WITH A WINE-GLASS. 95

she took ; and it dwindled and dwindled away,
and died while she was far off, under re-
straint. I asked to see it, for I wanted to
put a few shamrocks with the flowers they
strewed over it, on account of its blessed
grand-mother’s country, and while I was look-
ing at the poor little atomy, it’s father came
in. ‘Don’t go, Peggy, he said ina whisper
like; ‘don’t go; you and I know why I am
thankful that the spirit is freed from its little
suffering body! and the mother away and
all; it will half kill her, for she has a tender,
loving heart.’ |

“Don’t give way, Sir, I says, she may take
a thought from this very thing. Who can
tell

“His face lighted up for a minute, but
fell. again, and I left him alone with his dead
child, whose erave was dug by its mother,
with a wine-glass. She came back after a

time, looking as fresh as a rose in June;