'Is it getting night?' said an old Scottish woman ninety-seven years of age. And her aged Scottish husband by her side, realizing that she was dying, bent down close to her and said, 'Yes, Janet, it is getting night.' She was wandering a bit and was back in the olden days with her loved ones, but she knew that the end was near. She was still a moment, and then said, 'Are the boys all in?' Yes,' he said, 'the boys are all in, Janet.' (The last one had come home three years before).
She was again still a moment more, then she said, 'I will soon be in."Yes, Janet, you will soon be in.' And you will soon come too,' she asked. 'Yes!' he said, 'by the grace of God I will soon come too.' She reached out her thin hands in order that she might clasp them round his neck and draw him down to her side, as she said, 'And He will then shut us all in.' `All in!'
I wonder if you can say it, with the boys all in, the girls all in. It is a sad thing to have a boy that is a wanderer and a girl that is lost.—J. Wilbur Chapman
Soon Thy saints shall all be gather'd—Inside the veil,
All at home—no more be scatter'd—Inside the veil.
(Gen. 7. 1; Rev. 21. 27)