VOLUME 19,
POETRY AND MISCE
Acre must be Somethitig il?tang.
By CLIZ~ COOP.
%%lien earth produces free and fair,
The goblets vraving corn;
When fragrant Milts perfume the sir. '
Anil fleecy flocks are shorn;
While thousands move with aching itfai
And sing the ceaseless song,
.IVC Starve, we die, oh give us breadVr
There must be something Wrong
When wealthi IN wrought as seasons rot
Prom car the fruitful bo I
When lutury from pole to pole
Reaps fruit of hiatnnn
When froths thousand, one atone
LA plenty rolls Along—
The others only gitity the bone—
There must be something wrong.
And when production ntwer ends,
The earth is yielding ever;
A copious harvest oft begins,
Hut distribution—ne%ert -
When toiling witlione, work to Gtl
The xenhhy coffer', monk,
When hands are crushed that work an
There namt be something wrong,
When honest poor men's tables waste
To barrenness and drought;
There must be something In the way
That's worth the finding out.
With surfeits one great table bends,
While numbers mote along
And scarce a trust their hoard ettenda
Time must be something n TOtig./
Then let the law give equal - right
To wealthy and to poor:.
Let freedom etpuli the nrrn of might.
%V.,i ask for !nothing more
Until this opttem n I,egun.
The burden of our song
Must be this one, this only one—
'Mere must be something strung
The Boy-Lover's Re
FROM TUE HOME JOURiAI
A of ru—beautiful and daring, with al dark, fleshing
lye, a haughty hp and a form alight mid g raceful—withg
'white, womanly brow, caressed by soft,iriclilmtasses of
chestnut ringlets, and a cheek-dimpled and tinted like a
psis—witli a rare mingling of pride and softness over
' , lin g &incliner, though that softness tEax now lost in ,
rr, emu-meta—was caracoling his fiery ste'd through
tie ace.nuo leading up to a venerablo but proudly-reared
:intson, that looked out with a 4114410 W ed i face through a
pup of hue einis, whose giant arms we o extorted as if
a embrace it.
The hand that grasped the tizlitly di
tadl and white, and the slender form 01
cited in an ete,gant but quaint and youth
are km velvet cap carelessly drooping t i t
1; thick, shining curls stela from under
ion his embroidered collar and waved
intiei. throat.
A lady stood in the arched door way of tl
etr its gothic architecture heavy 1116911 e
mine had clambered, putting out liiS
%avid bright profusion, to cat6h the
mhglit that came quivoring down throw
'ores of the elms. The e) ea of the lad 3
easement of the graceful boy, nnti_lier co
11 expression of pride and tendornses.
o's face . might wear, when gazing upc.
'', , tittiful a child as the. ono who,
MI of Ilia young manhood, rode fOtrlei ,
elv his spirited stood up and down the
Weary, at length, with his exciting eX
I! horn the saddle, and throwing tho
sit grOom, ha came with a proud step a
ne side of the lady who hod observed hi:
coati on.
"Ihd I not frighten the light from you
'smy we - tiller/Ir/ perfoimaimel?" he
prity. no- r no! they burn In
, Lll admiration of my ekill. Now, if
I: ting maiden, this risk of my rqeious
:no fur the venturo.' 14enr!
I;trls are sometimes cast away!"
..Oh! yes? of coursc-1 understan, ) 1
dy. "Your mother tuight be ever so ri
. 1 , but yen prefer deepening the r
cask of Clnra Southrland."
As his mother spoke this name, with
IT glance bent upon the facia the yo
counted to his white forehead, - and
, ::4:e.kly beneath her gaze,
'''Oht mother!" he said. - quickly, "10 ,
:my, and we S will have a glorins view ii
unusually heautiful—it is tnagniticentl
lie took his mother's band and drew i tter away through
i• great, dim hall, and. int the aparti 1 ent he mention
`' Tho sunset was indeed beautiful, nnd as its gorgeous
'tht came richer and.deeper through the heavy curtain,
" 31 4, rich glow fell'over the.glitterit g array of costly
`4olte and illuminated-parchments, an luxurious furni
te. /lie put aside the curtain, and tto fresh air stole
, a silent step through the arche d window openin g to
l'' , door. 'Toro was an antique sun-chair standing
," to the casement, and here the lady's slight form
atk half Ind among Re yiOlding cushieins, While the boy
\
'tit ed at her feet, resting his bright head against the
~
ill
,f her velvet dress. Tier- hand lay softly upon his
kuhead andamid his thick ringlets, while the other ye t
' , ltoell clasped tenderly around her boy's.
The: \
wen! both of them beautiful—m i ther and son.—
..
Heel u a sweet, calm. majostical ( loveliness: sweet
1 ::?21:1 the bright, delicate month—calm in the clear, liov
-4i 94s majesticupon the high, proud forehead, yet
tibright sad pure as a maiden's. Th'ere was a tender
anti:tines ' in her smile,) and a perish o grace in all her
e: toss. And this entiftened sadness over her demeanor
'us indescribable winning and subduing.
Ths proud, largo eyes of the buy were bout in deep
Wing upon the gorgeous heap of crimson and golden
6 - I, b hung up into graceful canopies and curtains over
t z;btiore the couch of the descending ) sun. Tho sweet
fus of tits lady rested upon his beautif n l face. Ho was
hike, his father—and though !hero Was dust upon the
"!Per's brow, yet a young and gloriou l a image of the lost
qe the found in the features of her boy. The dark flood
"meg ringlets—the white, intellectual forehead—the
),seeping lash and proud, impassioned eYoz—the feminine
...Ithalighty mouth—tears, mournful tears, dimmed the
'L.'s gaze and quivered upon her drooping lids. And
''Gs hot tear fell silently upon the broW of the youth. but
41 ck 6 . Cat (relit, so lost was he id hie Men deep thoughts.
