The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, January 06, 1859, Image 1

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"WE 30UJ OURSELVES TO NO PARTY TIELL T, DOES NOT CARRY TAE-=BAG AND Sala' STEP TO TAE MUSIC OF THE UNION." -
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_ - -____ _ _ . - „... „... •
bEkRITSON, - P
glisteilancous.
•T H E
stress of aStollit's.
When Miss Catherine bad sealed her let
ters, she rose and called little Tib, her maid.
Immediately there bustled round the, partly
open door the quickest and brightest litti
servant ever seep. She was going out, f 1
clad she *as ad iu a little duffle cloak; her bop
—net was snug and rearm, and she bid a smal
basket on her arm.
"I think it has got colder since the morn
sing, Tib,"said. MitsCatheiina, as she - gill' ,
ered the lettersAegether . --'..rauch colder."
"Yes, 'ma'am— The frosty wind bites at
youraose like a.wolf; but I shan't minttit
the roads aribard, and I can rdn."
. "Do sot but first go upstairs, and fete
that dark blue Woolen handkerchief from m .
upper : drawer, - and that old boa ftoth ft ,
closet.
"1.,51A, A`am :" said . Tib,‘ guesing , the
intent,,"l'm warm enough, thank you, and .
running 'd makestrtc a deal warmer:"
A kindly ellake - of the head, and an Ml+
peratire ware of thediand, warned Tib that
her. mistress bidding must be done. So shut
went into - the bait, and ran up the great!,
carved; wairizcot Itaircase, and soon came
down again with lima:lke/chief and boa
These her mitFt4ess took,. and put the one over
bouner,ind the other round throat:
and wheit this was finished she referred to
Tib's errand:
"Get Sat b=on to put on what atatnys
necessary, and carJuil!!, - post.them;:ei they
are Christmas letters to friendi'Vil - itnit' here P
eighteen-pence, whivb will, fier#o2.4etrione
enough ; then get a pound of .r,.:andles "and
poun lof su:.r,ar ; c_ al: at the town library fo
the boa 1 *N:iS 't . o have and last thing . Ol
a smell pieee of r,a.4.infi-beef—say four or
See Oonnd: , —at Cobb'. slup, and tell both
hint awl licit that thev shall'have their stoi
counts as soon ns l helr from Mr. Hutt,
the CC:111 7:..?.n.. "
'01) -dear; ma'am," spoke 'rib; "they. bet
said, when T was there last, that you WaSLIt
to trolltde'yOUT:eleat all about the little Top
owed 'ern ; hut' con - was to .base everything
y.na needed ; indeed, old. Mr:" obi, quite
Yanglre4 at the' thought id' your 'sending a
message shout 'nob a little bill of fifteen shi
lings. Lie said if it was fifteen xr fifty pounds
it would he the same to him t for could
ba just rs* wi.leorse to the bes . . joint out
siMp d, thonreh you didn't i we a
shii
tiny
7 :7he 'peal:'' are all i'''ery goof to mein
these alAt, o tro sai 2 l Catherine.
"And hesitated ' nont
Fou l:-ire 011 . 4, 11,110.1 d t rtorn , and eurrants.+•
e t ..:Fkr.£ Jt won't gr,fat -arid
it .rson't Ci.ri, , ina--141e. ""his Catherine, if
you dot:. h se a 1 tiddia;."
10, T:hby, no Chni.timas ari!d
me sad things side-by.siqe.
Were yot3 to be at- home to morrow weld
hare - one; her voar!a.dd aunt -has ac tje
ask con, you'd I.v , ..ter *go. Now :make laste,
you'll not re ;eh ,he town in tine for psi;
andTh ,
you t..± quick Ock keep
the tea hot" for you."
..1
At thisTsu had somet Ling to say, it might
be seen ;'s• ;II sile_vent ..'onward to the paildr
emer, when there, and be face was
- !..dden. Ole faltetinglv, "if you &ens i le.
ma'am, Mrs. Tiny% ley said if the night was
cold, I might j.it as well s.tepin and take a
cup :hare . _
"Nothing asked MisssCranbroo l k,
wilt\ sinice. -
111 t Ivit. Joe. might see me
home ; fur the road, with - so' much wood .'
&alit it, was "aihi like, at ntlit."'
'This is grst lima you'and I haxeft-tind
it Out. Td. , , thou g h we.have tired three yeArs
together. But ! ,)e is a good lad; and so I'll
he no hiqrance—oalr, Tihby, you mustii't
leare sour mistress till these shadows are, a
mr;ne."
ta-g oi n mist:,' ri*WATAI
wish a chocked voice . ; "I'M stirir:o4,-:Tr, a a
E con needn't he fretting xhouttt.'"'„`:'
Tib hurried from . -tlie botise - ;
crossed the quaint, 'precincts. of the ancient
aid
so into the wiaxlland'whichslay opposite, and
by %Lich the road was shortened to the
town.
-ealberine; like her little maid,. hai. :opt
some points for hesitation; for, no sooner brad
: - ehe watched Ttb across, the road, than the
twirled after her, and opening the rude gate
-- which led into tLu wood, went onward a f l e ar_
Laces., till she stood - beneath the shadow lo:
some bullies,
.Where ter low call . met Tib's nr.
