The last lingering, trembling note fell upon the death-like stillness of the room, as with one sharp, brief struggle, one look of ineffable love and peace, the tired lids drooped heavily over the eyes never to be lifted again.  Light had gleamed upon the darkened pathway, but the silent room, the dying fire, the failing light, and the falling rain were all in fellowship with Death.  My blessed boy!  God had given him back his three lost years!

“Oh, it is hard to take to heart the lesson that such deaths will teach, but let no man reject it, for it is one that all must learn.  When Death strikes down the innocent and young, from every fragile form from which he lets the panting spirit free a hundred virtues rise, in shapes of mercy, charity, and love, to walk the world and bless it.  Of every tear that sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves, some good is born, some gentler nature comes.”

[Illustration:  TAIL-PIECE.]