„,
l'"'Aight,Noth its shadowy robe; crept in through the
tuetimt:and the invisible breeze be l
ase to murmur it
oir to C is% kut the boy and :the lady stirred not. .
"Ralph:" said lady, softly:
. -
14T51otherr" replied the youth, starting half up from his
sang -place, and sinking again into silence. l
l . ,
0th.....,.,4P he spoke again, after a ew moments-had
teed" ")0a know that I. have alwaYs confided every
tto You—yort have been so vor)i good to rte--tell
' ''.. tr giY. do you think—'f,
e hesitated, and though the , dim l ight concealed his
t i , f
tut), she felt the hand' Which, lay in Iher's trembling
t,th rn,etupu. I
Iciv.a..„.,n, Ralph? ()Nu . nal "
ph- `,
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11.10111111111111111MIIMEIMMMENNE Amilins,,Nummorimazammmon,
LAM,
i•
t
Tenge,
J=l
f Vac rider was
iful 6410, lie
o one side, and
its brim down
beck from his
he old mansion,
oo of roves and
sir tdoesonts in
ntrnv gleams of
'gh the waving
follt;wed every
,untenanco wore
I nch as a moth•
so bright and
lory and fre;h
aely and grace
road
erciac
no to
nd ga:
feats
ladyship's oyes
aid, with much
kilter than ever
1 :tou were but a
neck would have
ear! how one's
ou," replied the
1
eoh and cli.irm•
ii 911 the youlig
her smiling and
tith, a deep blush
his eyes droped
I t us go to the
this sunset—it
"Do you think Clara 8
do you think she can love
The tones of the boy we o quivering and husky, and if
the twilight had not . been So deep, he might have seen
that the face of his parent grew pale at his earnestness.
It was an effort for her - to speak in- her usual clear low
tone:—
"1 hardly know how to nswor you, my child. You
know you are so very young—only sixteen—and Clara
is—" .
The broW of the youth grow burning beneath her hand,
stud atorting from her touch,. he said, proudly and pas
eirmateiy t
t'l knew it, mother—l know I nm but n child in years
—but have I nut a heart as miP,ltty . , a soul as earnest- 7
aye, a thonsand times more %ru l e and capable of loving,
than nny of the braiiilsss fops that flutter around Clam
Has she not smiled .on me—caressed me—encouraged
me more thin any other? Does she not know that I love
her—woiship her—wildly, wholly, devotedly? Ido not
thintiit possible that also is trilling mitts Ino.it is nut her
naturo to be so cruel—l would annihilate her if I thought
so for a moment. Mother! ntothert say that you think
she loves me so, in mercy,-mother!" -
"I trust she does, Ralph; I will pray that she may; but .
do not be so excited—do not love bet so entirely—if you
should be disappointed, Whore would yourstrength be?"
"Disappoitxtud: I cannot realize it—it would kill me at
once! She is so beautiful, so bright, so winning—she
bewilders Me with her radiant smile—her lowest tone
thrills nie-1 never con love another.
“Ohl Ralph! I tremble for your happiness—would to
4-leaven you had given you afrsetion to Nellie —she is
nearer your age, and sfte,tvould never trifle wirit you.”
"Amid do you think Clara would trifle with my mad
love? 1 believe you are pl lying with tne, mother." 1
"You have forgotten yourself, Ralph; I hope she would
not—why not go at once and see? if she has encouraged:,
you she should he ready to answer you—go now, and ask
her, and God bless you. my child!"
will gel", and taking his velvet cap front the carpet,
Ralph Elliott turned away.
Perhaps for an hour, the lady still sat Where ho had
left her, and then, with a deep sigh the arose, and ring•
ing for a lieu, took the small silver lamp from the hiind
of the servant, and went to her chamber With a heart
heavy step.
The jewels were laid aside from her hair. and the rich
robe from her form, and with her dark hair unbound
and the folds of her muslin night-dress falling gracefully
around her, she knelt in her still - apartment and prayed
for the happiness of her darling., As she arose in calm,
sweet beauty from her evening petition, there was a slight
rap at the door, and t a young girl put her fair face into the
room.
"Come in, Nellie," said the lady.
The maiden bounded into tho room with a light step.—
She was a sweet yonng creature of fifteen, with a beau
tiful face, an oloritten't-siniloi an exquisite form, and a low,
sweet voice
.6.N1,1y I sleep with you to-night, emit?" she said.
coacingly, kissing L ths lady,'s check end looking up smi
lingly into her eyes.
“Yes, darling! willingly.”
Basks put hes her golden curls under a demure lit
tlo ani crept under the silken counterpanes—and
a pleasant situnber folded its wings and sat upon Ole dos
int el CHUN tne genus tau )' emu nur orpitan-waro.
The hours passed by. marked by the repeating of the
tiny gold watch upon the toilet, and the gloom of mid
night min led with the soft light of the night-lamp. The
curtains of the couch were partly drawn aside, and the
lamp revealed the white arms of Nellie thrown up like a
lily wreath above her head, 'and turning a little upon her
pillow, and while the cheek resting upon it grew a little
rosier and dimpled with a smile, she murmured—
” Ralph!" •
Startled by her own voice. she awoke with a blush,
and nestling closer to the pillow she would hive dreanred
ligaim_hnt that just then she !maid the step of Ralph
passing through the hull and pausing at the door. Fright
ened and blushing. Nelho hid her sweet face in the coun
terpane, while the boy l•titcred, and approaching the bed,
sank down on his knees beside it. •
"Slather:" burst from his lips in agony.
