, if the ladies paid her for it. Poor Jessy was not told this; but she never afterwards saw her mother. At last the time came when Jessy was indeed to hear the cry,- Behold the bridegroom cometh!' But now her lamp was trimmed, and the cry was welcome. The day before that event, one of her kind ladies visited her. When she was going to read, Jessy attempted to speak, but was so weak her voice was inaudible. The lady put her ear close to her, and she said, 'The 17th ness. 6 of John.' This the lady read, and Jessy seemed to feel every word. When the lady was leaving her, she made an effort, and looking smilingly at her, and then up to heaven, said, Farewell.'" That night she had many severe fits; and, at last, after one in which she suffered much, she at once, ceased to breathe, and lay in perfect stillHer friends at first scarcely believed it was all over; but when the stillness continued, and the face relaxed into that look of inexpressible calmness which follows death, even Mary Scott thanked God that her beloved friend would 'suffer no more, and followed in solemn, but delightful thought, her spirit, now made perfect, into the presence of that glorious Redeemer, whom, while on earth, she had loved so ardently. A few days after this, Jessy's remains were laid in their narrow house. Her step-father was asked to attend as chief mourner, but he had no proper clothes, and declined going. The Sabbath-school master, Mary Scott's father, and a few of his friends, attended. The schoolmistress, dressed in mourning, and some of the school girls, also went to the church-yard, and waited to see the last mournful duties performed. last the few and lowly mourners entered the church-yard, and walked slowly to its farthest and most crowded corner, where a grave was newly dug. The mistress approached nearer. Many new made graves were in the same place. At When all was completed, and the withered turf laid on the grave, one of the girls said in a whisper to the mistress,- O mistress! what makes them put the graves so close together in that corner? See they are obliged to tread on some that seem quite new.' That is the place for the poor, my dear,' replied the mistress; but when the last trumpet shall sound, and the graves give up their dead, many, many, will rise to glory, who have been left to charity for the earth in which to sleep their long, long sleep.' END OF JESSY ALLAN. |