• - "I)Jn't come hack, Tib; lout you can. 4
,_
at; Cohh's er Bolt's how. Mr. Farquhar
and if he is batter. - ,There now, go a
that's aIL", -
1.. She did hot let the little maid see
Ifiree, even if sheeoutcl have done so , ib
boar shadows of the boughs, but went
-slowly back to the Old school-house of
.....fahn:s as though it was summer's evening
as though no bind blew icy from the no
Once mute the old wainscoted ball,
repaired to the kitchen, where afire bu
brightly, and where little Tib had left Oi l
in exquisite daintiness ; and there she set
' tea-things, and carried them into the pars
and niadeitea, though it was yet early,
sat over it lost in. deep thought, tilrnoth
but the firelight shone through the 'shad
- of the Moon. Then she took it forth, and
it bny, and laid supper for old Kit (the
that milked the cow and attend - ad to
land and garden,) Then lighting her I •
and sweepittg the parlor-hearth,she sat rici
to her needle—her rarely-plied smedle,ez
-upon (titters of love of this sort, which
that Of fabricating:lib a cellar,for her Ch
txtrisirox. As -this was near completion
worked diligently, though pre-oeien
Pfed I
•-• sari and weary - thoughts, her soul strugg
thitrugh some.hidden darkness of this me i
-life, as a dismantled ship throtign a dark
- -stormy sea.
What bitte.r things, at, best, ire hu
i'e,stliralsi,how Strew u with the wreck
broken bones! how , chequered with the visi
.ofthings that might have been, and
were! How countless are the- men
. women who hide such' wrecks end visiu. l
their souls! and how! worse than al!,
Witimen, who sit by solitary fires. co hack
on these steps of shipwrecked Time.!"
In the i neanwbile ,little . Tib made her
way thr6ugh the inileland-i'dia/f of pie J
e s q ui old re` (mi. I.' to the little town'—a
B L I 5 . 14 ER,
tittle town, of one main street,and - orre or two
smaller branching from it., ThOugh on this
small scale, there was a tiny Market-hsruse,
end p'grand range of ancient buildings,called
'Eirtg Edward's School ; and 'every house
seemed to hale a garden; and, fibally, being
situated in one of the nearest southern boun
ties, die tittle town wok not mote than.thlrty
or forty miles froti Loudon •, yet, in a coun
try rich With rineie . nt parks and woods, it
was as . quiet and remote as the I way around
for miles was , picturesque' with English land
scape
The 'post office was at klittle draper's shop,
wherein Deborah Snibsen, this Wdstress, was
helpiriediVers customers to half -yards of
calico and yards of ribbon; harrying in so
'doing, he post-hour was adhand.• See
! ing Tib she nodded to hir, and bid hor sit
' down..? but more calico, ind;riblicirtbuistoMors
arriving, and the itexorable hour bloie upon
striding, she bid them wait whilst. she attend
ed to the letters. Taking those 'rib had laid
upon the, counter, she proceeded to weigh
land place on them the necessary stamps..
"Well, 'rib, and how's Miss j€ranbrook 1"
'asked Nris. Deborah, as she prciceeded in ber
duty—for everybody in this Ittde town knew
hide till, and that she came iron the -Old
school-House at St. John's. i
.13ut•pc&orly," replied Tib. "liar spirits
go down . , now the winter days are so long and
siill.7 .
. . .
'Ay. and 1 Eon% ponder atj it," said Deb.
orab indignantly ; "she's had enough, and
got enough still, to .ufake pore heart. I
only wonder when these folks up in London
will settle matters about the old school-house
at St. John's r
_ "rm sure I wonder When echoed more
than one customer ; and little trib sighed.
For a Minute or so no nee spole; then, as
Deborah began to handle the fetters Ti! had
laid down, she-came to one or more heavier.
than the rest—enclosed, iu fact, in official en
'elopes of large size.
".N aw I dare say," said Deborah, Weighing
the largest in her hand, "that I this contains
lomeibing nice as a,Chtistmar remembrance
—as half 'em-do, one ma} be! pretty,,certain,
'-f:ur I never knew Miss Cranbrook to forget a
friend." • - , ,
"No, arnnhe ilotit," replied Tib; enthusi.
astically 7 "theuglli I can't say as folks re
member A rr half enough. Bit I should just
like-you to see inside that letti , r, for there are
two as beautiful pair of worked sleeves as you
ever seed. They are for the daughters of
Dr. Musgraye, who were so kind to missis
when she was in London in tl+ spring. That
other letter has a collar in It for somebody
el4e; fOr, thilugh she don't like her needle,
wisais tannin, as AO 6271 P, b 4 always sitting
at her books; ts, zito rneaT:un as l• - e 4 ...raatiL.
such stray minutes to her Mends; and she
don't'forget one of 'em. I eanl tell you, Mrs.
Saibson,' quoth little Tib, rising, like a sing
ing.hird, higher and higher in her note of
praise ; "fur we been making old Kitt two
new Altts; and others that slut nigh as old,
or nigh as good, have ber-n,thought of too,-
I'm sure; though it ain't for 'etn hardly to say
Deborah stoned, and looke'd up tenderly
into the hooded face. 'lf the mistress of St.
John's is good, so is the little maid; she
thought. She now came to the last letter—
the• taaallestof all—and she read , half aloud,
half to iwrsclT, the superscription :
lionmey, Egv, Tr:nity Qollege, Cambridge'
`And pray my dear,' she added, 'how is Mr.
Olive: I.tourney and has Catherine heard of
late
'1;o, she-ain't, answered 'lib ; 'and it frets
her sadly. Sheerer' risks this letter; think
ing that if he is not at Canibiage it may be
ient, ott 1 for lie has room's there still.'
*Well, she needn't -fear of gratitude there,
if all-accounts are true. And, bless me 1 to
think Iris father only kept a little druggist's
shop is title, town, and he What be is—for
they du saY brain and ed'eation is wader
' full . A gentleman told me so not a long
while ago. Ves,it was a poor little druggist s
I shop , just yronod the comae.; and the lad
went a good while to St. John's.'
Nevertheless;tretioialt Suibson, check your
hwonder ; tt is out of poor shor, , and poor
I houses of many kinds, that much marvel
working intellect comet—hot out of places - or
halls, or from - the titled...ranks; be very sure
of that. ,
Theietters being safe now; in the post-bag,l
little Tib rose to go; Ifebatab begging to be,'
respectfully remembered to:her Mistress, and I
that her thanks be conveyed! for a basket A
pears sent the week before. ;
• Tib wasJurning froin thel door; when the
post mistress called her Lack.
