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Ezrom's mind was firmly made up, however, and he declared that he never would face the impending exposure. He gathered together a few articles of clothing while his sisters followed him from room to room with painful sobs. He was soon ready. His younger sister, Monroah, fell on his neck in a paroxysm of grief. Ezrom could utter but a few broken words when he essayed to bid them farewell.
With one of these homes, located centrally and bearing evidence of prosperity and culture, the reader is already somewhat acquainted. In the room where young Ezrom took leave of his sisters, twenty-five years before, an interesting group had gathered. Monroah, the last survivor of Salome's children, had wedded Amonober, and four lovely children blessed their union.
We can push our projects as hard as we please, and feel confident that nothing but good is being accomplished." The melodious voice of young Rebekah was now heard in another apartment, warbling one of her sweetest songs. "Jehovah bless the child!" cried the grandmother. "How that voice of melody cheers my heart!" "Mother!" quickly replied Monroah.
"Permit me to call her into this apartment, where she may sing and play thy favorite 'song of Judah." "Thou art ever kind to thy mother, dear Monroah; do as thou desirest." Rebekah was called. "Will my daughter sing and play for us her grandmother's favorite 'song of Judah'?" "With pleasure, mother," cried Rebekah, as she quickly left the apartment.
His favorite harp stood by his side. "Take this, my sweet Monroah," he said, in trembling accents, "and whenever thy hand shall strike its chords of melody remember that thou art loved with all the strong affection of a brother's heart. And now, in the presence of Jehovah I make the solemn vow that from this hour I shall reform my ways."
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