The lady-started from her slumber, and looked into the
white face or her bey.. 'Drew was no childishness nor
softness in his appearance then, for the terrible emotion
pictured upon his features betrayed mightier feeling th,in
ono would think so young a heart could contain. -
"Mother- j eother—inotlier!"'lle murmured in nhens
- walller. "Clara has Mocked me—my heart is
“Oh! my boy—my poor boy! !leaven support thee
in thy anguish! I felt it—l know it would ho thus! Why
dui you Jove that cold, false, beautiful girl—LMy poor, poor
Ralph?” „
••Kill we mother—bairn° with pity! but do not speak
her woo—nom—never! I thought I could ho proud
and resentful, mother', et least till I hurried froni her
eight; but I had no pride—no reproach—no anger--only
agony! my life is dark!"
0.011, Ralph!" sobbed the weeping woman, drawing
his head to her bosom and laying her tearful cheek upon
his ringlets.
"Do not mourn for ino, mother," said the boy, „in a
low, touching tone, heavy with suppressed suffering.—
"Take away your loving arms now; I must go." -
"Go wherq, Ftelphl not away from the honse7 -you
had better try and sleep," said the alit-mad mother, fear.
fu6af the wild mood of her boy.
”Sloop! I Anil hardly sleep to night," said 'the, boy,
bitterly; "bat I shall not go for—l will sock the garilen:---
perhaps tho cold air will soothe my hot brow—my poor
brain burns so;" and tho wretched youth turned away.
Vsnr early the next morning Nellie stole from the side
of her aunt, who h:.d fallen into an uneasy alunibor. and,
donning her rose-colored morning dress and a light
shawl, descended to the garden. Her cheek had lost its
bright dimples, a.itl was as white as snow—her Young
lip quivered, and tears dropped quick from the silken
lashes veiling her sad, soft .eyes. Nellie had hoard
the b(ly and his mother on the night before, and a third
heart had been burdened with suffering.
With a slow step, she passed through the dewy walks,
heedless of the perfumed times and dropping buds and
warbling birds hovering around her path._
".Nly poor. dear Ralph," she murmured, "would that
you could have loved your own Nellie—then you would
never have been made so wretched, and I should not
have been so very miserable. No, no! you could not
love mo—l was not so beautiful, so proud, so fascinating
—:ah! nor so false and cruel. Ile said his heart was bra
kessL4 am sure mine is; but it has been my destiny to
have sorrow- 7 -a poor, orphan girl, with no reiMives, no
friend but her whom ILcall aunt. It was only a sad fate,
after all, that brought - me to this beautiful home and sur
rounded me with luxtiry—for does net everything, that
once was bright,,eeetn dark and desolate? Oh! I wish I
were dead—l wish I were dead:"
There was a spring at the foot of the garde*. whose
waters were , like a young maiden's soul, pure and,derp,
and bright and beautiful; and the little spring was bo
somed 111101feT• and moss, and a huge o/d tree bent
over it tenderlY, reaching:out its strong arms too• shadow
and protect it. Toward this lovely spot the feet of the
young mourner wandered; bat when she had. pawed. the
summer-heuse; anti earns in view td it, else
theriand loves me, mother- r i , I
e? answer, mother?"
I=l
SATURDAY M9RNIK, DECEMBER 23, 1848.
• .4
stood suidettly still, with 14 low, horrified scream,her
bandyebsped together, and her face - ,deadly pale.
Close beside the Spring, with hislntleface pressed up
on the biight flowers growing on its margin.' with the
night-datnp heavy on his beautiful hair;ruotionlessind
silent, lay the form of Ralph Elliott. ' •
Nellie thought that he was dead. Fora few moments
she stood gazing upon him:in pallid terror; then spring
ing to hie side, she sank down upon' the grass, aiidlift
ing his head to her bosom she smoothed back the'cuits
from his marble forohead and cornett his cold face With
agonized kisses. '
"Clara Sutherland!—=cruel, mocking fiend!—you have
killed him--pilled my beautiful, proud cousin—broken his
mother's heart—darkened the soul of his Nellie! Speak
to me, Ralph—look on me once more!"
She dipped hor trembling hand into the s'pring and
dashed the cold ;water in his face; then ahe,Chated his
chill hands, looking all the time With wild susponao into
his countenance.
' "Oh, Ralph!•yon she gasped, as the lashes an .
his white cheek trembled, and his lips parted for breallt.
"Is it you, Nellie!" he said faintly, as hie oyes uncles•
ed and rested on her tearful face, "I was ill • last night.
and When I bent ovdr the spring to bathe my burning
forehead I grow dizzy. and faiiited. Oh, Nellie, my
SWObi cousin:l can never tell you what dreadful sailer•
mg I eaddred—you could not dream of it!"
Ile closed his oyes again, and a low moan struggled
up from his breast. not tears fell on his forehead from
the palo lids of the young girl. •
"1 know all about it, Ralph," she said; "I could with=
er that proud girl for her heartlessness. If she mocked
at your love, why did sho sand you flowers—why did she'
caress you—why did she rend to you—w o r was poetry
and passion forever on her false, bright lip? She knew
you was no child, to be_played with arid petted. Could
' not I, even your own little Nellie, read your strong eta
on your brow, your herirc.'s eloquence in your eyes? I
used to love her because you did—but now I hate her
would not brook herlouch, her presence—"'
"Be still, lielliooNellie, Nellie!" moaned the boy, as
i a bright flush of fever shot up into his pale cheek.' "1
•
i was mad, 1 was presumptuous, I was wild, to think, for
an instant that Clara Sutherland—the beautiful, the ad
mired, the passionate being--could over love me—me, a
child, a foolish, proud, impetuous boy!"
