Erie weekly observer. (Erie [Pa.]) 1853-1859, July 10, 1858, Image 1

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•II , u I 10 ,, k1,11 at hue too; and I could see by the,
weary twinkle of his eyes, li)w much be fell
awwwd. But I wanted to escape She went on
ntw.. am,k4Lg to say, 'notating my wanner •
"And / presume, the Docti,r will be detained
tone rime ; siv)ou'd better take 'em off; you'll
tee; theiro v d on 'em wore when you d 0 0; and
she ponce.' upon we such as my childish fancy
used to picture the wolf doitig to the foolish lamb
in the fable.
I The comparison doesn't end here; fur like the
•••• /rr,
, ‘./I lamb, I wished I'd staid at home.
ail "Sakes alive ! why Mr. Gonling ! She ain't
bigger nor a pint of cider !" she exclaimed, when
she had taken off my cloak and bonnet and„liid
them—only to think of it, my love of a white
satin boouet, and my pet white tbibet scarf—
epos that ! pew, woolen quilt—aft dear I'
But I never was so impressed with my owe
I littleness before ; especially mien the 4d Ina
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The I•rmes'a heart was mad, Me toil was rail,
Mslmbibed crops were crimping La the lkdd,
For not one drop of life-asetalaing MAD
Did the red Clouds of summer deign to 3101 d.
The (little 'mouth the trees, with lolllog league
Gaye up the marsh for herbage la &spar,
/Lod hedges ID the shade their Wads tbay hang
A :ad a heara4 ttpqr cud with moat cleepeadiag slr
The brook was dry, or stood, a muddy pool,
Whoa. stagnant waters now might dart to drink,
Which late, In crystal brightness, pure and tool,
Woad with lt• song Ow thirsty to its bunk.
The burning sun drank op the pearly dew
That evening, pitying, on ereaUon shed,
Ind o er the perched earth his hot berms throw—
ne herbage shinnied, and the dowers lay dead
The mar alutnasered In Ids land rays,
Ile corn grew dry and orlthsrad as It stood,
fLe taaltusg 134 'came canoed Owit tuneful lays
In .1111, recew.s of the ancient Wood
Then man anti vegetation prayed for ratta—
ils witherril stalks like farniebed hands, weer raised
Ito. flay by de ' was roan v petition relit.
TLe rinudo aro. sod vanished •e be gazed
t length the blessed boon, so long withheld,
eme like Inn angel down In men's dlamay,
ch.erlng the beast that well nigh had rebelled,
oti guring ley where grief ereiehile hall away
T. thilmty .►r•h drank to with greed) tongue
The enolinx Ti and that trickled o'er Its breast :
I .1e their knee earaptared
tad ere.. sect dower one* more narrated their civet
1 trt t
cvlan resumed their gladsome own,
Ani thron,Ah the meadows took their ebserfel •ay,
, tee more the core Its t erdant pennons Ahem
duce more the bird. inside merry ou the spray
rh• f saner'• hart glow . glash, and, on Ws luxes,
flaw ruses attuned with warn] dovotton'• strain
Ilrlssurod hL soul•-sn (ratan& to sow
isso isSeaord comsat of the summer rasa
luch falls, kite God'• owu spLelt, uu the dust
,if man s faileu suture, dead to eta and pats,
watt a issuer hope and bolter trust
It Ilrilk• rt.. 111 tO Ida nod joy airciu
r tief- the shove title we have noticed •eve
rat spirited Sketchesof humble life in the State
of Blaine, in the Portland Transcript, from which
, we copy the following.
I►ec ' --To day, I have bad my first.
,I t o g b ride We bad, last night, a alight fall of
rsiu, •thoough not enough to injure the sleighing,
wbieb bay bteu vt ry flue for several days This
nwrnitig tt wai clear and cold, and the sun Des , .
er ;11,me s upon lovelier landscapes than met our
' vt-ion a tr we glided al. mg upon the very border
61 the !.e•e, by the side of tue mountain or out
{l n ill.. open country—all was pare, and calm and
oparklmg, in the blessed sunlight
several sleighing parties, with
shmni tuttitd off from the main road into
.what mtght bar.. a wood road, but which
l.n...t.ted two. 4 pure unbroken surf:et. daz
i ; d ine, whiten• ss, upon which the horses' Qt fell
s-ftly up , ti velvet It took us through still
paw woo&, 1.011 I•vvry brauch and twig above us
• ws- 17,11-teuing with gems—very cold, but won.