•Alt, I neisrlv forget it ; but just tell your
mistress that there wis a gsintleman at the
'Crown,' the other day;and he made great in
quiries,
both there and about the town, tic to,
the old place at St. John's' as well as. of her
self. 'Nobody could learn h ' iti purpose, though '
Tom, the waiter, says he thinks he came from
Olfcird, by ~chat be dropped. And Tib, tell
your _triitres, as well, that Mr. Rogers, the
steiardgas down, from eutt m l Place, the.
other day. and told me Unit Sir Richard is
corning by England for a, sboil time, as the
Qusee lids made }dill ainbatiiiaor to a differ
! eat country from where he is now."
Laden with her news, Ti& went,
She nos I.roceeled to tiie little market
' house,in a room above which was kept a fair
! sized fibril): of ancient books,-bequeathed—
through a long,coilise oft 4 eara—by sundry
town folks, for the free Itselorsiich as might
like to read .theni Few wire the applicants,
so that the keeper . thereof bad an easy life of
it; for, with the exceptioi of the learned mis
tress-at St. John's,, stud a Afew neighboring
p ar sons, a custotner knoskA rarely at the
nail-stddded door. Opening . this, - aid as
cending a little, crooked stair-ease,' Ttb pre
sented herself,iu a mipute sort of ante cha . mber,
wherein ..old Jerry . Clamp: the custodian, and
his wife were getting their, t . From what
ever cause derived, .• the old midi bad a.'very
acrid natures and, on occisions of festivals,
such as this of Christmas, iihen mail at !Bait
assume cheelfulness if theyleven de, not feel
it, Lis mood. was always
_lrelsly bitter: -And,
strange to stay,lldrs. Jerry shared his cynicism.
So, then litths Tib embed' him 'a happy
Christmas' aistisked for the book, be began
I to grew!.
• 'Happy Cbriettessr . he olacribtted ; 'don't
, wish it here, girl: This jai% the 'place. nor
the folks. Its all right enough, however, for
Isuch as hare lots of money , ; I ind . Tots to eat,
And .lot todrink. !hi I that sio't bere.
And ac to the book, it's a reiy , .little.one—a
I nice little bandy book •to ciits Dil l s winter's
t
night lik.t,hit-T
lie took ,up the guttering candle as be
spoke, and going into an adjacent room, re
turned directly with an enormous folio,which
be delivered to the little maid with a grin.
There,' he said, 'the road and the 'lad will
do,'
71
-can do a good deal for my 'ynisiis; quoth
Tib, 'but I don't think I can carry_ this. But
please sir, I know a nice young man, who'll
be coming•our way, I dare say, to-night,.and
he'll call for it; please sir, and bring it.'
*Very well,' growled the cynic. ‘veiY s tiell,
only mind he ain't a minute after eight, or
he'll find tke door closed. For I've got 'ipy
Christmas to keep—bread and water by the
light cif a rinshlight. Anitmind, young ' wo.
mat'; tell your mush, 'from me, that reading
Such books as this can lead but to a place 'I
won't name—though it's a very warm oat,—
ind Mr:Dodd, the vicar. as'lie was hire to
day, says so. Ha! ha! pretty Things ha'
been taught of St. John's, if all accounts be
tine.'
Tib, indignant at this, was about to reply,
but Mr. Clamp slammed to the door, and she
bad to creep heir way 'down into • the street.
Nor wan she disticssed at Mr. Clamp's pros
pective supper of bread and water, such be
ing a pleasanifction of his cynicism ; for he
was a mice; and could dine on - banksnotes, if
be so willed.
In a few rtrinutes little Tib stood in Bolt sinesits her brain.
the - grocer's shop. That worthy.being some- 'You see, Tib,' - she said; that your old aunt
what at' leisure, and prone to chat, servedis a miserly sort of body, and would be glad
I
her with what she asked for, and then in- enough, I dare say, if you did not go to
quired if she had forgotten matters for the 1 dinner ; eel so, to be there a little before
pudding. - - . i tea-time would do very well. Now, as I had
Please, no sir,' answered Tib, ruefully, 'the'' a goose sent me yesterday, I intend to roast
eld aunt as has got a bit of money has sent it ; and if so he you would dine here between•
for tree this Christmas, and ruissie will make twelve and one, why -we could put by the.
me go; so she ain't a-going to have a pud- nicest-phi, with potatoes and greens, and
ding, and that is just what it is.' . apple-sauce. I could-make a little-pudding,
"But she must,' 'said Bolt; "the mistress too, in a shape; for you know lem a gelid,
at John's must never go without a pudding. cook ; and we could keep all hot z by placing
- Folks that don't taste Christmas fair ain't no the dishes over a coupib of milking-pails fill
luck in the new year, and so you must make. ed With boiling Water, as I shall have plenty
the pudding, Tib, and I'll find the fruit and in the back-hoese copper . . And lliett, my
sugar.' ,' idea is, ifJoe •colsld borrow his master's light
'I can make a pudding, sir,' saaTib, tai- Wilt and drive you to your aunt's; you 'cOUld,
umphantly ; "but you see, sir, theclesitnissis i on your watsturn down the lane to St. Johli's,
rosy-be would not boil it ; for, ten to one she : and there you could steal into the back door,
won't even roast the beef that I shall take ' and put the little dinner neatly on a tray, and
home from Cobb's, but sit in deep sadness ,_! carry it into the parlor,"nnd sal, 'lf you please,
be the fire all day ; - par tik-lar if she don't 1 ma'am would you accept this dinner from
get letters this morning.' 1 little Tib 1'
' "Tib,' said the kindly groe,er, emphatically, ;• ' 'Oh! it's a nice thought; said the girl, her
and clutching a pound weight that. lay hard eyes sparkling with joy at the idea of giving
by, as though for demonstration, "a why to I pleasure to her mistress 1 but she is so inde
duty is-always to be - found. So you must 1 pendent that she will accept favors from no
get up early, and make the pudding, and I one. And. I should not like to offend her, or
put it on to boil before you go; and by the hurt her feelings in any way.'
time the finds it, it may be done. SoThere's I 'You won't; for the is too good and two
the fruit, of which, it a word is said, you can kind to mistake yotir meaning. So I w..: 1 d
tell it'll be -all right in the bill—ha '. ha !' try-tliat I would.' ...
