window; and the humming-birds, flitting among its brilliant blossoms, murmur a constant, gentle lullaby for the infant sleeper. See, its skin is not so dark but that we

fond hand has closely tucked about the little form; and the breath comes and goes quickl

see the spi

were the c

d-heart draws

lent-seem

e in a hovel, the angels may be there. Their loving, pitying natures shrink not from

ened door, across the room, and a fervent

its mother? Here, in this rude cabin, is a mother's heart,-tender with its holy aff

she might be designated; a sort of appendage on which to hang, as it were, the commands, threats, and severities that from time to time might be administered; b

erly instincts as if she had been born in a more favored condition; and the swarthy complexion of her child made it no less dear or lovely in her sight; while a consciousness of its degradation and sad future served only to deepen and int

nifested it more, but for the idol, the little girl baby, which had now for nearly a year nestled in her arms, and completely possessed her heart. When they were hungry, they came like chickens about her cabin-d

orange gourds that grew around the door for its amusement. Sometimes a broken toy or a shining trinket, which she had picked up in the house, or a smooth pebble from the yard, would be added to the treasures of the li

abin, and carelessly looked in upon the mother and child amusing themsel

d she's got dat same sweet look 'bout de eyes,-don't you think so, Massa? Poor Tidy! she's"-and Annie stopped, and a deep sigh, instead of words, filled up the sentence, and tears dropped down upon the b

e South is cold, dark, and cheerless; the land

s a flower; and dat's just what your fadder, Massa Carroll, sold her for. My poor mudder-how she cried and took on! but then she grew more settled like. She said she'd gi'n her up for de good Lord to take care on. She said, if he could take care of de posies in de wood

e's getting old, and we must do well by her in her old age. And you, Annie, you mustn't mind those other things. We mustn't borrow trouble. And we can't help it, you know; and we mustn't cry and fret for what we can't help. What's the use? It don't do any good, you see, and only makes a bad matter worse. Must take things as they come, in this world of ours, A

ly to say amid her sobs, "pleas

ouble. We'll take good care of you. You've got a nice baby, that's a fact,-the s

her baby; and taking up the little blossom, she laid it with pride upon her bosom, murmuring, "Years

the little sleeper, and lo, her treasure was gone! The master had found it convenient, in maki

away by death. But oh, how much harder it must be to have a babe torn away from the maternal arms by the stern hand of oppression, and fl

the lightning's blast. Her strong frame shook and trembled beneath the shock; her eye rolled and burned in tearless anguish, and her voice failed her in the

out. The cat will mew when her kittens are taken away. Sh

Lord will help ye; nobody else can. I's so sorry for ye, honey; but yer poor, old mudder can't do noffin. 'Tis de yoke de Heavenly Massa puts on

s by which this little slave-child was to be drawn towards God. Do you remember this verse in the Bi