llt , •u•tj ti , .out ll'o
th.• rode a d i g na 1 " kruiT, Tr„m his rev
dot•tur Au_ ettly r‘ , 4l
erie, SlLyitigs
"I Lave n.., vibt•re law carrying you,
N 'lnce )n no womanly curiosity about
"lint I know," 1 replied, laughingly ; t.I am
Toysician-sister elect,' as your shaker
friebd. say, t.. consult with Charley Gordon
about a pivient of Ins—but tell me all about it,"
for I •aw l , ) his I ks there was something to
I I but I vti
tiot poi, for we are
J ut there. Theis t• my time to say that they
are wretch.thy 'Nor, and wretched in a worse
sen , c than that They are tot such people as
you would wish to cultivate, aloofly, but it does
one good sometimes to enter 'tech a home "
It was indeed a miserable hovel—such as even
Lakeside could not show—and the very sunshine
which fell here aril there through the pines upon
it, 2.,-emed only to put a few more patches upon
the dilapidated r“iif, making it only the more
di-nisl Within, it was uo better An old pine
table, a bed with dirty wooien coverings, three
or fair ebairs, a floor bare and unpainted, four
dingy walls innocent of paper or whitewash '
That wan all, except that there was a bright fire
burning in the huge &replace; the only cheerful
thing about the place
Ao old man came to the door, and after a
surly "how fare ye," he went back to his seat in
the chimney corner, and took up again the btu ,
ket he was weaving. As I think of him now,
sitting there, his grey hair_ hanging about .his
withered face, be seems the picture of sullen,
bard, disnatinfied endurance. And Ido not be:
here the wrinkles on his pale face or the silver
in his hair came there by age alone. And the
massive forehead and the eagle eye, whose bright
uess I have seldom seen equalled—do they not
say be might have been all that eas - manly and
nobler Well, indeed, has somebody said,
, 11. el
I. I I
! aly
11 •
"tn. r on
"Of an sad words from tongue or pea,
The saddest are these—it might hare berm t"
Something of this passed through my mind
then, but whep his wife came io which she did
directly followed by their 'laughter, all segti•
mental cogitation• were put to flight I could
make no r.mance out of her I wish I could
de+eribe her She was a sharp featured, freckle
faced woman, unkempt and slatternly, with eyes
biaelt pight, and a loud, harsh voice, which
sounded as if it was used in saying harsh things.
But noir her words were "smoother than oil,"
and it must b. confessed, iu free and easy deft.
ante of Lindley Murray
o.rt, Is. a,
t I ur.
1 • 114 I ike
..I'm desprit glad ye'r come sod bring ye'r
wife to see poor folks, Dr Gording I should
ha' been hoppin' mad and you hadn't come.—
But take off your things Miss Gordiog imd set
' up to the fire "
I tbanked her, but preferred keeping them on,
for we should go directly. 111§ I presumed the
' Doctor vouldu't be detaised long.
oi "Proud, aiut she? Stuck up, like: Can't
take off her bonnet to buck' a poor place ?" and
.Lo save my husband a look which was meant
,•• to he very arch--I wouldn't dare to say artist it
u fix
. _
111ie.1 614 tjes tk look st me and E k, i,-*1
"Graciousgood' new: She 'Litt% hiskr than
a piece of ohalk ; but efod things cane done up
in little bunehes."
This eloquent quotation was addressed to my
husband as a sort of souse' ling remainder, on act. ,
count of so dfininutive a help meet, though I am
quite up to his shoulders, and sceigA a AA/tared
"Now, Di. Gardiug;' Mrs. Ryan resumed, "I
do hope you've got some 'potheo h m ee stuff 'twill
help our Eleanor ; as for Om k cloister's
little drips she brungirom Boating, I woukrat
snap my Gager for the whole met."
"She has bees oat of health some time then;"
remarked my husband, very much with the air
of a person who felt he was in for it, and must
say something.
"Massy sates I yes !" said the old woman,
"she's had a powerful sight of sickness, one way
and t'other, sod now she's mimed home, worser'n
ever, and /tient to know what airs her, for I
Wheys she's 'got the gallopin' consumption
That t'other doctor said 'twee a spine she had in
her bath, bus /know better, for her back always
WWI the strongest part of her."
And she Owe the fire a vigorous poke which
sent the sparks flying up the chimney as if par
taking of be indignation, at such a diagonosis
My husband came to my aide of the room for
the only uoooeupied chair, and oh ! what a look
I met from those two blue eyes of his ! It was
really too bad of him, when he knows bow easily
I laugh ; especially as he went and took him seat
by the girl', side as sober as a judge.
I noticed Eleanor's face instml and her eyes
drooped under my husband's grave glance; but
in a moment they were raised with the old de
fiant look, and the bitter mocking smile came
back to the pale lips
I heartily wished myself nut of the way, while
my husband was talking with his patient; and
as I ooldd not vanish Into the sir, 1 became very
much absorbed in a bit of torn tielispaier, the
only readable thing to b. seen—not 4o much,
however, as not to east now sad then a glance
upon the miserable girl, for whom imspite of her
wretched surroundings I felt a sort , of pitiful in
She must have been very beantifol once, far
ber dark hair was soft and glossy, her features
regular, and her large bleak eyes flashed with in
tellect. Thera was no other , vestige of beauty
remaining. Her hoe was emaciated and sallow,
her teeth blackened and 'decaying She W 1124
dre,ned in what was onoe-sso expensive silk, so
befloukoed andudeeked oft with ribbons sod hut.
ton., that the faded oolors and grease spur• stood
out in• bold relief /
It was plain to eee'tbat the tempter had been
there, sod it wanted only the bold defiance of
her manner to tell that the vice had done its
work—that selleespeet was gone, and that all
of happiness and beauty bad faded away from
her life forever—and she an young
After the Dootor bad talked with her a tow
moments be spoke to the old man bbd they left
the room together We could hear them talk.
