. T. DeWitt Talmage : his life and work : biographical edition . American audience, all leaningforward and nodding to show how well they understood Italian. There was a wooden canopy at the head of the old cradle that somehow gotloose and was taken off. But your infantile mind was most impressed with theface which, much of the time, hovered over you. Other women sometimes lookedin at the child, and although you were not old enough to understand their talk,by instinct you knew it was something disagreeable, and began to cry till the dear,sweet, familiar face again hovered and the rainbow arched


. T. DeWitt Talmage : his life and work : biographical edition . American audience, all leaningforward and nodding to show how well they understood Italian. There was a wooden canopy at the head of the old cradle that somehow gotloose and was taken off. But your infantile mind was most impressed with theface which, much of the time, hovered over you. Other women sometimes lookedin at the child, and although you were not old enough to understand their talk,by instinct you knew it was something disagreeable, and began to cry till the dear,sweet, familiar face again hovered and the rainbow arched the sky. Oh, wenever get away from the benediction of such a face! It looks at us throughstorm and night. It smiles all to pieces the worlds frown. After thirtv-fiveyears of rough tumbling on the worlds couch, it puts us in the cradle again,and hushes us as with the very lullaby of heaven. Let the old cradle rest in the garret. It has earned its quiet. The handsthat shook up its pillow have quit work. The foot that kept the rocker in BOYHOOD REMINISCENCES 4i. CORN HUSKING TIME; 42 T. DE WITT TALMAGE—HIS LIFE AND WORK motion is through with its journey. The face that hovered has been veiled frommortal sight. Cradle of blessed memories! Cradle that soothed so many littlegriefs! Cradle that kindled so many hopes! Cradle that rested so manyfatigues! Sleep now thyself, after so many years of putting others to sleep! Occasionally, too, there is a note of sorrow, indicating that he was not theparagon good boy of the story books. When I was a boy, he said, and alittle reckless, my mother used to say to me, DeWitt, you will be sorry for thiswhen I am gone. I remember how she looked, with her cap and spectacles. 1remember just how she sat with the Bible on her lap. I laughed the admonitionoff, but she never said a truer thing in all her life. I have been sorry for it eversince. LIFE ON THE FARM The restless activity and superabundant energy which characterized his man-hood were a part


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectclergy, bookyear1902