And, amused at 015
_own Jose, si-t.e.t....iser it So Tit; acquieecirili's, matters were so errang;
nigh(' be, the merry little
grocer weighed ed,as the .Velingeetefartt :sum that tier mistress
and papered his finest raisins and c he m i s es would not object to her dining -with Joe and
consul". .1 his mother. Mereover, just to give a col-
When these :were in the basket, be asked oring to the idei:.iint. (114 pielent was little
Tib-what fruit she liked most. Now it bap.. 1 Ilb's, the plums and other things were con•
petted sliat all little Tib's tastes had latterly ~ signed to Mrs. Throwley ; and Joe wren re
become merged into those of Joe ; and Lbeie- ! turning with the large book,and it being eight
fore, though her liking was for raisins, Joe's I o'clock, he and Tib set forth,as soon as some
was for figs, and so she modestly replied— I thing more in the way of refreshments had
'lf you please, figs, sir.' • I been ,partaken of. -
Whereupon Bolt papered a pound-of fige,l It was pleasant walking arrough the moon
and laid them, with a shilling, on the ' lit fiosty woods, with the hoar frost shining
I like silver en the great trollies, and the scarlet
counter. . I
'There-my girl, there they are, as , well as a ' berries, looking more scarlet •by the contrast.
shilling 'to buy a top-knot.' j When she got home, the little maid found
Tib cutirtseyed her thanks and prepared to ; the kitchen-fire.hrieht, aid h:sr mistress io
go. She wan closing the door,whert the gro- I the parlor, quietly reading; but•slte said little
cer, calling her back - a step.or two, Enid, 'My of her errands, till Joe had rested rind was
repents to your mistress, and a happy Christ-. gone. Then la carried in supper, and told
was day, in spite of all. And just say that I ?lir mistress what Mrs. Snibson had said a
some frosty morning soon, I shall he walking , bout the-return of Sir Richard Sutton to Sut
the way of the old school-house, and I will, ton Place ; and of 1110 visits and inquiries of
with - her honored leave, step in and have a the stranger from Oxford. Both[, eircunv
'chat abOut the school affairs; and that,mean- stances - seemed to surprise Miss Creel:lne.e
while, sheisn't to think a bit abOut the little much.
....
bill—it's frothing—itis nothing.' He waited Nut a : r ead, licaceer, *as said on either
till, the little maid had closed the dOor, and i slide with respect to Mr. -Farquhar, till Tib
then, he added. as if carrying on the sentence teeming in to make the report that the house
in c ontinuous breath, no mote it is. There I was safe, arid to wish her mistress good
are debts in this world that can alone be 1 night, she related what she had beard. To
summed up and paid in heaven, and - this is this, Miss Cranbrook made no reply; other
one. For didn't she teach my nephew Rich- 1 than an abrupt 'Good night;" so Tib closed
and noble things f Didn't she make him 1 the door, and went up to bed—there to find,
master in Latin and difficult figures, in spite , upon her little dressing-table, the lovely col
of bigotted trustees, who would have kept the 1 lar her mistress had. worked, for her Christ
poor town's lads to the Delectus and the tunas box:. .
~ . .
Rule of Three,' if they could. And throng's] For a long ti me after the little Maid hail
this knowledge be has become a well:kis& left the room, Catherine sat jest as thOugh
gentleman ; and so Heaven reward, hiir, for what she bad listened to had rendered hex
I cannot—l cannot—" and the old man I incapable of motion. Eventually, however.
dropped a tear. 1 she arose, 'and -- unlocking an - old-fashioned
True:l3olt,our soul's growth can only come eseritorie, took thence a letter. This she
by knowledge i and, therefore, glorification I brought tothetable; and re-Seatingherself, read
be to those who hold the divine cup to all' lit over an d over agiiiti ; then it dropped
who are athirst I from her hand,' flutte - ring to -the , floor and
When Cobb, the butcher—and very fat
and Falstaff-Jike he yras—heard little Tib's
order for the beef, he whetted his knife on his
steel, and laughed to such a prodigal amoutit
as to bring his ruddy complexion to the color
of mulberries; . where upon as he leaned against
a bench, quite out. op breatb—though still
whetting his knife—a liule shutter opening
from a - comfurtable parlor was slid back, and
a kindly voice cried—
'Cobb, my dear, hush I remember the apo
plexy.'
At as early a date as begnight,the butcher
attended to this injunction ; and then, re
pairing.to the little cavity, whispered some.
thing. At this, a spruce little woman made
her anpearance.and the butcher give' his knife
a finai wbet,and sent it like a sword into a largo
sirloin, and cut off a portion, whicib certainty,
at ibe least did not weigh less than ten
pounds. - lie made feint to weigh it,and then
brought it to 'fib's basket. _
'lt is a very largo piece, sir,' said the little
maid, 'RAJ missis said' only four and five
pounds.'
'We always give good weight at Christ
mai, lass—Oh ! oh ! and here Cobb went
*pie again, add his little wife, pUnching
him on the back, cried— '• j
aMinir the apoplesy, dear.'
So, as the good old butcher would say no
==fore; Tib was obliged to put the beef into
the 'basket; and 'when Mrs-Cobb bid sent
her reapectP, and expressed her hope
that when Mite Cranttrook came to town
she would honor 'her by stepping io,and last.
mpg the Christmas ale, little Titr went, first
asking, bOwever; the point relating to her
mistreat' last words: • -
'Why, Mr:Farquhar is very bad—so bad
that be cannot see another week. My boy
heird this When he was up at the house this
„. - „
I At this moment some customer entered, so,
r with this reply to bsr question she departed.