log in the next room, and pretty soon his wife
followed them. Then came the sound of loud
sod angry voices. and I found I was not mistaken
in thinking she eoald say harsh things. At
length, provoked, it would seem, beyond endu
rance, we beard the old man rush from the
house, swearing a great oath and sealing it by a
profane "so help me God !"
him "There's nu Gad hero, father'"
I thought it was true in deed; tor if there is
to this sin stricken earth, a God forsaken home
it is this, and glad enough was I too find myself
seated beside my husband, in the sleigh, and
every moment itioreaaing our distance from it
"I ought to ask yam pardon, Nina," said Ile,
"for taking you to such a wretched place. I
bad no idea it was so bad I made some iegu4
ries about tbein yesterday, of an old mao who
has known them from their youth, and from the
history be gave me, I was not prepared for such
6.f am gad I went," I replied. "I never saw
snob a phase of human lite, and it does one good
to see something of its rtiugh places—but if you
please, tell me their history."
It was only the old story. "Long years ago
Paul Ryan, then a promising young man, the
only son of a well-tondo farmer, loved with all
the streogth of his proud passionate heart, a
yoaog girl, rich and beautiful. She was false
to him, and though his grief was unspoken—for
no one ever beard him mention her name—yet
it consumed his spirit., and made the gay, light.
hearted youth, a morose and gloomy misaotrope.
The country people used to shake their beads
and say, "poor Paul Ryan is going mad " But
'the maddest thing he ever did was his marrying
Nancy Trowbride, the woman you saw to-day.
She led him a terrible life, and by and by Paul
took to drink, and soon lost all the property his
father left him Six children were born to them,
of whom Ave died in infanoy. Eleanor was the
child of their old age, and strikingly lovely
Poor thiog ! ber childhood was wretched and
lonely enough. At home, she was by turns pet
ted and abused, and slighted and scorned, amid
gazed upon with suspicion at Khoo!. Such
treatment to a child of spirit and sensitive nature
like her was uneadarabhi; and one day she
brought home the tagged spelling book and_ de.
clared she would go there no more
And so she grew up in the old but among the
pines in idleness, and as ignorant of all the ac
compliahments of civilized life as a young savage;
though not destitute of grace of manner awl
some natural tea/lenient.
Small opportunities indeed she bad for any ex
bibition of refioement or taste, but sometimes
when she went after the cow she would stop and
weave a,wreath of evergreens and the bright
sea/let berries that grew •by the brook ; or with
white plover blossoms twisted among the hoiavy
braids of glossy black hair, she would go-dan
cing home, with the wild grace of a young
fawn, forgetting for a brief half hour her wretch.
ed lot.
Four years ago, when idle was just sixteen,
she went oat to service ist the city But such
work, indeed, any work at all, :did not suit her
tuts, and besides her haughty temper could illy
brook control, and one day after giving her mis
tress some impadest reply, she sou told to leave
the house.
Puor'Eleanor 1 an sails from ell kindness and
all pity, wearily she wandered through the crowd
ed streets of the city all that cold winter's day,
vainly seeking employment. At length, ca
hawked sod dimmarapsdi she at down upon a
door step, drew her scanty shawl about her, sad
wept as if her heart would break.
It was sight, and the limps from a hundred
windows sham al/around her , revealing the pov
tw and depravity °olympiad there—for she
badstrolled to that miserable part of the city
commonly. eailed "The Black Sea"--but she saw
it not, or heard the dial:ardent noises which make
night hideous in that wretched Babel. She only
sat there and sobbed as if soul and body would
part cowpony in her imoostrolbible sorrow
Suddenly a jeweled dead was laid lightly upon
her shoulder, and a soft wow said kindly :
"What is the matter, soy poor child ?"
. Ab ! the magi* of a /dud • word! how smith..
lug it came to that poor bewildered heart ! And
yet, it had bees better for Bleaser Syso bed she
one listened to 0.-4mtta, Webs slept there sad
five she dessallese skip.
g 1 50 - A YEAR,. IN ADTANCL
a. a a wine rrielte l.t Lur ; roatig,
gaily dreseed and beawitni—benusifel stet en
ticing seek* Serpent in Men l
Eleanor told her simple story with many tear*,
and the sympathising listener took her by the
band and said: "I will be your friend; come to
my home, and you shall want for nothing that
gold can purchase " And she wont with her to
one of thee° splendid houses, whose doori Mote
Gut once upon the innocent and pure.
She has remained there ever since; till now,
with health ruined, •beauty lust, and the plague
spot deep in her soul she is thr ust out to die
You saw I gave no prow:6000-1 sawher case
was hopeless, and I told her so When I gave
my opinion of her condition to her parent, he
buried his face in his heads and groaned. Re ,
merge is already gnawing at his heart strings, for
be knows his own hand has driven his child to
sin, and death. She mourned over the loss of
the money which would come no more—unhalt
lowed gains, the price of s daughter's shame mid
sin I believe if ever a fiend walked the earth in
female form, it in the form of Nancy Ryan,
in the hovel timing the pines."
