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"Compiled From Her Letters and Journals by Her Son Charles Edward Stowe"

Good, honest, trustful old
soul! She was truly one who hungered and thirsted for righteousness.
Yesterday morning our poor little dog, Daisy, who had been ailing the
day before, was suddenly seized with frightful spasms and died in half
an hour. Poor little affectionate thing! If I were half as good for my
nature as she for hers I should be much better than I am. While we
were all mourning over her the news came that Aunt Frankie was
breathing her last. Hatty, Eliza, Anna, and I made her shroud
yesterday, and this morning I made her cap. We have just come from her
grave.
_July_ 23. At last, my dear, the hand of the Lord hath touched
us. We have been watching all day by the dying bed of little Charley,
who is gradually sinking. After a partial recovery from the attack I
described in my last letter he continued for some days very feeble,
but still we hoped for recovery. About four days ago he was taken with
decided cholera, and now there is no hope of his surviving this night.
Every kindness is shown us by the neighbors. Do not return. All will
be over before you could possibly get here, and the epidemic is now
said by the physicians to prove fatal to every new case. Bear up. Let
us not faint when we are rebuked of Him. I dare not trust myself to
say more but shall write again soon.
_July_ 26. MY DEAR HUSBAND,--At last it is over and our dear
little one is gone from us.


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