Nellie of Truro
page: 0 (Cover) [View Page 0 (Cover) ] page: 0Advertisement[View Page 0Advertisement] 12mo. $1,00. "It is a deeply interesting story.' We hope every novel-reading, young lady will procure and attentively -read it. She will be made wiser and better by so doing, and will find it containss all the interest of the wildest romance."-Pres- byterian Herald. "Its incidents are graphically and naturally told."--Iampshire Ilerald. "There has no volume fallen into our hands for years with which we have been more interested."--Sandy- ill Herald. "The-writer is equally at home amid the picturesque scones of the Pacific Isles, and the more familiar events of an American dwelling."-South Baqptist. "An affecting story."-eeffersonian. "A charming story; we read. it with unbounded satisfaction."-Lit. Standard. "Vara is of the same type as the gentle Eva."-Democrat. "After perusing 'Vara,' the heart seems hallowed with a holy spirit."--Mer- cantile Guide. 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It is one of those books for which the present day is peculiarly noted; books which inculcate not only morality, but religion-deep, pure, and heartfelt religion- religion as our Saviour intended it should be, free from sectarianism, pharisee. ism, or dogmatisnm-a religion which is seated in the heart; which has come from above, and which gives to the happy and blessed possessor, not only a charm and an attraction inexpressible, but peace and joy which no worldly evil can destroy, and no worldly sorrow overshadow."-Chicago Tribune. "We predict for this book a very large sale. It is one of peculiar interest, possessing all the attractions of a romance, and at the same time inculcating a wholesome moral, in chaste, lively, an'd graphic language."-Daily Newus. "As a work of art, we place it high. Independently of any aim of plot, the language is both chaste and ornate, frequently pathetic, often humorous. The characters are drawn'with great skill, and we can find originals in our mind who seem to be here carefully pictured. Here are men of the world thiniking like these worldly men, and aptly speaking their language; Yankees with thleir nas- ality; young ladies discussing fashions and follies; bucks strutting and boasting; no daguerreotype has portrayed the features more strongly."-N2ewarkc Daily. *"A charming volume, we commend it without reserve."-CGhristian In- telligencer. ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS. page: 0Illustration (Illustration) [View Page 0Illustration (Illustration) ] "Take care, little girl, or you will slip in," said a pleasant voice." 48 Nellie of Trutro. page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ] NELLIE OF TRURO. BY THE AUTHOR OF "VARA: OR, THE CHLD OF ADOPTION." NEW YORK: ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, No. 285 BROADWAY. 185(. NEW YORK page: 0 (Table of Contents) [View Page 0 (Table of Contents) ] L.--AL FLOWER PICKED ANI II.--A WILD-FLOWER IN A ie e III.-A DROOPING BUD REVI the yenr 18M55, by ,THERS, . IV.--TRANSPLANTED FLOWER outthern District of New York. . . V.-A. RoSE-BUD AND X Yc VI.--DIAMOND CUT DIAMONI VITI.-GENTLE TRAINING AND VIII.--PATIENCE TRIED, LOVrE IX.-FELICITATIONS AND PRE X.-THE THSTLE BECOMES XI.-THE WILD-FLOWER UNI XII.---VARIETIES OF THE SAM: XIII.-A RARE SPECIMEN FOR XIV.-A SPRIG OF GENTILITY: XV.-BRIGHT SUMMER-TIM[E A XVI.-WISE HEADS ON YOUN( XV[I.--G-ARDEN THSTLES ARE PRINTED BY E. o. JENKINS, XVIII.-Fi;OwEPS WELL-SORTED ?24 Frankfort St. -. XIXN.--SvIr 1-,:XVL II'USB kNDRY, PAGE THORNS LEFT......... 7 EN-HOUSE . ........ 16 AND DROOPS AGAIN.... 24 ...................... 33 THSTLE .......... - '42 ...... ........ 54 ious FRUITS ........... 63 PRISED . . . ..... 73 ATIO .. .......... 84 "RDEXN-PLANT . .. 91 EXAMNATION ........ 99 INUS HOMO .............. 107' HU MAN HERBARIIUM... 114 SHOWY THAN WORTHY. 125 CHRISTAMA S TALE...... 133 OULDERS ............ . 147 TLES STILL. .... 1. 55 A NEW SEEDLING..... . 167 ,IGHT, AND SHOWERs ... 1'75 page: vi (Table of Contents) -7[View Page vi (Table of Contents) -7] Vi CONTENTS. PAGEM XX.-T1HE TREES OF LEBANON MAKE THEkTHSTLE KING. 185 XXI.-PETALS OF CHARACTER UNFOLDING ............. 192 XXIL.-NETTLES STING: WITH BEST INTENTIONS ........ 199 XXIII.-SPIRITUAL DROOPINGS UNDER BAD CULTURE .... 214 XXIV.-A FLOWER GATHERED BY A GENTLE REAPER... 