Poor Eleanoil The world is the same as when
a laughing, ditnOisg girl she gathered clover Woe
some and *Het berries fur her hair, but it
shines and,blostiontein vain for her now! The
stars are 'Wept from Heaven, and hope and love
beaten down till there is no life for them in her
despairing heart. Ever between her and happi
tiers onmes the shadow of her sin; the ruins of
Life's beauty lying all along the rugged path her
weary feet have trodden! Gol fvaut a moment
of repentance may some, sod bring from infinite
merry to ber penitent heart the sweet assurance,
"thy sins be forgives thee!"
Thank Cilia, that id Heaven, if not on earth,
there is joy over the repenting sinner, and to
such a SO& death comes a gentle angel, through
whom "He givetb his beloved sleep!"
Ton fellow traveler along life's dusty highway
has filler, just where, perhaps our feet have fal
teringly/passed; or weary and toilworn, has
turned aside into what seamed some 000 l refresh•
ing shelter, and has been lost forever! while we,
perchance' warned by his error of the hideous
darkness beyond, have resisted the beckoning
arms of the tempting rest, and been saved! Shall
we, then—frail, feeble wayfarers that we are—
gather our robes about us, and with scornful
looks and reproachful words pass by the wander
er from right, and mingle with our abhorrence of
the sin, no pity for the sinning?
Is not their retribution terrible enough-the
accusing of conscience, the loss of self respect
and the confidence of others, the great impasse
able gulf which has come between them and hap
I have burlittle frith in those self righteous
people who always breathe their fierce deouneia.
tions against the wicked; and as for me, I hope I
shall ever have much in my heart the prayer Re
taught us—" Lead us not into temptation "
The Old laid and Old Baheelor
The author of "A Woman's Thoughts about
Women" says the old maid:
"She has not married. Under Heaven, her
home, her life, her lot, are all of her own make
mg Bitter or sweet they have Aces--it is not
ours to meddle with them, but we can toy d a y
see their results. Wide or narrow as her circle
of influence appears, she bu exercised her pow/
er Lu the utmost, and- for good. Whether great
or small her talents, she hat not let one of them
WWI , I 11... Y. •
existence way have been, om in wtnitever 0.
cumstances it may 'have it placed her, she bats vole
untarily wasted no portion of it—not a year, not
a month, no not a day Published or unpublish.
thy.. woman's lire is goodly chronicle, the ti
tle page A' which you may read in her counte•
niece; her manner, settled, cheerful and at ease;
unfailing int,rest in alt things and all people.
V.iu will rarely find she thinks much ~bout her ,
golf; she has never had time for it. And this her
life chronicle, which, out of its very fullness, has
taught her that the more one does, the wore one
ULI , iS to do—she will never flourish io your face,
or the face of Heaven,
s as something uncommon.
ly virtuous or extraordinary._ She knows that,
after all, she has simply done what it was her
duty to do
"But—and when her plane is vacant on earth,
this will be said of her assuredly, both here and
otherwhere—'She hash done eohcss she could.'"
FAsewher she sketches sketches the old baehe.
for in manner and form following:
" Scarcely any eight is more pitiable than a
young man who has drifted on to past. thirty,
without home or near kindred; with just income
enough to keep him tcspeotably in the position
which he supposes himself bound to maintain,
and supply him with the various small luxuries,
such as thirty guineas per annum in cigars etc.,
which have been habitual to him. Like his fel
low mortals, he is liable enough to the unlucky
weaknese of falling in love, now and then, but
be somehow manages to extinguish the passion
before it gets fairly alight, kuowing he can no
more venture to ask a girl iu his own sphere to
marry him, or be engaged to him, than he elan
coax the planet Venus out of the golden wes t
iuto the dirty, gloomy two pair back where his
laundress cheats him, and his landlady abuses
him; whence, perhaps, he occasionally emerges I
gloriously, all studs and white necktie, to assist
at at some yang beauty's wedding, where he feels I
in his heart he might once have been the happy
bridegroom—if from his silence she bad not
been driven to go desperately and sell herself to
the old fool opposite, and is fast becoming, nay,
is already become, a fool's clever mate, a mer 6
woman oft the world. And he—what a noble
idea he has gained of our sex from this and other
similar experience;—irwith what truth of emotion
will be repeat, as he gives the toast of 'The
bridetimaidi, the hackneyed quotation about pain
and sorrow wringing the brow, and smile half
adoringly, half pathetically, at the 'ministering
angels who titter around hint. Tu the slow pro.
seas of deterioration, by forty he learns to think
matrimony a decided humbug; and hugs himself
in the conclusion that a virtuous high-minded_
and disinterested woman, if existing at all, exists
as a mere /tuns nature not to be met with by
mortal man now a days Relieving his feelings
with a grunt—half sigh, half sneer—he dresses
and goes to the opera, or the ballet, at all events
—or settles himself on kite sofa to a French nor.
el, and ends by firmly believing us women to be
—what we are painted there."
sm. At a negro celebration lately, an Irish.
man stood listening to the colored speaker expo.
elating upon government, and freedom; and as
the orator came to a "period," from the highest
and .most poetical flights, the IrWoan
"Bedad, be spakes well fors us; didn't he?"