"You shall not speak so, Ralph Elliott!" said the
sweet young creature, whose gentle heart, forgetful of its
[own sorrow. was bursting with sytnpethy,for her cousin,'
and indignation of the syrett wiles of the one he loved.
"She knew that your soul was mighty—she delighted to'
play with your most sacred feelings—she meant that you
should be a sacrifice to her' vanity! Be proud, be cold,
frba smiling and scornful, Ralph, and peeve to her that
she did not triumph; humble her complaceneydonot
letlhor see the sting she inflicted was felt." ~
I
41 do not feel much pride or resentment now, Nitllie.4
This fever, that burns through my veins bewilder* mi.!
I am dizzy, t am ill; I cannot see your kind face, cousin ?
it i; growing so'strango and dark in the air. Won't y - ott:
i call mother, Nellie—do call mother!"
The pleading oyes of the boy grew bright and wild—
hissufrering and exposure to the night air had been too
much for his slight frame: he was delirious with fever.--
The young girl removed his head &Om her bosom, toil,
layin ,, it tenderly down . upon the earth, whore she had
footsteps. to seek assistance.
I=l
IPLARA SUTHERLAND was binding the diatnonde in 4or
hair. which completed her magniflicent attire fora ball.
Thu toilet had done Vs utmost. to make het rare beat ty
bewiltivring, and none could tell whether ,that brill tit
and voluptuonelovehness was the freshness of Wen y.
or the fullness of thirty-six au iner&
'Very young she was nut; but if time bad . 1 -
paired a single charm, art had renewed it, and re
touched it with a brighter grace. Her hair was black as
nighti and folded in superb. braids—heavy and glossy
and sprayed with diernonds—in a shining crown arouisti
the beautifully-formed head, set with such matchless
,grace upon her ivory nech. Iler brow was smooth and
high and haughty; her eyes dark and smiling and finish
ing with gayety, or molting in irresistible sweetness; her
mouth, small and bright and persuasive, with a red, elo
quent lip, curling into scorn or curving into acme smiles.
Lip and eye and brow and cheek were capable of being
molted into the most passionate and bewildering sweet
'tizse. 'lt was little wander that the impulsive heart m ud
poetic fancy of the boy of sixteen were bewildered and
enchanted by her caress and Haltering attentions. And
shooh! it was something fanciful And charming lel be
the object of the fervid devotion of ei boy, a more child
—abet would laugh at him when the Weir grew serous.
and cure his love by wounding his vanity.
As Clara drew on her gloves and' surveyed herself
adm , ringly in the large mirror, she murmured to herself:
"They say Ralph Elliott is ill—dangerously ill. I won-'
der if lem the cause of his Muerte rehawl—a mere
child! .First love— nonsense —sontimnitality! kregret
a little, though, that, I petted ; him so much. Do You
think any one could die of lova for you, Clara SutWer
land?" And she smiled at the imago in the mirror.'
"Come with me„ beautiful Byron, if you would have
your question 'answered; come with me, and your heart
shall tell you-whether you can murder a blight andigift
ed being wills the cruelty of your artful loveliness!—
Come!-1 would have you seo him die!"
It was the' voice of Nellie Elliott that spoke; and,,as
th e s t a rtl e d Clara lamed, she Mood by her side. It Was
a wild thought—the sudden impulse of an excited and
breaking heart—that had Cent her from the death-bed of
her cousin to summon! his destroyer to witness the full
ness of her triumph. Her check was pale, her hand
pattly uplifted, her form dilated in its slender might.—
She wore no shawl; her bright ringlets floated uncover
ed arouud her white face. .
"Yu shall come!" she continued, grasping th e ar m
of CI ra with her small, cold hands. -
i f
. CI a's lip grew a shade less bright at the impassioned
mann r of the young creature, whose hitter sense of
1
wrong and hearttessuese had sent her there to command
-that proud.being to obey; but she smiled coldly, and an
awired in a careless lone--
-"Aro yon not a little rude this evening, Miss Nellie?
em engaged, to-night, for gisite another affair; but I
have an hour to spare, end if any one is dying and wishes
to see me, 1 will go. My sense of duty leads
me to To
gard the feeling of a dying friend. Who, is ill?" '
The lip of the young girl surted!with an expression of•
such infinite scorn that - ft stung Mares sneering breast.
*.Come and sea." she said, hastily; "do not wait for
your shawl; moments and precious:" and she almost
draggediTie glittering ceqqette from the apartment.
