Brown, Hallie Q.
|AUNT MAC -- A Life in Three Chapters|
A pretty home with many a cluster of shrubs and cedars. May flowers fill the air with fragrance. 'Tis Evergreen Cottage--Aunt Mac's home. But why are the shutters closed, and what means that bow of heavy crape? We enter--a death-like stillness pervades. Then we learn that she has flown--that our dear Aunt Mac is with us no more. "It was only this morning she went," says one. A loving hand penned a letter she dictated, and then--a look of recognition, a smile and that sweet spirit took its gentle flight into the fullness of life. Her work was done and nobly done. She was not left to suffer, but while fond hearts would detain her and loving hands were clinging to her to keep her from dying, she silently vanished from our sight, and we can hardly see to write for the memory of her, though it is an arm's length till sunset. It is only a short time since we folded her in the soft gray robe--a short time since we placed her within the casket and gazed affectionately upon the serene face whose youth and freshness seemed to return and made her even more beautiful in death than in life.
So vivid is it all before us, that we are again in the past and beside her. The white hands are so meekly folded upon the still bosom that there seems to be prayer in them there. All lips are mute and all hearts are touched. Even merry, rollicking Dash quits his sports and whines piteously. The pet canary has ceased its song, while the lofty pines outside sing a sad refrain as we bear the dear form from
Aunt Mac is no more and we shall miss her forever, but each of her loved ones can set up a tablet in the heart and write upon it simply this:
Sacred to the Memory
Our Dear Aunt Mac