Somebody said, "He islet a negro, he is only
a half negro." "Only a halts nagnr, is it! well,
if a half sager can talk in that style, I'm think.
ing a whole nagur might bate the prophet flare'
air A person on whom the temperance refor.
mation had produced no effect, entered in a state
of exhileration, a temperance grocery, in a neigki
boring town ig Mr. Blank," exclaimed he, "do
you keep anything (hic) good to take here"—
“Yee,” replied the merchant, "we bare some ei•
collect cold water—the best this; in the world
to take." "Well, I kilo: it," rephed Base ante,
"there's no owe thing hits) that's dose so amok
for naviistion M that.
Sootfoo dorms of law boonalf4l, - -
Dr tbo wayside IN Ibook fa+ •Of
not tbo roes soy Igning by A* cottag•
And the vine on the garden oar ;
Covet the might sad the Me of earth
With • veil of leaves sad dewerav
MA unit with the opening bid sad sup
The swab or summer sheveln
Beadier the wail of theisrautltul
I a the holy shrine of blew/ :
Let the pan, sad the far, sad the marled there
la their loveliest luster mow
Leave not a User of deformity
la the temple of the heart,
But gather about Ito hearth its gems
Of Nature arid of ♦rt.
Hastier lb. tonne of the bowl:Mil
to the templee or our God— .
The God who starr'd the apUtt.d ak)
Asd dowered the trampled sod ,
When he bait a temple for WIWI%
Asd . home for his priestly rec.,
Flestsed stela area Is symmetry,
And curved each Has to grime.
tbuitter the forma of the beautiful
lb the depth. of the human mut :
They 'hail bad, and idoesom,and bear the fruit
While the endless apes roll ;
Plant with the flowerp ‘ st charity
The portals of the tomb,
k And the fair and the pure about the patio
In Paradise shall bloom
" I don't believe it," said my cousin Ned who
was passing his college vacation at our house,
and there was a world of unwritteu skepticism
iu the air with which he dashed down the paper
over whose damp columns his eyes had been
travelling for the previous half hour
" You see cousin Nelly," continued Ned, get
ting up and pacing the long old fashioned parlor
with quick, nervous strides, "it's all sheer non'
sense to talk about these doors in every human
heart. It sounds very pretty and pathetic iu a
story, I'll admit;' and so do a great many other
things which reason and actual experience entire•
ly repudiates- There are heart•—alas' that.
their names should be legion—when , 'far away
up' there is no door to be opened, and 'far away
down' no deeps to be fathomed. Now doe'i.
cousin Nally, level another such a rebuking glance
at me from those brown eye., for T have jeut
thought of I. ease illustrative of my theory --
Don't you remember Miss Stebbens, the old maid,
who lived at the foot of the bill, and lion I
Stilted a rose for you one morning which had
climbed over the fende into the road? Pangh!
I obeli never forget the tones of the virago's
voice, or the scowl of the forehead as she sailed
out of the front door and shook her hand at
A woman who e mid refuse a half withered
flower to a little child, I wonder that rose* could
blossom on her soil? At the 'smiting of The
rod,' no waters could flow out of arab a granite
heart. In the moral desert of such a charier, r,
no fertilizing stream can make its way "
I did not answer oonsin Ned's earnest eloquent
tones, for just then there was a low rap - nt vi-i at the parlor door, but I have always thought
there was a good angel in the room while he wss
speaking and looking down, down very far d„ v p,,
in his heart, he saw a fountain there, rank weeds
grew all round it, the seal of year. w tri its
lip, And the.dust of time deep on the %ca!; hu t
the angel smiled as it floated upward, and tnnr•
Inured, "I shall return and remove the %eal, and
the waters will flow."
'••• • - • • . 'WI • • 1,
one hummer afternoon The golde n Ale:6a(
slept and danced io is playsplave in the corner,
and, broke into a broad laugh ulony. , , the ceiling,
and a single beam, bolder than the re't, crept to
the hem of Miss Stebbin't, gr two, and looked up
with a timid loving smile iu her face, Suel a. 11,,
human being ever wore when loulung there
Poor Miss Stebbin's: those stern, harsh lea-
tures only dagtierreotyped to faithfully the de.,
boleti., arid heart beneath them; and that heart,
with its dry fonntaia, was a true type of her life,
with the only flower of human affection which
had blossomed many years before, along its bleak,
barren highway.
She never seemed to love anybody, unless it
was ber brother William, who wag a favorite
with everybody; but he went to sea, and had
never been heard of sinee Silly bad alway,
been a stray sheep among the family; but dark
hours, and at last death, came upon all the rrid,
and so the homestead fell into her hands. Such
was the brief verbal history of Midi-Stebbin's
life, which I received from Aunt Mary, who
closed it there in rigid adheret.ce to r furonte
maxim, never to srak evil of her neighbors
But, that summer afternoon, there same the
patter of children's feet, along the walk which
led to Miss Stebbin'a front, door; and, at the
same moment, the angel with golden edged wings
came down from its blue sky home into Nlias
Stebbin's parlor.
She raistid her head and saw theui, two weary
looking little obildren, with golden hair and blue
eyes, standing hand in hand under the little per•
tiro, and then that old termagant scowl darken
ed her forehead, she asked with a sharp, dis
agreeable note in her voice, like the raw breath
in the north east wind:
4. Well I should like to know what you waot
standing here?
" Pleuse, ma'am," ssid thy' boy, in a titn.d
entreating voice, which ought to have foun•l it4l
way straight into any heart, "linl.• iißtcr and I
feel very tired, for we have walked a lou.g way.
