Midnight
I have seen him , and heard his precious words . He hath kist me for us alle . _ November . Midnight _ . Dear little Bill hath ta'en a feverish attack . Early in the night his mind wandered , and he says fearfullie , `` Mother , why hangs yon hatchet in the air with its sharp edge turned towards us ? '' I rise , to move the lamp , and say , `` Do you see it now ? ''