224 XXAY.-LIGHT SORIOWS AND HEA'VY PLEASURES....... 234 XXVI.-SOME THRIVING PLANTS, MORE WEEDS. ......... 243 XXVII.-VILLAGE FRIENDS AND UNEXPECTED GUESTS.... 250 XXVIII.-PLANTS WELL-ROOTED, TRIED, AND APPROVED... 261 XXIX.-SUNRISE: THE SPRIG OF GENTILITY ODOROUS.... 279 XXX.-GENTEEL BEAUX AND VILLAGE BELLES. ........ 290 XXXI.-DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. ... .............. 302 XXXII.-A SPECIIMEN OF HUMAN BRAMBLE. . ........ 319 XXXIII.-THSTLE OUT-ROOTED: BRAMBLE AND PASSION- FLOWER .... ...................... 333 XXXIV.-EROSE-TREE AND TIORN-BUSII AFFE(CTIONATE..... 340 XXXV.-A BLIGIIT ON THE ROSE-TREE, . .......... 350 XXXVI.-MLDEW ON THE THORN-BUSH ..., 360 XXXVII.-ROSE-TREE AND CELIBACY, THORN-BuSIi AND XAR- RIAGE. . 8........ 69 XXXVIII.-A GREAT HEI:ART HORS DE COMAT ......... 375 XXXIX.-A SUDDEN GUST AFTER BRIGHT SUNLiGHT ..... 382 XL.-ODORS OF PIETY IN STRANGE PLAES......... 390 XLI.-THE LOST FOUND ...................... 403 XLII.-ORANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTLE .............. 416 , , I. * Utzker: icklbe a1nb its sIdr a eft. "Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes-to it In sound of funeral or of marriage bells; And, sitting muffled in dark leavcs, you hear The windy clanging of the Minster clock." AIFRED 'ENNYSON. MR. HLL, the florist, was somewhat of a philosopher. "Letitia," he said one day to his pretty daughter- others called her "Hetty"-"Letitia, there is a :Providence-- "Yes, sir," she answered abstractedly, not'observing that her father paused to collect his thoughts. Letitia," resumed Mr. Hill with some asperity, "there is, I say, a Providence in little things." "Oh," ejaculated Hetty, in an apologetical tone, as she transferred a geranium from a staller to a larger pot. "Yes," continued Mr. Hill; "American trees, ages ago, grew, decayed, and formed this rich vegetable mold which is to nourish the acacias I am now transplanting. And other acacias, now flourishing in India, thousands of miles distant, are providing catechu to tan the skins of animals that browse in American pastures. It is wonderful, is it not - Letitia! do you hear me?" "Yes, sir." "Why don't you answer, then? What was I saying? page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] 8 A F LOWER PICKED "Talking about tanning, sir." "'It's easy to see," said Mr. Hill, jestingly, "where your thoughts are. Do you imagine every one feels as much interest in tanners and curriers as yourself?" "I am sure H" and Hetty tossed her head, either at the geranium or some imaginary person, " don't care a geranium- leaf for all the tanners and curriers in the world." -"Except one," put in her father. "Father, I do wish you would not talk to me about George Hughes. I look a little higher in the world than to a tan-pit!" "Take care, Letitia," said Mr. Hill, exchanging the tone of raillery for one of serious concern; "take care, or you may fall into a worse kind of pit than that. I begin to think that America is not much different from. England in some things. There 's almost as much rank and aristocracy here as there; only it's money here, and blood there. No matter if a man has intelligence, he is looked down upon unless he has money too." "Letitia," said Mr. Hill again-Mr. Hill prided himself on. his botanical knowledge, and never permitted an inaccuracy to pass uncorrected--" why do you call pelargoniums geraniums?" "Every body does, father." "Every body has not the same opportunity of learning the difference," answered her father, with evident vanity. "Ge- raniums and pelargoniums belong to the same natural order, but should not be confounded by a florist." Hetty received the reproof quietly, and nothing was said by either for a few minutes, when Mr. Hill, whose thoughts had got back to the old train, fell to philosophizing again. AND ITS THO R NS LE FT. 9 "Letitia, as I was saying, there is a Providence in little things. There now is George Hughes. I knew his grand- father in. England, when I was a little boy. His grand- father came to America, and I never heard of him again. But now, I, grown to be an old man, have come to America too, and here I chance to fall upon old George Hughes' grandson: who knows what he may be to us yet 2" and Mr. Hill glanced archly at his daughter. "I don't; and don't want to," she