Will you let us sit down on the at•p an.l reAt
ourselves a little while?"
"No, I can't have children loaliog round ou wy
premises," said Miss Stebbins, with the same
vinegar sharpness of tone which bail characteri
sed her preeeding reply. Moreover, the sight
of any of the miniature epecimens of her race
seemed always fated to arouse her belligerent
propensities. just take yourselves off; and
the quicker the better 'twill be for you "
" Don't stay any Longer, Willie, I am atratil,•'
whispered the little girl, with a tremor rippling
through her voice, as she pilled significantly at
ber brother's coat sleeve.
" Willie! Willie! That was your brother's
name; don't you remember?" the angel bent
down sod whispered very softly in the harsh
womau'e ear; and all the tune his hand was &id ,
log down in her heart, searching for the bidden
fountain. "Yon mast have been about that
little girl's age when you and he used to go
trudging down into the medows together to that
sweat flag root. And you used,to keep tight'
bold of his hand, just as she does. Oh! how
tired you used to get ! Don't you remember the '
old brown house, where nobody lived but star,.
ins rats and swarms of wasps, who made their
mete there is the summer titue?—And you used ,
to sit down on the step that the worms had eat
in so many planes, and rest there. How be lov- ;
ed you, and how careful he was always to give ;
you.the best seat, and then, he never spolte one
mom word to you, if everybody else did. Now,
if you should let those children sit down and
rest, joss as you and Willie did on the brown
seep, you could keep a sharp eye on - them; and,
this. time, that spiteful little note in her voice
was sot quite so prominent:
" Hem, you may it down on that coiner a
little while; but mind you don't stir, for, if you
do, you'll have to . 119
" Little sister," the boy, in a low tone
after they were es* "lay your bead here and
0 7 to to 1100 1 0
Tha little girl laid her head, with its shower
of guoJoi, bright curls on tier brother's breast;
but rbe next moment she raised it saying: -
" I can't sleep, brother,l'm so thirsty."
" Don't you remember that day yotrand Willie
went into the woods after blackberries, and how
son lost your way groping in the twilight of the
forrest?" again whispered the angel, with his
band all the time feeling for the fountain. "You
found an old lightning blasted tree, and you sat
down on it, and be put his arm around you just
so, sod saidr"Try and go to sleep, little sister."
"And you could'ut, you was so thirsty; for you
bad walked fall three miles. Who knows but
what these children have, too?"
There was a little pause after the angel had
said this,' and then Miss Stebbins rose op and
went into her pintry, where the shelves were .11
of- immaculate whiteness, and she could see her
face in the brightly scoured tin. She brought
out a white pitcher, and going into the garden,
filled it at the spring. Returning, she poured
some of the contents into a cup that stood on the
table, and carried it to the children; and she re
ally held it to the little girl's lip all the time she
was drinking
Farther and farther down in the heart of the
woman crept the band of the angel; nearer to
the fountain it drew
Miss Stebins went back to her sewing, but
somehow, her fingers did not fly as nimbly as
usual The memories of by g one years were
rising out iif their mouldy sepulchres; but all
freshly they came before her, with none of the
grace's rust and dampness upon them.
That little boy's eyeti when be thanked you
for the water, !coded just like Willie's used to,"
°nee more arbispercil the angel, bending down
close to Miss Stehhie's ear. ..And his hair looks
like Willie's too, to be site there with the suns
beam brightening its glld,-aud his arm thrown
so lovinglyly around his sister's waist. There!
did, you see how wistfully he looked at the grapes,
whose purple B are turu'd toward him as
they hang over the portico?"
How Willie u-e.I to love grapes! and bow
sweet your bowl'' ~1 t,r .3.1 and wilk used to taste,
after one of your ranibiel torn the woods! If
the children hive walked as fir as you did—
and don't you see iittle boy's coat and the
little girl's faded dr..4 all covered with dust?
they must be vr , y hun7r), its well ea tired and
shinty Don't you remember that apple pie you
ballot( this morning' 1 never saw a pie done to
a fintr brown in my life. How sweet it would
taste t.) those little tired things, if they could
only eat a piece here in the parlor, where the
thew and the sun would not keep tormenting
them ell the time?"
A in)tnent after, Mi Stebbins bad stolen
with noisksi steps to her pantry, and cutting
two /4 , ne.rous slices from her apple pie, she
placed thew in saucers, returned to the front
donr, and Maid to the children:
" l'ou may come in here, and sit down on the
stuu:s by the fire place and eat some pie; but
you must wind and not drop soy crumbs on the
11, or "
It wa, vex) etrtnge, but the old harsh tone
had almost left her voice The large, tempting
slices were placed in the little halal eagerly
lafte•l up to reoLive them; and at that moment,
,itt from tit• lip of the fountain, out from the
•11/. , lAy heavy upon its zeal, there came
1 Niiig:e drop, and it fell down upon Mies Steb
bins' heart It waffl the first which bad fallen
there for years Ah, the angel had found the
tionta!o there!