There was no sound in the sick charnher. The crais
of the fever bad 'passed, and, apparently dying, Ralph
Elliettlay upon hie couch. Mis eyes wore closed, his
taco was ashen, and his form motiordas; one could not
telt that be breathed. '
The doctor sat at the toot of the couch, with a tear in
Ida kind eyes The mother knelt by the side of the bed.
with her.' thee hid in ilar am)her hand clasping her '
son's. There was no sob or moan, but absorbed in her
still, deep grief she did not even know that Nellie had
Peri the room.. • " •
Suddenly the door opened, aml 4 *e yorrirg, girl strap! ,
Oared. and behind her cams Clara Sutherland. The
bright attire andljewided tresses 'end - ranged- cheeks of
'the beauttert girl lesittait Meeltineioul of plaCor id that
dim, sail apartment, amid pale' face, and 'dishevelled I
(or the airectipn she had once J mocked at; but the hand
locks. She appioached the bed with a trembling step, I she had clasped to her bosom grew neither feverish nor
and, for A moment, the pallor of her countenance made cold, It was' desperate game she plul - ed—she had
the Woe crimson of her-,elseek seem strangely, feverish s6orned her +s'
mirers—Crushell thdAllits ' 'that knelt at
and unnatural. The physician thought- that she would her shrine—And now when her bemair ' lading, her
faint with the sudden empttots caused by this itrange in- charms uncoUrted, she had sought lite L of thtrybny
Fusion on so solemn a scene, and would have sprung to she had troatid with ridicule, in the vain hope - that she
her side to prevent her falling; but Olt) recovered almost still heldbis affectiens, and he r own heart half wild With
instantly, and stood, with a Cold; proud fools, regarding his glorious beauty and his rare gifts. Lv
IN still features of the dying:t h
_"Y ou sbal be answered in one moment,.. was e
At length the mother raised her face from tho,couch, calm reply of al ph, as she ceased her passionate story
and as her eyes fell on the form of Clara, a moan of help- of love.;.and putting away her hands which clasped hie
less anguish came from her lips, and she murmured, in, a knees, be Jeff the apartment. In a moment he returned.
low, reproachful tone, fraught with sufferings
.. ' with Nei ll & ltright, And beautitul and happy by his side
" Why have you come now, Clara Southerland, with The cm of the two rivals
:net in wonder.
that beautiful, mocking face,' to smile at the death of your ..N e llie,sly sweet wife, tell Clara Sutherland wheth
victim? Have you no respect for the anguish of a moth- er f dare lov her," said Ralph. smiling mockingly upon
or's heart?" the unhappy Fenian , who uttered a low shriekr disap
"l came because I was commanded," was the cold re- pointment, m ortification and anger; and after bet too't
plyi t'Your niece insisted on my presence here—for out of the faiiiting fit into which she fell, mode is v .- um
~
what reason Ido nut understand; unless your eon, num- dignified retreat from the 'scene. . i ~...
-'+ —1
boring me among his friends. has sentfor me to bid him The boy-lOLver-_. L. V
had an innocent revenge.
farewell. But if my presence is not pleasant, I will wil
lingly withdraw, having an engageinent of a more lively
nature."
At the sound of Clara's voice, a slight shudder paned
over the frame of the boy; his brow contracted. and his
lips parted, ns if with an effort to y speak.
"Mocker!" burst from the lips of Nellie, "away! away!
I deemed that this scene might influence your fortune-:-
might preyent the sacrifice of others at the altar of year
vanity! /tut I mistake you-1 pray you to leave us—your
presence is burdensome!"
The dMit eyes of the haughty girl flashed fire—in her
passion, she forgot the sacredness of the scene,
"Did you bring me hero to insult me, Miss Elliott?---
Verily. lam well repaid for My charity! And you, mad
am-41 is very mature! that you should love your child;
but / am too sensitive to ridicule. and too well aware of
my power to make a better choice, than to wed a little
boy, forsooth, that he desired it."
A gasp` quivered over the lip of the invalid: and the
doctor arose. and taking the arm of the excited girl, led
her from the room.
The face of the boy was yet more pale, when tho three
gathered again around 'the bed.
Bid Ralph Elliott did'not die. .
Five times the roses that clambered ovei , the gothic
arches of the Elliott mansion ; tied covered Re walls with
bright blossoms. and laded tlitN):withatiieet perfume--
five times the violets hod peepe4 n p from the milt' and
looked timidly down into the mirror of the , spriug.'while
making their 'new-year toilet--since the time that Ralph
rose up from like bad ;of Blames's'.
' The 'mien were still - bloseorning on the. wall, and the
violets drooping/bY the spring; and the soft. warm air was
full of dreamy murmurs and quivering shadows from the
old elm (tees, whose new. green leaves', were waving its
the glow of sun'-set, as Nellie passed down through the
mossy walks of the gardeh, to her favorite .seat beneath
the tree that bent over the spring. Her pretty hand was
busy, nestle passed along, pushing aside the branches of
ale rose-bushes that skirted the path. and gathering all
the Seeefiludii that had nestled hi the shade with dew in
their bosoms. By the time she had reached the tree, her
maimed twining .her fragrant treasures in a glowing
visa.. wientrotty nee inns- fingoss reirott . i'lll thorn togoth.
or, and a beautiful smile deepened on her critnson cheek'
as she completed her fairy task. Were the roses and rho
viotels any less bright that year than they had been 'five
:dimmers before? Certainly not. Neither was Nellie,
darliiig little Nellie. any more faded. any less bright—she
was only an hundred tiMes more beautiful—she was
more womanly—her tresses were darker, her eyes deeper,
her brow more holy, her smile more eloquent, her yoke
mare thrilling. Ralph had been gone all this time.--he
was far away in another clime, winning fame by Ids pas
sionate muse, end weaving a wrouth'of laurel over the
ashes of the passion.flowent that had burnt upon his
young brow. And to Nellie it had.been left to comfort
and bless, With her bright presence, the lonely heart of
Ralph's mother—that gentle woman, who had taken the
friendless orphan under her roof, and given her a name
and a home and kindness. What if Nellie was some
times sad. and wept over the darkness of on unreturnod
affliction? Her heart was ' naturally all eunshine,and the
tears oilier sorrow sparkled like gems in the light of her
spirit.;--it was enough for her to be pine and faithful, and
deep the jewels of her soul [night and beautiful, if him
';life loved should ever learn their worth and seek for
them:
They were expecting Ralph home that very evening—
and no wonder the crimson on Nollie's amok was so
deep, as she placed the wreath upon her tresses, and
bent over the little. spring to mark the effect. Ohl it. was
beautiful—those coal, green leaves kissing her fair fore
head, and those bright buds nestling among her curls—
and all drooping so prettily to one side of her lovely
head.