answered. But Mr. Hill resumed his gravity and the thread of his discourse, without noticing her reply. "The circles of life," said Mr. Hill, suspending his. work, and flourishing his trowel in the air, "intersect at unex- pected points, and exert mutual and unsuspected influences. Behold the orbits of planetary motion," and the trowel and eye of the speaker were directed to the zenith, " how inti- mately related! They have common centres, points of con- tact and intersection, and reciprocal influences. So with the circles of social life," and thetrowel and eye came down again to the earth; "they are often indeed identical when- they least seem so. Individual lives start at different points on the same circumference, and seem to be widely distinct and separate. But one overtakes the other, their forces unite, their circles blend and melt into one, and the orbits of their lives forever after coincide. Thus man and woman, strangers to each other and unassociated in any way, unexpectedly meet, love, marry, and become one and inseparable." "Father," exclaimed Hetty, " there is Mr. Lee." Mr. Hill looked discomfited and annoyed; it may have been at the interruption of his eloquence, or it may have been at a sly expression in the daughter's voice, which by page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 A FLOWER PICKED some subtle telegraph conveyed the idea that she connected his last words with the inappropriate appearance of Mr. Lee. Hetty retired to the furthest end of the green-house, and busied herself behind a tall japonica-tree that concealed her from sight. Mr. Hill received Mr. Lee with a less benevolent welcome than usually smiled in his fine, intelligent, good- natured face. ' I came to look after my japonica," Mr. Lee remarked, after the first words of salutation were passed. "Tere it is, sir," replied Mr. Hill, pointing to the tree at the further end of the green-house, and resumed his work. Mr. Lee went directly to the japonica-tree, and stood for some time in an attitude of close examination over one of its most perfect flowers. Well did it merit examination. It was a pure white, and yet through the white there was the least tint of-rose color, the least blush, or, as might be, re- flected blush of the rose. The petals were full, without over- crowding, each perfect in itself and slightly crimped and fringed at the edges. Beautiful as the flower was, and often as Mr. Lee had come to see it since it was a little bud inclosed in its thick, green calyx, he had never before bestowed upon it such close attention; and Hetty, who stood unobserved, was for the first time jealous of her japonica. "Humph!" muttered Mr. Lee, as he turned from the plant with no very radiant face. His next exclamation was, "'Oh!" as he discovered Hetty standing so near him: there was some embarrassment in that "Oh!" Embarrassment in another helps a woman to self-posses- sion; and Hetty's jealousy was completely covered by the ease of manner with which she returned Mr. Lee's salutation. 'AND ITS THORNS LEFT. 1 "Is not the japonica beautiful?" she asked. "It is indeed," he answered. "You have been studying its beauties very minutely," she said again. "Yes," he answered; "'I came on purpose to see whether it--" He paused, and the awkward embarrassed air came back. "Well?" asked Hetty, by way of encouraging his ideas, or his words, whichever were at fault. "Whether it were as pretty as you said it would be," he answered quickly; " and I must acknowledge, it has verified your prediction. I almost believe it stole that lovely rose tint from your cheeks-perhaps it is only a reflected beauty, that will fade away in another vicinity. Good morning." He talked fast, and left abruptly. If there was any thing unusual in his manner, Hetty foi'got it in the remembrance only of his last words. The morning after Mr. Lee's visit to the japonica, Hetty was out and at work in the garden, when George Hughes passed by on his way to his work. It was early spring. The crocuses were just peeping through the packed and cakey ground. Every day was increasing the work for the florist and his daughter-his only constant assistant-in doors and. out. To Hetty it was a work of love. Her English beauty shone ruddier than ever, and her English songs rung out from a joyous heart. She was singing now and did not ob- serve George Hughes, who, leaning on the fence, watched her for some time, with a thoughtful countenance. "Good morning, Hetty," he said, at length; "you seem to feel happy this morning." . o rn. . page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] AND ITS THOR NS LEFT. . 