Written prior to 1862, the "Pearl of Orr's Island" is ever new; a book filled with delicate fancies, such as seemingly array themselves anew each time one reads them. One sees the "sea like an unbroken mirror all around the pine-girt, lonely shores of Orr's Island," and straightway comes "the heavy, hollow moan of the surf on the beach, like the wild angry howl of some savage animal." Who can read of the beginning of that sweet life, named Mara, which came into this world under the very shadow of the Death angel's wings, without having an intense desire to know how the premature bud blossomed? Again and again one lingers over the descriptions of the character of that baby boy Moses, who came through the tempest, amid the angry billows, pillowed on his dead mother's breast.
d Aunt Ruey were soon left alone in the chamber of death.
"She'll make a beautiful corpse," said Aunt Roxy, surveying the still, white form contemplatively, with her head in an artistic attitude.
"She was a pretty girl," said Aunt Ruey; "dear me, what a Providence! I 'member the wedd'n down in that lower room, and what a handsome couple they were."
"They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their deaths they were not divided," said Aunt Roxy, sententiously.
"What was it she said, did ye hear?" said Aunt Ruey.
"She called the baby 'Mary.'"
"Ah! sure enough, her mother's name afore her. What a still, softly-spoken thing she always was!"
"A pity the poor baby didn't go with her," said Aunt Roxy; "seven-months' children are so hard to raise."
"'Tis a pity," said the other.
But babies will live, and all the more when everybody says that it is a pity they should. Life goes on as inexorably in this world as death. It was ordered by THE WILL ab