Th.. g.,ftened woman went back to her seat,
i k4 l yip del , did not bend down and whisper in
• hnsaw
at its work
•• Where is rut- home children?" inquired
Mi-r Stebbins, after she had watobed for a while,
with a new, pleasant enjoyment the children,
tiq they dispatched with hungry avidity their
" Mary awl 1 haven't any home now. We had
.0 before papa died a great way over the sea,"
answered the boy
" Awl whore are going now? and what
I,cought you and your little aniter over the
10 " tnther queried the now interested
Why, you se.., ma'am, just before papa died,
he called old Tony to him—now Tony was black,
and hail always lived with us—'Tony,' said be,
'I am going to die, and you know I have lost
everything, and the children will be - alone in the
w )rld But, Tony, I had a sister once that I
loved, nod she loved me; and though I havn't
.een h”r fir a great many years, still I know she
lov,, me if she's living just as well as she did
when .411,. and I used to go hand in hand through
• apple orehard to school; and Tony, when
run dead and buried I want you to sell the fur
and take the money it brings you, and
etrry the children back to England. You'll
find her name and place she used to live, in a
piper—which anybody will read for you—in the
drawer there. And Tony, when you find her
just take Willie and Mary to her, and tell her
that I was their father, and that I sent them to
her on my death bed, and auk her to be a mother
t.i them fur my sake It'll be enough, Tony, to
tell her that.' And Tony cried real loud, and
he said, 'Nlassa if I forget one word of what you
have said, may God forgive me.'"
Well, papa died, and after be was buried
Tony brought little sister and me over the wat,
era But before we gut here Tony was Rke n
with the fever, and he died a little while after
the ship reached the land and they carried him
on shore Bat, just before he died, he called
ins to him and put a piece df paper in my hand.
"Don't lose it, Willie, said he, 'for poor Tony's
going and you'll have to find the way to your
! aunt's all alone. The money's all spent, too, and
they say its a good hundred miles to the - place
where she lives. But keep up a good heart,
and ask the folks the way, and for something to
i•at when you are hungry; and don't walk too
many wiles a day, 'cause little sister ain't strong,
Perhaps soniebody'll help you on with a ride, or
let y.,u sleep in their houses at nights. Now
ilou•t forget Willie; and shake hands for the last
time with poor Tony "
" After that, we stayed at the inn till the neat
day, when they turfed Tony, and when they ask
•ed us what we were going to do, we told them
we were going to our aunt's for papa bad sent
as to her, and they then let us go. When we
asked folks the way they told* us, though they
always stared, and sometimes ¶hook their hoods.
'We got two rides and always got a place to sleep.
They said our aunt lived round here; but we got
sn tired wilting we had to stop."
" And what was your father's ttamer' asked
Miss Stebbins, and somehow there was a chok
ing in her throat, and the hand of the angel was
placed on the fountain as she spoke.
" William Stebbins; and out aunt's name is
Sally Stebbins Please, ma'am, do you know
Off,'at that moment, came the Beal, and out
leaped a fresh blessed tide of human affection,
and fell down upon the barren heart soil, that
grow fertile in a moment.
" William! my brother William!" cried Min
Stebbins, as she sprang towards the children
with outstretched arms, and tears rainingleet
down her cheeks. "Oh, for your sake I *La be
a mother to them!"
A year had passed away; college had
come again, and once more Ned was at
our house. In the summer gicardog be went to
walk, and our way lay putMbulheiddme eat
tage. As we drew near the wicket, the mood
of merry child laughter rippled gielhdly imuur
ears, and a tuous4 t.t at uQ , frcni •v , ry
rose tree so disagresbly assoetart i w,th its i•b• r,
in Cousin Ned's mita& bouu(teit twu e olden hatr
ed ebikiren.
" Come, Willie! Diary: you have wade wrcattie
of my roses uotit they are well nigh gone. You
Mud gather violets atter this!"
" Mira&le dicta!" ejaeulit,d 'lJou.iu
"Is that tbo woman who gave m« „nob a blessiog
a long time ago for plucking a half withered
rose from that, very tree?"
"The very same, Cousin Ned," I "answered;
and then I told him of the change which had
come over the harsh woman, of her love and her
gentleness, and patience for the orphan children
of her brother; and that, after all there was a
fountain very far down in her heart, as there
was in everybody's, if ae conlil only find
" Weil, Cousin ''l'll egr.-e to
become a convert to your the ry without further
demurring. 4f you'll procui,e t tell m, where to
find a bidden fountain that ry far down in
a dear little somebody's heart, 31,.i whose preciqw,
waters are gushing only fur up- '
There was a glance, L,.1 ~rei4, half loving,
from those dark, handsomo eye., which male me
think Cousin Ned knew he wont 1 not have to go
very far to find it.