13 "Hetty, what use is there in your studying French?" asked George, in a disapproving way. Hetty colored a little, and then, evading the question, remarked that she believed George studied nothing but the B-ible. "Well, Hetty," he answered, picking up his pail that car- ried his dinner, and preparing to go, "I have studied at least one text in the Bible, and I am afraid you will have to study it some day, too. It is this one, Hetty: 'We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God.'" It was some hours afterward, that a servant man entered the green-house, with this salutation: "Miss Hill, I have called for that japonica, please?" Hetty's scissors, busy that moment in clipping the dry leaves from a splendid La Reine, dropped from her hand, as si e turned on the servant a surprised, startled, incredulous look. The man, like all of his class, was a gossip, and col- strued the flower-girl's silence into an invitation to talk. "Guess you know what that flower's wanted for, Miss Hill; don't ye?" "No," she answered, curtly, as she picked up her scissors. "Now don't ye, Miss Hill2" asked the man, following her as she walked hesitatingly toward the japonica-tree, at the end of the green-house. "Have n't ye heerd?" "Heard what?" asked Hetty, turning upon the man quickly. "Why," said he, hardly able to believe that she had not 'heerd,' "how that Mr. Robert is to be married this very mornin' to Miss Theresa Jay; and that japonica is for the bride." I I I page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] 4 A FLOWER PICKED In an instant, almost before the words were out of his mouth, the flower was cut from the tree, and, imbedded in moss, was transferred to the hands of the servant. So then, this accounted for the unusual fact .that Hetty had that morning already received orders for ten bouquets. And for this she had so long watched that japonica, from its budhood to its blooming. And herself, as her fluttering heart had dared to hope, was not the attraction to the handsome young man who had bespoken the flower, and had so often come to look at it and to talk about it. The brightest and foolishest hopes that hlad ever gleamed upon her pool little heart, were extinguished. It was like passing in a minute from mid-day to midnight. There was the experience of a life-time crowded into that one bitter imoment. But no one knew it; and if tears afterward fell on the maimed stalk where the japonica once bloomed, no one ever saw them. She did not weep then, however. She stood in a sort of thinking trance, gaz2ing at the japonica-tree, perhaps five, perhaps thirty minutes, till the voice of her father called her to her senses. "Letitia, it is after nine o'clock, and you have not ar- ranged the bouquets." Bouquet after bouquet was called for and sent to its desti- nation; and at twelve o'clock all the ten were gathered in' a church, where the. light streamed from a painted window on a wedding group; and when the last sacred word was spoken, the bouquets rolled away in luxurious coaches to the home of the bride; and no one ever knew that they were tied with heart-strings. 'But the flower-girl sat silent, sad, and listless, among her blooming flowers. And there she still sat, when, in the evening twilight, George Hughes AND ITS THORNS LEFT, 15 entered the green-house, and took his seat unobserved beside her. Long he sat and gazed at her immoveable countenance,. Did he read her thoughts--her feelings rather? Perhaps so, for he leaned gently over her, while he whispered these words in her ear: "HE wore a crown of thorns, not of flowers, Hetty; and He sometimes takes away the flowers and leaves the thorns for us, that we may learn His only power to save and bless." George was gone before Hetty, in her confused state of mind,. gathered the meaning of what he said. But his words were not forgotten.. And in her own room, on her knees, at the foot of Him who can be touched with a feeling of our infirmities, because He has been tempted like as we are, she wept her first tears over the rifled japonica and the hopes