11 04/ 0 TtlrdWlP4 ' f MIA* was in one of -the
MONTROSE., PA., JANUARY 6,
little off-streets or lanes, and just where the
pretty rural town merged into the wooded
country. /She was a widow, and earnedber
bread by the. culture of a field or.two,and by \
keeping a cow ;_ and her .eldest boy, Joe,
worked nadir thasieward at Button Place—a
noble hallos; about the - distance of a mile
h ow the town. She had two other boys be
side Joe, and very glad she was tbrit,he, who
was so good a sou, had set hie heart-on so
good a girl as little Tib ; though she was a
poor orphan, and one who bad known much
I of the world's adversity, till Miss Cranbrook
bad befriended her. So, thinking that Tib
would come totes on this Christmas eve, she
had made great preparations at cake, and
muffins, and slices o 1 ham—set in the picture
e r a c l e anly kitchsp, the best tea things, rind
a rousing fa°. But, before Tib could see
these for herself, she was met by Joe ; 'who
kissed the frost off her face, and let her in in
great triumph. Then, after a good deal was
said all round, the tea was made and Up
muffins brointht into requisition. . -
Alter talking about mtny '
things—espec
ially about Sutton Place, where Mrs. Throw.
ley had once lived servant—little Tib related
her perplexity about the • podding. Mrs.
Trowley listened, but-said ; but when
Joe bad started off to the librarv,fur the book,
she broached what had been meanwhile pas
lay. Tbeh pressing her face into her hands,
and her hinds 'CI ...turn upon the table, she
sat till firinto the night, with all the weight
of o i lies aliol cf the desolation of this Christ
mas a ie.
When Tib went to her mist n•ss in the morn
ing, she found her far from well; so she made
breakfast, and took it to her. After this,Miss
Cranbrook seethed better, and rising, came
down' her pleasant parlor, wherein the
brightest of fires shone and Tib (l 1
the Way of allowing it was a festive time)
had tlressed with holly nod Christmas flowers.
the latter then came in to propose to stay at
home, ati her mistress was not well , for she
had Already told lies :of the proposal to (line
with Joe and his mother,and to go afterwards
to the old aunt's—a plan to which Slits Cran
brook had assented, and 'thought good." She
would therefore listen to nothing Tib would
say, but bid her hasten to get dressed and,i
go.
'I would _rather be alone to-day, Tit, she
said ; 'much rather. And if I need to dine,
I can boil au egg, or take a crust of bread
and cheese; to make - haste and go.' ,
Tib,lsaving her own reasons forlerit wishing,
to press the subject of dinner, said nothing I
More; bui,dresong and putting'ou the pretty
collar, went down to take her leave.
'lf itu please, rna'm,l shalt leave my warm.;
shawl and basket till about two o'cioek,when '
I will call for them ; fur Joe will drive this '
way.'
'Very Tib 'shall be glad to-lee
you'
As soon as her little maid was grine,aathe•
Ana put on her garden-boPlet,ind went forth
to walk up and down the' old,:terraca, from
which there was a lengthened 'levier( tits marl
Efere she remained tilf be saw the postman
approachkng front the little town ; thee, open
- ing the eirstic . wieket, she went forth to meet
him. But he; did not begin to look at his
letters, or unbind the string which fastened
I them : so, even before she was-clestv
859.
her heart died dOwn. She had expected
ter,; had.ao prayed for them; her Christmas
would be so desolate without .
'No letters, Smith P . •
'No, ma'am, not one, leastways, that is all
the post.missiskave me.' • '
Ctharine lookeil them through. Every
netbor. of hers, in the cottages and farms
around,,seemed to,be blessed by the teptler
rememt4ances of Cabers; only she waster-
gotten—she to whom existence hadbetin a
perpetual samitce, in all- i °stances. save one;
and even in that, peships, if tightly Viewed !
But hiding her'dblappointment, as initial, by
an effort of her ilon will, she chatted cheer
fully to the old roan c bid LTm 'call on the
morrow, when Tib Would lie at home, and
have some ale. She their, feiehing the wicket,
iiished him good day, IMtl . returned to the
house. Here once mons In the parlor, she
sank down in her chair and' 'wept aloud.
"Forgotten—forgotten& Ahme I" she said,
"Even by my dear Andrew, above . all!"
And tite morning, which had bean hitherto
so bright, began to he darkened by descending
snow ; so, that the day sympathize as it
seemed, with the terrible depression ishich
lay upon her soul I It was weakness, all this
seeing her noble life, and the harvest cotnii:
of the immortal seed she had sown; but low
in estate, from many causes, her spirit (usual
ly so strong and full of faith),was bowed by
the seeming desolation of the time and-scone.
In the Mein tune it woeld.hai.e been de
lightful to have watched al!. little Tib's pro
gresses: how. Joe met her Oien, not far into
the woods; bow ho made pretext of timing
away the frost, just as he had done the eight
before; how in due time they feedlod the
town; bow dinner was ready early; how
capital the goose and pudding both proved,
and how the nicest part-of the wise bird was
put aside ; till, finally, with the pudding in the
cart, Tib, Joe, and- his little brother—were on
their way to St. John's. Here arrived in the
lane, a feiv yards off the picturesque old
school-house, Joe and Tib alighted, and,
1 carrying each A seething burden,, went softly
round to eke court-yiud in the. rear. Here
Tib, reaching the kitchen by a side door,"she
had purposely left unfastened, went softly .
about, like a mouse, while Joe watched her
through the window, and laid a snowy nap
kin on a tray, with silver and glass and other
Necessaries, and then set the nice hot dishes
thereon, and went softly towards the parlor.
door. Opening it, she put her bead within,
. and said, "It's me, missis." '
"Come in, 'lib. I am glad to see you!"
