The inmates of our dwelling became terrified.  The Widow Green crept to the darkest corner of the room and remained with her face bowed upon her hands.  “I am no safer,” said she, “in this corner than in any other place, but I do not like to sit near a window while the lightning is so bright and close at hand.”  Even my aunt, self-possessed as she usually was, showed visible signs of alarm, and truly the scene would have inspired almost any one with a feeling of terror, mixed with awe, at the sublime but awful war of the elements.  The wind blew a perfect hurricane, and the rain fell in torrents, and, quickly succeeding the flashes of forked lightning, peal after peal of thunder shook the house to its foundation.  Grandma Adams was the only one who seemed to feel no fear; but there was deep reverence in her voice as she said, “Be not afraid my children; for the same Voice which calmed the boisterous waves on the Sea of Galilee governs this tempest, and protected by Him we need not fear.”  The storm lasted for hours and increased in violence till Grandma said, “the storm of thirty years ago was far less severe than this.”  The rushing of the wind and rain, the deep darkness, except when lighted by the glare of the vivid lightning, with the awful roll of the thunder, altogether formed a scene which tended to inspire a feelings of deep awe mingled with terror.  There had been a momentary lull in the tempest, when the air was filled with a sudden blaze of blinding light, succeeded by a crash of thunder which shook the very ground beneath our feet.  “That lightning surely struck close at hand,” said Uncle Nathan, as he opened the door and looked out into the darkness, and a few moments after the cry of “fire” added to the terrors of the storm.  A barn belonging to a neighbor who lived a mile distant from us, had been struck by that flash, and was soon wrapped in flames.  It was a large building, with timbers and boards like tinder, and was filled with hay, and it was well-nigh consumed before assistance could reach the spot, and it was with much difficulty that the flames could be kept from the other buildings on the premises, indeed several of the neighbours were obliged to remain on the spot most of the night.  The storm continued with unabated fury till after midnight and then gradually died away, and from many a home a prayer of thanksgiving ascended to Heaven, for protection amid the perils of that long-to-be-remembered storm.

CHAPTER XXII.

I believe there is a power and solemnity in the near approach of death which often makes itself felt even before it invades a household; and something of this kind was experienced by the change which came over Grandma Adams about this time.  It would have been difficult for her dearest friends to have explained in what the change consisted; but a change there certainly was which impressed all who saw her.  She still sat in her arm-chair, she suffered no pain, and her