**Nellie:"
The young girl sprang to her teL Cousin Ralph was
before her—not the bright, beautiful; daring boy of days
ione by—but a pale, intellectual and exceedingly baud
some man, with proud, glorious eyes, manly form, and
calm, polished demeanor. Nellie forgot to speak, M. even
to extend hor little hard in welcome; and Ralph tem, was
silent fur a moment; but his deep eyes wore on Id 7 r f a ce,
masking the eloquent color mount to her cheek, and the
quiver other long, drooping lashes.
••You know we are cousins; don't you, Nellie?" ho
said, puttin his arm around hor and drawing her to h a
bosom. -
The young girl looked up to answer him, and met his
warm lip quivering oti 6r forehead.
"1 !lava thought of you„ dear Nellie," he said, "for
the Met two years that I hove been gone-1 have read
our sweet lettere—l havo pictured your lovolinees—and
I have come home to tell you how well I have learned to
love you. You know all abort my past folly--tell me,
then, if you have not forgotten me—if you love mo even
as well as you did once. Whati will you not say a word,
Nellie T—look tip then, let tae road your oyes,"
'Thorn eyes were brith-full of eloquent tears When she
raised them op; and pulpit was a poet and knew what
they meant. So be pressed her claim, to his bosom, and
thrilled her ear with whispered blessings and tow words
of tenderness till the tears were dried on her glowing
cheek. '
..Ital.ru--Balph Elliott!" exclaimed Clara Sutherland,
as sho,aank at hia feet where ho ant in the dim, pleasant
library, "have I forfeited every claim to your affection—
do you hear no more thelove you , once proffered
I know it is not womanly frit me to eeekyoU thus—but if
you knew how bitterly I Italie repented the refusal of
your passion. you Would pity me, and gira again What I
so foelialtly alighted. fa it not proof eriougkof my love .
that I scorned all others and waited patiently five years
for your return? I By the suffering, you once endured, by
the love your once gave to .me. ten me - if you wilt qo
mine?—seet I am at your feettY • ..
- A pleading smile was on the face of the paselonate
wo4Wit. hei dark isYeis were lifwttup With, avert;
eloquent look to his , face. her veluptiouto - form was
hoWed doWn before him—bat the color of his thettli did
not assns. his pulse did"not beat one dumb .faster—she
could raWno etpreialow of lore 'Or scorn' WPote liis face.
With liairnlug and paselonati ferrOr she spin pleaded'
BM
I=l
A !THOUGHT FOR WINTER
A bountiful harvest has filled our barns with grain, and
Autumn h et i shed its rich friiite upon us in profusion.---
AU the productions of the earth. which this season fins so
plentifully repaid , the' labors of the husbandman. are
gathered and garnered.' Already stern Winter is upon
us with his float, snow and biting winds, and while we
sit by the bla zing i hearth, listening to the storm, or wrap
ped in wool and fur. rtlare the cold without, jet us remora-
her there ar those about us, upon wheats. unprotected
bodies that storm an}l cold fall in all their violence. Lot
him, who tie+ from the tah'e where hie inner man has
been comfo4ed, think of the many who are at that mo
ment sufferibgfrinn the gnawing' of hunger. Theeo arc
the thougbhi which must enter the minds of eV( ry one,
in whom is a spark of bumanity. But let :tot the thought
pus unheeded. or turn into a selfish congratulation of
your fortunri. Look about among your neighbor" on
whom the blessings of Providenee have not been bestoseed
with so liber4l a hand. See if there is not some one whom
; ,
you can blest/. bythe bounty it is in your power to distri
bute. Is thdre no family, whose supporter has been pro
vented by the.ltand of disease from providing ngnitist the
approach of ender: where you can shed gladness by a
few bushels of potatoes or a begot grain. that will never m
'be missed fr mTo full barns? A load of wood or coal.'
I
,
a joint of inlet when your fatted ex is killed may give
comfort end /import to some neighbor and , make you ,no
poorer.. There are inn morable l i do charities each of us
may diimen+. Give then, and with no niggard hand.—
God hair not given us abundance) to waste in extrava
gance, or he 'n:l in avarice; but. th:tt we may mete out
kindness to there as he has to tie. {
But give n tin an erfogant spirit that makes the re
cipient feel li f ts dependence. Oise as friend gives to • a
friend, end tke Sense of your kindness will come with
double force.. Many refuse charity when tendered in nu
improper matinee, while they are in worul want; for the o
is a feeling otpride in every mated bosom which revolts
at the assuni' tion of superiority: Give then in thankful
ness, that y e are able to give. There is much good in
t k
small things, ad the loaf of bread you give to the star
. - Li t... 11.....- A ... .3 i• : -
Z1)7111Z1V trfeireVa i rkciattniii I t Ge time mat came
when yourself will need tho charities of the more fortu
nate. liesill there is a pleasureln being able to give
to the poor,
k n inward consciousness of right that Warms
the heart and4cheristica the better feelings of our nature.
The smallest Itict of charity comes back upon the givei
and makes hi spirit lighter. It is the true nature of Inm
to he benevoant. •
- . "The poorest ptior
o wowing n a wear) life,
can ktwty and feel that they have been,
',the fathers and thy, dealern-uv.t. •
bleasinge; have been kind to Buell,
indness„ fur the single enure,
e ell of us one human heart,"
Long for so!
