Hertha, when the veiled chariot stood in Helgeland, and which made the groves and grottoes of Phrygia sacred to Dindymene.  Edna loved trees and flowers, stars and clouds, with a warm, clinging affection, as she loved those of her own race; and that solace and amusement which most children find in the society of children and the sports of childhood this girl derived from the solitude and serenity of nature.  To her woods and fields were indeed vocal, and every flitting bird and gurgling brook, every passing cloud and whispering breeze, brought messages of God’s eternal love and wisdom, and drew her tender, yearning heart more closely to Jehovah, the Lord God Omnipotent.  To-day, in the boundless reverence and religious enthusiasm of her character, she directed her steps to a large spreading oak, now leafless, where in summer she often came to read and pray; and here falling on her knees she thanked God for the blessings showered upon her.  Entirely free from discontent and querulousness, she was thoroughly happy in her poor humble home, and over all, like a consecration, shone the devoted love for her grandfather, which more than compensated for any want of which she might otherwise have been conscious.  Accustomed always to ask special favor for him, his name now passed her lips in earnest supplication, and she fervently thanked the Father that his threatened illness had been arrested without serious consequences.  The sun had gone down when she rose and hurried on in search of the cow.  The shadows of a winter evening gathered in the forest and climbed like trooping spirits up the rocky mountain side, and as she plunged deeper and deeper into the woods, the child began a wild cattle call that she was wont to use on such occasions.  The echoes rang out a weird Brocken chorus, and at last, when she was growing impatient of the fruitless search, she paused to listen, and heard the welcome sound of the familiar lowing, by which the old cow recognized her summons.  Following the sound, Edna soon saw the missing favorite coming slowly toward her, and ere many moments both were running homeward.  As she approached the house, driving Brindle before her, and merrily singing her rude ‘Ranz des vaches’, the moon rose full and round, and threw a flood of light over the porch where the blacksmith still sat.  Edna took off her bonnet and waved it at him, but he did not seem to notice the signal, and driving the cow into the yard, she called out as she latched the gate: 

“Grandy, dear, why don’t you go in to the fire?  Are you waiting for me, out here in the cold?  I think Brindle certainly must have been cropping grass around the old walls of Jericho, as that is the farthest off of any place I know.  If she is half as tired and hungry as I am, she ought to be glad to get home.”  He did not answer, and running up the steps she thought he had fallen asleep.  The old woolen hat shaded his face, but when she crept on tiptoe to the chair, stooped, put her arms around him, and kissed his wrinkled cheek, she started back in terror.  The eyes stared at the moon, the stiff fingers clutched the pipe from which the ashes had not been shaken, and the face was cold and rigid.  Aaron Hunt had indeed fallen asleep, to wake no more amid the storms and woes and tears of time.