. Christian herald and signs of our times . ndcome to them, and as both her own andher husbands parents were dead, and noone had a legal claim upon her, effort wasmade to remove her to this Christianhome. She met a lady at an appointedplace, and she disguised herself by a dif-ferent style of dress, having her face en-tirely covered. It was necessary for themto take a train at a station near by. Be-fore the train started she had been missed,and men sent to search for her. They cameto this station and examined every womanand girl there, a man lifting the cloth fromher head, and holding a lighted
. Christian herald and signs of our times . ndcome to them, and as both her own andher husbands parents were dead, and noone had a legal claim upon her, effort wasmade to remove her to this Christianhome. She met a lady at an appointedplace, and she disguised herself by a dif-ferent style of dress, having her face en-tirely covered. It was necessary for themto take a train at a station near by. Be-fore the train started she had been missed,and men sent to search for her. They cameto this station and examined every womanand girl there, a man lifting the cloth fromher head, and holding a lighted lanternsquare in her face: but his perceptivefaculties were blunted, so that he said, This is not the girl we are looking for,and she was taken away in safety, and isdong well in her new home. 1 met herlast autumn, and she had such a bright,happy face, and was progressing well inher studies. Of the nearly in India, at least 281,400 are underfifteen years of age. THE CHRISTIAN HERALD AND SIGNS OF OUR TIMES. Oct. r :! 185 T. BOOK SHELF CRADLE SONG. XJIGHTINGALE, oh. leave our garden,1 Where soft Jews the blossoms steep;With thv litanies melodious Come and sing mv son to sleep!Nay, he sleeps not for thy chanting, And his weeping hath not not. nightingale ! My darling Does not wish to be a priest. O thou thievish, clever jackdaw, That in coin tindest thy joy,With thv tales of gold and profit Come and soothe my wailing boy!Nay, thv chatter does not lull him, And his crving is not not, jackdaw ! for my darlingWill not choose the merchants trade. Wild dove, leave the fields and pasturesWhere thou grievest all day long : Come and bring my boy sweet slumberWith thv melancholy song ! Still he weeps. Nay, come not hither,Plaintive songster, for I see That he loves not lamentations, And no mourner will he be. Leave thy chase, brave-hearted falcon ! Hapiy he thv song would the boy lav hushed, and slumbered, With thewar-notes in his ear. —
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