it emblemized. , * . page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] II. , With flglter in a Q remnr-kmut. "I know .not how others saw her, But to me she was wholly fair; And the light of the heaven she came from Still lingered and gleamed in her hair. For it was as wavy an'- golden, And as tmany changes took, As the shadows of sun-gilt ripples, On the yellow bed of a brook." JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. OBERT LEE and Theresa Jay were married. The cere- mony was solemnized, by rule and rubric, in the dim religious light of the stained glass window of a gothic church. The red hues of a saintly visage, not beyond sus- picion of intemperance, fell on his face; and the yellow tints from the glory of another saint, 'done' mostly in blue, ex- aggerated the sallowness of her complexion. Lawn sleeves shook down a blessing on their heads. Every one pro- nounced the dress of the, bride exquisite--what mattered the face?-and the ceremony 'beautiful.' At the bride's house congratulations were duly received, 'good creatures,' edible and drinkable discussed, and bridal presents displayed to the shame of stingy aunts and uncles, and the disgrace of extravagant cousins and 'dear friends.' Then the 'happy pair' hurried away from the blaze of the fashionable world, to the fashionable enjoyment of a fatiguing tour by rivers jye igigtu yrvr A WILD-FLOWER IN A GRIEEN-HOUSE. 17 and railroads, lakes and' turnpikes, till, in due course of time, they arrived at the country-house, not many miles from the city, where the groom was born, and where parents, sisters, and brothers were ready to welcome the bride. It was a large family: Robert was the eldest child, and his the first marriage. Great, therefore, was the rejoicing. But the happiest of all there was little Helen Lee, a flaxen- haired, blue-eyed sylph of five summers (for all the year round was summer to her), dancing, laughing, and romping' in the buoyancy of a light heart and entire health. Brother Robert's arrival with a new sister, had been the subject of her thoughts and dreams for many days and nights. And when they came, she was the first to Welcome them, after. her father; he helped them out of the carriage, and the rest stood within the great doorway; but she was on the porch, and sprung to their necks the moment they stepped upon it. Sister Theresa gave her an indifferent kiss, and brother Robert gave her a kiss and a toss in the air; and Nellie skipped away, happy in her own true love, and unsuspicious that they cared as little for her blue eyes and fair skin, as for her white dress and blue ribbons. Every day Nellie carried sister Theresa a bunch of flowers, and got a toss in the air from brother Robert, and never doubted but that they loved her dearly, as she did them. And when at last they went away and were to visit Europe, and not return for ever, ever so long, Nellie sat down and cried, as if she really believed that neither she nor they could be happy again till they came back. Robert and Nellie Lee's father resided in the house which his father, and grandfather, and great-grandfather had occu- pied before him: a venerable and spacious mansion built of a . , page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18' A WILD-F LOWER gray stone that cropped out from the hills behind it. Va- rious additions, of various sizes and fashions, had been made to the original edifice, till it assumed the picturesque appear- ance of a whole village of houses, tumbled and clustered to- gether without much regard to arrangement. This effect was increased by the number of barns, stables, and out- houses, which protruded themselves at various distances and relative positions fcom behind the dwelling. A stranger, approaching the mansion for the first time by the main entrance, might suppose himself transported to some Englisl baronial' estate, that is, if he had never been in England. The distance from the road to the house, by the principal carriage-drive, was a quarter of a mile. The large gate, flanked by a porter's lodge, admitted you into a dense wood, neatly, cleared of underbrush, and carpeted with grass. By degrees the woods thinned out, and afforded glimpses of the house. Then there were only clumps and clusters of trees, and here and there a single tree of uncom- mon size or beauty, in