And Miss Cranbrook spoke as she lac piles
cent on her couch beside the gm.
So Tib, half frightened and ynnels flurried . ,
hurried in, and set the tray upon the table.
" If you please, missis," she said,deprecating
ly (add not daring to look et her mistress);"
base brou4ht you a piece of goose and a lit
tle. pudding, and 1 hope you won't be offended
with your little Tib." (At this precise mo.-1
men!: liavi-ae, wound bereft up quite to
a pitch, burst into tears); " for, oh! I couldn't
bear that you should be without dinner ; and,
please ma'am, MY: Bolt gave me the fruit;
end said I was to make a pudding, for I said
eon wasn't going to have one—and so, please,
I've brought it. And I "won't stay more
now, ma'am, for joe's waiting, and I'll sure
and be home early." So saying, and without
once looking at her mistress, she hurried from
the room.
When Miss Cranbrook had recovered from
her great _astonishment at this appearance of
little Titi--with so nice * dinner, she wondered
what could have prompted so sweet a qloaght;
forgetting. - in so doing, what her own acts
were. To please, Tib, rather thin from -in
-clinatienrshe Listed a little of both goose and
pudding then carried the tray away, and
returned to her parlor.
The cold was greater—the frost - more in
tense—the snow fell thicker and thicker as
day began to wane. All at once sbe beard
the sound of wheels in the and a minute
or so after, some one knocked upon the porch
doer. Hastening to open it, she welcomed
in Mr. Acton, an eminent surgeon, living at
the distaisce of some miles. Ile said but lit
tle, till he was seated by the fire; then he
asked her to accompany him to see Mr.
Farquhar.
dying," said the surgeon, thofight
fully, "and, as be says a few minutes speech
would be tb him the greatest human conso
lation, I hope you will not object to go!"
'"lt is many years since I saw him," -said
Catherine, thoughtfully, and as though Jo
herself.
"It is; and, like you, he is utterly alone;
You will therefore surely come."
"I will: I owe it to him!" And Catherihi3
hastened from the room, to put on her Cloak
and bonnet.
•As she went the surgeon could brit look.
with curiosity at the expressive and atilt
handsome face,- though some fifty years had
left their traces thee, and tinged her hair
with grey.
They were seotfoit the wiy to thi confitry
hotter where Mr: Farquhar lived. Leaving
the servant is charge of the vehicle, they
alighted at seine little distatice from it, en . d
approaeiag Woodedpatb, gained a pi
rate door. This was opened - by an elderly
man-servant, who, lief them up a stone-stair
cast and tisbered them into a room, halt
GNI-chamber, half sitting-room. Here, in an
easy-chair by the fire, sat a gentleman about
sixty years of agi ; his hair, like Miss Cran
brook's,. was tinged with grey, and he seemed
a little hunch backed.
When Mr. Acton had placed Catherine a
elite he
The giiitlen'ian held forth his hand ; but
Catharine was for some minutes too moved
to take it. ~*
" It is very good of you to come," he said
at length, "at such a season, and on such a
night; but I thought you 'would. , have
had many bitter and solitary .hourr.--and of
somewhat wilful causing, if I reistrth net."
" Vt r e have', and When seasons, sea as this
comes round, regreCarises chiefly because I
*possibly gave . pain you, Mr. Farquhar. .otherwise„;,l do net doubt that I breed nitrite
ed a higher and moreha.stiaghaispitievs...--that
is taking the average` of years as they glide
by—than had t followed the piomptings of a
more:Personal and selfish
.
"Undolibtedly. Theie victories cosi us
much ;, t but4he reward ts great. gray tell
me how it was, end „ wife! wilt the reason of *
your refusal twenty years ago."
"It Was this: My fi(thee was, as you may
have beard; a country gentlemen of good
fortune; and I soda brother were his only
children. Us gave 'me a fine 'education ;
for i had a taste for books, and this I found
my- only fortune when Ire died suddenly and
brother's,dissipatio of the'estate left me
Pens Mess., Sycb,; ; being the case, I had. to
seek my IDresstll'and 1 went as a tutoress to
the only i' i csa of Sir Itiehard Sutton, a neigh
bor and' old" friend ot-my family. Amongst
thesscessionarvisisors there was a somewhat
eminent political-character. We talked inrush;
,we had sympathies akin ; and I likecl
On more than ono occasion he Raid emphati
cally, At present, cipmenstancee prevent
me, but I will make you an offer as aeon ;us
can.' I made no reply to this whenever=it
was said—neither assent nor dissent. . Still ;
I believe that he spoke in , good faith, and that
his honor was irreproadiable. Three..Yllar
after this I raw you ; you • hired this-house of
Sir Richard ; you visited Sutton flace.., Al
most as soon as you saw me you-made -an
offer. It cannot be said that I refused, for
I repulsed you by absence rather than by
words. I did not know then what you were,
or the quality of your noble heart. Moreover,
you were a stranger,to.me—brusque in man
ner and alittle too authorithtive to win,"
"I was somewhat of a hunchback," said
Farqphar; " perhaps ihat was it:"
"No : in „trth, no. But I felt myself
bound to another—even-through indirectly.