When they.
Themselve i
Of eomo en!
As needed
That we h
n.—The following boauti
Attantzo
.en of tho charming irridoriko Bremer,
are from the
whose obsery tions might well become the rules of life.
so oppropriate are they to many of its pltsee: i '
Deceive no one another in small things nor in great
thingej One Ode, single lie has before now distutbod a
whole omarrio life. A small otiose he often .great e,on.
sequences. , old not your arms together andl act idle.
LaZinces is he Devil's cushion." Do 'not 'run much
f rom your hot e. One's own health is of more s orth
than gold. 1 1 , any a marriage, my friend, begins like a
snow wreatht And way? Because the married pal;
neglixt to be well pleased' with each Other after, Mar
t
m
tine as before Endeavor alwaye, my children , to please
ono another, ut at the same time keep God in yogi
thoughts. L a vish not all your lotto on to-day, for remern
ber that marri ge has its td-morrows , and its day after to
morrow,
in
morrow, too. "Sliare" as we may say "fuel for the win
ter." Consider my dangler what the word wives'expres
seal. The married woman is the husb Ind's domestic
faith; in her hand he must be able to confide house rod
Gandy, be able to entrust her with the key of his heart,
as well as the key of his eating room. His honor and
his home aro under her keeping—his well-being is in
her hand. Think of this: ' And yo'sons, be faithful hue
bands and good fathers of fondles. Act so that your
wives shall esteem and love you.
A GOOD DAUGHTER
A good daughter: There are other ministerifof love
more conspicuous than her, but nano' in which a gentler,
lovelier spirit - dwells, and none to which the heart's warm
requitals more joyfully respond. There is no such thing
as a cornparative,estituats of a parent's love for one or an
other child. There is little which ho needs to covet, to
whom the umlaute of a good child has been given. But
aeon's occupations, and pleasures carry him abroad, and
he resides more em ng temptations, which hardly permit
affection that is following him perhaps over half the
globe, 'to be mingled with anxiety, until the time when he
comes - to relinquish his father's roof for one of his own,
while a good daughter is the steady light of her parent's
house.
Her ideal is indissolubly connected with thnt of his
happy fireshig. She is hiermbrrtiug ,suniiiitt and his
evening star. Tito grace., vivacity, and tenderness of
her cox have their' place in the mighty sway which she
holds over his spirit. The lessons orteetirded wisdom
which he reads with her eyes. come to his mind with a
new churm? es blended with tho beloved. melody of her
voice. He scarcely knows weariness
,which her song
does not maker him forget, or gh;ons Which is proof against
the young brightness of her mite. She is the pride and
ornament of his hospitality; the gentle nurse of his nick
--
newt, nod the , constant ugent of those nameless, number
less acts of kindness which one chieflyenres to have ren
dered, beeauso they uro unpretending but expresaive
'Proofs of love—Ladio? Dollar IViTspajler. . -
rr Thero is a debating crab in Watervin c , Me„. w hi c h
for true° ,sutheenive nights has had under conaideration
the following question :—" Cad' an upright man be a
downright honest fellow?" The subject was most vigor
onitly 'fief/hied, but,Sotabblerdnd ingenio ns were the' reasons
on both aide s , that t here ssas itittifi , ote. They Will next
•,
discuss the : " When a house is btirnt: up; is,
it bnandown 1"` Iteres a chance for hair-splitting and
nice dislinCtiOn 1 We bops,. however. that the speakers
selliglntisttiettiPliptics t to *fib :winds. %Italie right sp an'd
'dikes' in On !latter:
Tilt UNSOLD Z.Ari'D£l.
The United States claim to ow tt more titan 1. 0 0b,000.000 agree of •
unsettled lauds.--Senatc Doc. 40& zxizth Congress, last Simplon.
A billion of acres of unsold land
Are lying in grlevious dearth;
And mill ions in the image of God'
Me starving all over the earthl
0; tell me ye ions of America.
Bow much useless:m[lam wortht
Ten hundred millions of acres good.
That never knew spade nor plough—
And a million of souls in ourgoodly land,
Are pining in want I trot;
And orphans crying for bread this day.
And widows in misery bowl .
To whom do these acres pt land belong? ,
And why do tiles thriftless Mr
Ahd why is the widow's lament unheard?
And stifled the orphan's cry!
And why are the poor-house and prison full,
And the galldwe tree built high?
Those million of acres belong to Man
Ana his claim 114—Oahe needs! .
Aud his title is signed by the hand of God—.
Our God, who the.ratien feeds.
And the starving soul oferich famished man,
• 'At the throne of Justice pleads:
•
Ye may not heed It. 3e Inalgbt3' men.
1
Whose hearts as no ks are cold—
But the time shall cot ten hen the flat of God
In thunder shall be told'
Fur the voice of the meat I AM both said
That tlie-land shall not be sold.';
TUX! ASBASEIXN.
I was on my way to in the fall of 13—.174
,was towards tho cold evenings In the first fall month,
when my horso stopped suddenly berm a respectable
house.
house, about four miles from
There was something stragno and remarkable in this
action of my horse, nor would he move a stop in spite of
hall my exertion to move him on. - -
1 determined to gratify him, and at the same time
strange presentnent which came over intl, a kind of sn
pernatural feeling Indisaribable, seemed to urge Moto.
enter. „ Having knocked, and requested to be conducted
to the l- yor gentleman of the house, 1 was ushered in
to a neat 'Wag room, where sat a beautiful girl of, about
twenty yea of age. She rose at my entrance, and
seemed a hal surprised at the appearance of a perfect
atrai4ger.