A Goon SUGGILsTION.--The "Little Jubi,,r"
of the Boston Gazette nuggets that those who
are disposed to indulge in toe luxury of profane
Swearing, should fins tuquire if it will be dis
agreeable to the company—just pa any gentle
man does before lighting a cigar in the pre:4,l34as
of others. Profanity is mush awe,• disagreeable
an d disgustin g to most people than ttiloicco
smoke. The latter off.mils but a tingle sense of
propriety, while the other off.nds r he commit nee
It is an ,insult to the to srbom a Chris
tian renders the high, st rever , nee, and falls upon
his ear much like abuse of tips name of a bolo.,
ed and honored friend There is no more offen
sive act than to abuse a man's friend in his pre
settee, and nu polite or cultivated man will do it
On the same principle ezaet.. if no higher
motive is sufficient, a gentlem in should suppress
his profanity in the presen;..7 others If u
gentleman can swear auywboro without a breach
of courtesy, when he feeli m re.' to swear, let
him first ask if profanit) i, uff,lisive to at,y A
the company, and having us:err:lined that they
can all stand it withorr flinching, then, if :ifter
such deliberate preparation, like it, let
him "rip." As there aro u vr. at many men
who smoke and chew, but don't -wear, it might
be well for landlords to fit up .1 "• , wertring room,"
convenient to the smokaig r ion, where time
who can't hold in, may relieve th , mselves with
out annoying other visitor., and itnprepating the
whole house with suiphurilt• a shalatibris It
will sound rather odd, won t it, to bears well
dr:liscd and decent looking gcnt;,:man ask, "I.
swearing uffenaive to you?—if not, I'lij a et off a
to hear a land;ord directing his guests
to the common swearing r.14)L11
TnousaND.—A correspondent of The Philactel.
phis Mercury tells the following story : Two or
three years ago the railway lines between Al ,
bany and Buffalo were ( onsohilated, under the
title of the New York Oentral Thurlow Weed,
of The Albany Erening Journal, engineered the
matter through the Legislature, and for this set.,
vice was to receive the handsome am of 0,000
of which Enfant; Corning was to furnish $4,000
and Dean Richmond $4,000. The plan succeed.
eviatad the money was paid over. But as Mr
the stock stand in his own came, he rall'adienver
to an old and particular friend of his—Mr. Mr
Intosh—who had made money as a railroad eon
tractor. It was understeo.l betwoen the' parties
that Mclntosh was to hold the stock, and then
quietly make it over to Weed But, unluckily,
Mclntosh died and forgot to leave a will So
the administrators, in making up the account of
the assets, stumbled up,o the eerificaten for this
$B,OOO, and put them d. wn to M4ntosh's credit,
supposing, ofourte, they were his. The debts
were paid and a handsome balance was left for
the widow, the attractiv. , Mrs Mclntosh, wild
w a s married a few wpf•lt4 ago tq, Mr ex Ph
dent Fillmote. Thurlow's 3'3,000 went along
with the widow,.ioto the arm: of the man whom
Thurlow hates probably as badly as one man can
hate another. For a politico scandalous yarn it
is not bad, and makes fun
How mg DID IT.—A ntleman feeling u
strong partially for a young lady whose name
was Noyes, wu 4esirons without the ceremony
of a formal courtship, to Ist. rt iu her sentimencp
For this purpose he said to L. r one day, with
that kind of air and mann. r whit•ti means cithrr
jest or earnest, as you in ay ,• 1 to fake
" If I were to ask you w (to ta,r yon were under
matrimonial eugageruciit. •Iny ,ne, what part
of your tonne yei) wtjii I take for an
" The first, - said she to the same tone
" And were Ito ask ) if ) war. , inc:in,ql
to form such so eugagem ut,sii , ul.l such person
offer who loved you. ills was hot iudifferent as
to yourself, what part of )eur uatne mig!lt be
then taken as an answto"
" The last "
" And it I were t., telt that 1 juu,
and ask 3ou t (oral •uch .in engagement with
91114, then 1,,n t ).. r name May
"0, then, repii..l the oiu—ing girl, "talie
the whole name, aq to sub !as , I lownld chi er
fully resign it tor your,."
It to aluno.t needle-i to toll that they NZ e r
soon,l+ rnarrio,l
" A Tete:lmmix° .Jot.r "—Thy other tta . v as a
tratu t.f GUN MI the Oen( Ige and Alezandrla Rail
road was at the bridge opposite the residence of
Mr Wallach, near Culpeper, C kl., the engine
driver discovered a man totting on the track with
his head hanging down a+ .t Wong a nap. All
efforts were made to stop int , train; though it be •
itig near the end of a curve it was impossible t..
dose in title When the . ogee struck the man,
it lifted him eight or ten feet in the air, and ho
fell flat on his back in the ditch, apparently life
less The conductor ran the train back and took
him on board the cars, and then started back to
procure for him medical aid While on the way
back the man commenced talking, remarking that
they were carrying him the wrong way He soon
after raised np his head and said he was not hurt
He then rose to his feet, remarking at the same
time "Stranger, you gave me a thundering jolt!
Hallo! let me get ofil - The train stopped. As
he alighted on the ground, be jumped up and
cracked his heels and bid adieu. He called him.
self Jack Brown of Culpeper.— Washington
AN INVINTION FOR 'ME 11118.--The New
York Sum announces s wonderful intention in
the shape of a churn of marvelous pryers. - It
is represented as having, after an operation of a
few minutes, produced two gallons of whisky
from eve gallons of Now Yore City stile! That
will do.
GOOD ItIONLI. —A line in one of Moore's songs
wads the "Oor much shall be roses beeping%
WI with _ 4wW." To whit& s sensi ble _ glii t swot
slug toWor, replied: 40 TwouM gave me
rbessmitit, sad so it mould rone