You Should have had patience, and you
w*ould -have arc . o tie; for I liked you even
then, As it was--" ~ ,
-"As it was," ho interrupted, wringing his
hands" as it was, I cursed my life and
yours: \ n mr mad distippoinsment—iu my_
l x,c
haste to el velott that there were others whom
I could win,---I married . a heartless shrew,
, who in six wSks left me, and whom I have
never since,Beett \ or heard of, except as it has
concerned money\matters. Bitterly have I
rued that haste." • - •
" And bitterly, at \trileS; have I rued my
pride, and . my false e?tination of another's
honor. Soon after yoti\discontinued your
visits to Sutton Place I,left'there also. Iliad
an enemy in the chaplain--*ce become the
master of an Oxford Co.llege;`and,he, 1 t have
strong reason to-helleVe;_pofsobed Sir Rich
ard's-ears es to the•heterodo7y ()Nile knowl
edge I was imparting to his troy. 'So I left,'
and went to London, and. began a literary
life. If men who pursue the higher depart
meets of knowledge find money come slowly
in; so, necessarily, must a - Woman, silicise
hindianees are co formidable:, After twO\
year's struggle 1 returned to the country,
and procured the inistres.hip of St. John's,
, which was then vacant, and'-of which a•
trusteeship belonged to my-farnilv. It is, as
you know, a branch of the old grammar
lSchool in our little country town,land in
tended for the preparation of boys between
Lair: and ten years old. ...
I" I
. had brought the school into
, some kind of organiiation.l was very happy;
1 for the old school house had always been a
lovely prune. But the-payment of the salary
soon fell into arrears, owing to the had man
agement.of t,he truste.ey, and,
.cow far eiz,h
teen years, I have been struggling on with
. „
the- merest pittance, and but for the earning;
of my pert, most have starved. Some thir
teen hundred pounds is due, and with what
I have spent in repairs to the buildings, anl
other things—is . upwards of sixteen lsuudred
pounds. For the last six months the school
has been closed, - and the whole busines4, is
now in the hands -of the newly ci-ganized
Charities Commission. - NYhen last I beard,
it was intimated tome that St. John's will
be sold. If so, lam paid. I shall, with what.
is due, buy the old place. It is endeared to
me by a thousand memories, and there I wish
to die. Since his father's death, my old pupil,.
Sir Richard Sutton. has written to me in the
kindest manner. Ile says that- he owes to
me all that is valuable in life, rink that when
ho comes to England he shall bring me his
two.little,sons to do by them as did by the
father, and-he will pay me limelseMelv.
this be so, St. John's will he-no longer"' soli
tary. I shall be independent, tnd be to
piirsue, at leisure intervals, the assistance I
have now foesorne time been rendering Co my.
beloved Oliver." , .
" What F have seen of him," said sir. Far
gear-, "like much. /le . appears to be an
extraordinary young , man. A gentleman
who wee here from town, a few days since;
says that his forthcoming book is likely to I
te-a masterpiece. I see that it is.advertiseil."
"Indeed! This is news to me," -said Cath
erine; tor, to my bittei disappointment, I had
neither letter nor paper frorn him this morning.
Indeed, I suppose ho moans to surprise me,
for he has been silent for some weeks. But I I
attribute it-to the illness of his relative, a miser
ly old tradesman in London, who, for many
years his allowed him a gentlemanly in
come, and at Iris death-will leave Lim a cons
siderable fortune."
"This is well ",zaid ATr. Fermi:thee "Means
to-rest upon is,an abriohite necessity, if litera
ture is to be pursued with-en unbroken spirit,
and with an ultimate purpose of high intent.
And my object, somewhat in asking you to
come hereto-eight is to sue for leave to make.
your remaining days free from troubles of a
pecuniary kind. I - have the means."
"You may have, but have on right to
them: so make no-attempt of the kind, for it
will be utterly useless. A book Or, two, you
may leave me, if you like—nothing more.
And," she added solemnly, and fee et ing her
tor the pain I caused you—for the
mistake 1 midi you, in the profound
charity of this time and hour,. forgive me I"
• " I will, 'I be said,. with choked ut
terance,—" More readily, Anil more truly if
:ion tell fife one thing._ Did von ever love
me ,
"I I do !".7 she said vehemently.. ",,1
have drained the.bitter pup pt deep regret if
such confession snakes atonement."
It will; becauSe for years I have nightly
prayed for Gag tender mercy to me in the
life to come: that, even as- I have loved you
with the deepest human love—even. as 1 have
.worshiped your , high intellect and lofty
power—even as I reverence your singleness
o f heart, your rectitude, -and-truth—even as
I bate watebed -and wondered at what yon
had, dope for trutb, - ultimately, through,thoea
you have taught and trained—so dot pray
that, side ; by side with you on some, nobler
seems, we may bayS,coMpaiiionship. For this
I Will ever pray into the end; anti, trusting
in - the perfect goodness of Almighty God,
lied rest and peace." .•
" Amen! Amen!" - she said,
likewise."
She could say no more ; so she rose-even
as she spoke, and prepired to go.
IL) put a book - into-her . band,l-be bad been
reading: -and as he gave it, she pressed her
lips down on hie fiugern.
VOLUME BiR. I.
. ,
This eras her sole
,faruuidi,,as it was
and so they parted. ;INben she once more
gained .ther_air the snow •had ceased, the
mooiii and stars were- shining, and a deep
peace seemed brooding both far, and near.
Little was said daring the_ drive to St.,
John's; and when' 'there she - alighted and .
went in alone,: l'iti_bad--not set returned ;
but as.soon ,as4o. was within had' got
light she becarrio.awa re that rowel:Me knock
ed at a door at the rear. - Harrying thither,
'.she found a country bumpkin-holding a-par
, eel and a letter in his hana. • • .•.•
• "-If ye please,. misses, T. but Sknoe.king
till 'ee bones be sore ike:- Mrs. Snibsoia's
"Parry sorry ; but . she'd _ such .s,lot todhink
on with, the beef and , puddiq, as
,tp_ . rnako this
sere par c el *0 letter 'go cicilti ens of
head. 86 tap RiUst just forgivelter,thiiAi.
Catherine proved that she dia t sia by-giving
the bumpkin a shilling and dismissing him.