In a few worts I related to her the strange conduct of
my hor44, and hi stubborn opposition to my mind. "I
am not,” [ observed. ”supersitlons. nor i dined on tho
side of the metaphysical doctrines of the o who .support
the in; but the strange., unacounteble fee ing that crept
over me in attempting to pass your house induced me, td
solicit lodgings for the' night."
" We are not," she replied, "well gua
but in this part of the country we have lit
'mistier% for we have never heard of any
we aro surrounded by gond neighbors, at
self we are at peace with them. Alit t
couserpeenee of my father's absence. I. re
some, and if it were not borderji on th.
ing; for similar reclines had been mine e
from what cause I canndt imagine."
The evening passed delightfully away;
ess was intelligent and lovely; the hunts
that on looking at my watch I was aurpril
it was eleven o'clock. This was the Mgt
and by twelve every inmate of the hewn
asleep, save myself. I could not
floated across my brain and I lay twisting
the bed, in ull "the agony
. of sleepless
clock struck one; its last vibrating sout
died away. when the opening of a shuttel
ing of a sash in one of the lower apartni
me some one was entering the license
agora person jumping from he w:ndow
snd then followed fight and altno.st
ono ascending the steirwey.
sontimian
I slept in the room *adjoining the ono
lady: mine was next to the staircase; )
along the gallery slow anclicautious. 11 1
tots and slipped on part of niy clothes, dete l
to the movements tieeiningl!,- mysterious i l l
sound of the sups stopped at my door-4 ,
/13?31 applying the ear to the key-hole, A 1
ing codvinced me the Villain was listoni
tienless, the pistol firmly grasped. Not
nor a nerve was slackened, fur I f e lf, as i
!acted me oat as the instrument to effect
The person now slowly passed on, an,
'approached the door of my bed-chambe;
I now went by instinct, or rather by t.
sound; for issation no I hoard his hand
one'daior; mine seized on the other—a
lowed this movement; seemed toil'
and awaited the repetition; it4anto not
might have considered it the echo of h
heard the door open softly—l also open.
very. moment I stopped into the ant
glimPseora tall man enteriny the lights
young lady.
I softly stepped along the entry, en.
chamber; through the ltatf-upened do
eyes into the room. No object was vis
tained victim to a midnight assarein,
i•elvon'. A regoool for at that moment , .
ing Mock approached the tied, and ne
and Desdemona more uaturelly represen
particular Scene of the •iinutertal bard'al
I WOI now a sutTetmo; my heart
throat ukinott to suffixation, my oyes
mode a bound into MD room.
The black villainn•had ruthleasli dr
covering off the bed. when the sound o
him to • return. Ile started, and, thu
stood itazing opt each other a few seco
fira--fury was depicted in his c l oantana
spring towards me, and-,lhts nest mome
the floor.
The noise of the pistol aroused the
started'ln the bed; and seemed an 6
clouds emerging from her downy bed
BEM
The first thini that presented inset
riyself standing near tier, with a piste
..oh, do riot nourtiffme!—tako al
not Warne, air!"
The servants note' rushed wa:
wretch twined out to be a 'smarmy al:
I had the providential o f I
the worst of fates. who in lifter-Icm°. c
and related to our children - her niirac
the bold attack of a midnight assassin.`
Etnni OWL von. Hisict.r.—As th •
stage wore about to dine at die. Singfc.
i
guests took. up the pepper box front a
sifted it over allot? piece of rolostiati be 4
lien:Lair observing• it, deliberately took
his pocket:olnd bbspriniried its, content
saran pions of beet "Sir."'id , the i'
re
do you moan?" "Why. env 4'stippoi
Obpper..t love do snuff:''' 1110 table I
roar. andvvilliugly consented o comm II
,i
(or the arausettient the mans r pf Ito 1.1
. ' • .L . .
NUMBER 32
irf a. ncommr
lll=M2==l3l
; my young host.
. flew so quick,
ed to find that
al for retireing;
was probably
( strange visions
! and turning on
I.uspense. The
d had scarcely
. and the rais
cnts, convinded.
noise followed
still to the floor
l oisitess step of
I o
oceziple by tfis
the als came
ad seized a pis
- ined to listen
suspicious; the
en followed one
d a low breath.
lg. I stood mo
t muscle moved,
heaven had sp
lits prupose.'
le conveyance of
rasp this latch of
Reap 'Note fol.
heard the sound
MI teas still; he
own noise, I
d mine, and the
, I caught the
d chamber of the
epptSlefted - dui
I
glanced my
i ble save the cur
ud he. gracious
tall. fierce look
• or were Othello
ed—at team that
ouception.
. welled into my
. cracking. as I
poirfrcrnted. IVO .
I dt; hie eyes shot,
0. He made a
t fay a corps ott
fair sleeper; she
gel of the white
to soar top to the
explained'. Tria .
•o froM Virginia.
siting one from'
(led me husband;
ions 3seatiei
paseenkerns of a "
ouse; one of the'
teetOV. and nicely
F A French gen.
lie snuff' bet titlibi
liketViedever the
ket party, "what
. ear. you love As
ere thrown, to* as
Ito their - roast - toel
rea dicsehonid,
13
ded,'tia true;
to to fear fro=
.sing benr us;
i d I flatter my
is evening; in.
lUnuaallylona
a you arrived:-
I as cantionsli
gg.d part of the
my foot caused
o - her - view was
*ct aij hand.
you c4nuot, will