- fection upon a lifeless corpse—so healthful
bloomed the child, so pale the parent stem!
"How feeble you are, dear father," said Harry: "your arms tremble when you attempt to raise me. I will kneel by you all this night, and pray to God to give you strength. You say there is none loves you. I love you; and Collingwood loves you; and many, many more. So do not leave us."—"And I love you too, dear, dear Harry," cried Sir Richard, his voice nearly suffocated by his grief; "and all who knew you honoured and loved you; and curse be on those who utter one word against him. He is the noblest fellow that ever lived." "Uncle Richard, don't cry," said the boy: "it grieves him so to see you. Don't look so sad, dear father. Why is your hand so cold: can nothing warm it?" "Nothing, Harry.—Do not weep so bitterly, dear uncle." "I have suffered agony. Now, all is peace.—God bless