She, oame..back intn'theliatlon, tore the
post. cover off:the thick and noble rocking
volume, and found, as .she suspected; that it
was Oliver 11.orisney's .book, and, and --- to her
great surprise, that it was simply and brief,l . ,
dedicated to herself. Then' she read his
letter, explaining his sate week's silence. by
-ddiv.deNire to surprise her with the 'gift of the
first copy of his book On Christmas Day.
tt, said, too, that his noels was dead and
buried, and that, when _ affairs contingen
thereto, were settled, be should be the maste
of a handsomel.yearly income. dileent would
be, therefore, his-even if they did not other
wise arise—to secure St. John's; restore "it,
enrich the finest books.in manflan
guages; 'hus affording him: twplace fo
retirepennily change, sod
_Andy, leay..
her militia:is of the otd.plee.6, with power
aid-him, by gathering together out of book
of many kinds, those facts and sequences o
human action and natural dales from - w.hic.
alone the generalizations worthy the name
history can, be . drswn. • . • _
Thus, even - as she stood on the desolate an
unlit hearth, she could but feel that som
triumph andsome joy was hers.
Presently little Tikcame horn; with muc
to te.ll her mistress of her nuut's kindnes.,
and what Joe had said ;'and her rnistresso
turn, 11;1.1 much 1(...•ay al.okrt-the goose nu
pudding.
When Tib was g.ttoe to bed, the fire brigb l
.ha lan.p lighted. Catherine at down
Irk at Oliver', book.; and so she read o
arhi on till the d. , e . .pest peace wm hers.
5..4) the night closed upon the old
. ..Sh.
I.louse of St. John's.,
* # * * i
A year has goo by, and the - old boll . '
about St.. John's are rigaM thick set wi l
.ruddy berries. Catherine's affairs are n
settled; she hasJ!oug,lit. St. John's, its wok
and meadows, orchard and. gardens. YVi
the re,idne of hex little money, and 'what 5,
hat for the reachir,r - and guardianship of *..
Richard Sutton's little kous, she is,ierlerr.
Limit r - tri 'the 'affairs remmiing the sch 1
I were more easily settled 1),,...rea50n of the go l
1 offices of a certain Oxfurd,dignitat,v, w
hearing:lo whrit. low'estate Gathariutr er. l
brool; l.ad corw, had thus recant t o il
e vil he had ,:i115, ,, .. 1 long r . ears befcrp. .
On this Christmas riirirnint she sits
breakfastio.cna of ilia-charmirig„ohl pail
of St..lohn's, -now renovated and ‘ekothed
round with the library Mr. Fargiabar,
oneathed In his wit . A Tittle boy
either side of b4h;0in.:.... and Oliver is op
site. The fire- burns bright ;Aro sun at
in; the ivy wrentliv,veetytlw,tttko win
-Little Tib co”les or.rsting in with a ha
ful of letters, and her face is very radiant,
Joe, awl his tr,otherand brothers,. and
old aunt, and lilt, the old ganiner,ar,
cline in the kitchen to day.
the c roup thtti'gntheied in thq old ho!
liried room Lys , charming. one,- and,therl
peace in the long.triell heart 'of the roistr:
of St. Jobtea. , .
-
Ex ain in ing Bettams of Wells a
It hi not generally koowiA.we
.think., ii
easy a matter it is,to examine Oa. bottom
a well, cistern, or pond' of water .by the
of a common mirror, ("looking glass.') W,
the sun is shining brightly, hold a mirro
that the. reflected rays of light will fall i
*
water. A bright,apet Isla be seen at
-, cm3„-so light as to show the smallest
_- weiiiilainly. fly this means we Late atriftie'd . the bottom of wells fifty to eig 1
'feet deep, when, half full or more :of we
.The . sinalle.st straw, or'other small ob ject, ,
be perfectly seen .froui tiro, surface.- In.
i same way one can esarnine the laittorn
I ponds and rivers, i( the water lie soinen
clear, and not agitated by winds or ra
motion. !la well or eiAteln lie under co
or shaded by buildings,'lso that the sou li.
will nut fair near th& opening s it is o . ;
near:miry to employ two mirrors, thing
i to reflect tine light, to .thO 6'i : boring; .
i another to send it perpendicularly into
water. Light may be thrown tifty , or ii, h i
dyed varils. to the prP.cieil spot:desired,
then rethietetf doors ward. W have •ii
! the raiders with' stweess to reflect the li i
around a field, to n ihadtl-- spot, and rilst'
carry it from a ;omit - window through ~
room, and then into a , c istern under 1
north side of the lion-e. Half a dozen re
tions Of light inav he male, though eac h 1
ror crnithislitis tile brilliancy of the li, ,
Let any one not familiar is ith this melt
try it, and he will ail it not only usoftil,
a pleasing eXiaainient. It will perhaps
vea l a ma , ,ii :,..7.1 i I ilutitA 11 . 1._ 4 1.1:0 in)tt./11
, the well, whi,•ll h:... Lardl'itCo.i titolight
;but which ie.iv !Men been :ik fruitful. so
o f disease, by its decay in the w , tter.-- - - . ..4
agree cillurist.
Qvcostions for tho Curioris
• Ist. tf a 61. n to -fall in the %Ude! I I
and there were no ear within a him
miles to hear it, %%mild the far,ing of
tree produce any weed
2d. Sausraire tiastire.s u s that at the su
of Mt. Llano, the report of a pistol is noto
than that of asniall erticker on the plait
What is the canto of this
3d. In what coilditioo of the atcnoaph
sound most distinctly liestdi •i • _ •
sar The tlittoos, - wheti tatheritig jo
harvest, before it removed from the A .
ing floor, tike out the portion for. they
However poor, however much in de4
hOwever pauCh the crop may be, the: :
Petit - on is first given.
"so pray 1
Air Two men in 'Cincinnati have ;m
matt:lll to eat tntub and mil s k for $lO4l
"elinnirion," the one wilt! bfitzt;
, Cisterns.
fa, for
or
1
Lo. s
. - ..
It , 0
40 , 741
„.