bold relief; and the grass between was softer and richer, showing evidence of shears and rollers. The carriage-drive now became an avenue, bordered on either side by a row of shade-trees, lindens, and English maples, with occasional elms, both American and English. At some fifty feet in front of the house, the trees ceased altogether; the carriage-drive widened among the flower-beds and. shrubbery; and the house, seen only yet by glimpses, stood out plainly to view, a mass of gray against the green hill- side, impressing the beholder, by the suddenness of its dis- closure, with. an extravagant idea of its extent and beauty. The main building, as the great-grandfather designed and made it, was a huge square pile of undressed stone, two IN A GREEN-HOUSE. 19 stories high, with a row of old-fashioned, fienchified, do'r- mner windows, peering up above the eaves, out of the double- pitched roof. A piazza, elevated some five steps above the ground, crossed the entire front. The roofs of the house and of the piazza were carried up, at the centre of the front ele- vation, into a point, to give effect to the massive doorway, which was elaborately carved into rich' moldings, and in- truded into the house from the front wall 'to the depth of' eight or ten feet. A very grand affair that doorway was, an imitation of the entrance into some baronial castle, but notl in keeping with the very plain exterior of the rest of the house, and wanting the flight of broad steps which the feudal prototype would properly have. The doorway opened' into a hall some fifteen feet in width, running through the house, firom fiont to back, without ob-. struction of any sort. This hall, perhaps, with some attempt at the old feudal castle again, was ornamented with antlers and old Worn-out fowling-pieces, and other trophies of the chase, when the great-grandfather had been a pioneer set- tler in the domains of the savage beasts and wild Indians; and at the further end of the hall, on one side, was a large stand of muskets which had seen service in the French and Indian, and Revolutionary wars: and, on the other side, hung in double row, antiquatedleather fire-buckets, a provision against an element which, shriveled, cracked, and corrugated, they could not now hold water enough to save themselves from. On the right-hand side of the hall, as you entered, were two immense parlors, with three windows front and rear. Beyond these parlors was the library, added to the main edifice by Mr. Lee's father: built in gothic style, with a page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 .A W LD -FLO WE JR tower at the far end, surmounted by an observatory, giving to the edifice, to an outside observer, the appearance of a chapel. In the front angle, formed by the library and the house, the present Mr. Lee had built sa cozy little sewing- room, expressly for Mrs. Lee. This was connected by a stair- way with a room of the same size above it, which was Mrs. Lee's dressing-room, and communicated with her bed-room. On the other side of the great hall, the front room, called "the oak-room," because wainscoted with oak, was the or-. dinary sitting-room of the family: the back room, called the "tea-room," was originally the dining-room, and still served that purpose when the family was not large. Between the oak-room and the tea-room, was another wide hall, where the broad staircase, with its low steps and oak baluster, led to the upper stories. This hall afforded another entrance, on this the southern side of the house, which entrance was covered with a handsome square portico. Beyond the tea- room, Mr. Lee's grandfather had built a new dining-room, and beyond that again were the green-house and conser- vatories. The house was surrounded with lawns, avenues, groves, flower-beds, walks, and carriage-drives, planned with ad- mirable taste and kept in perfect order. Vines ran up the pillars of the piazza, and clambered, some of them, to the roof of the house. The southern portico was completley curtained with honeysuckles and sweet-briars. The open squares, formed by the dining-room on one side of the house, and the library on the other, were planted with a few choice flowering shrubs, in the midst of velvety grass; and in the centre of each plot was a marble fountain, spouting jets of water, that the wind, as it pleased, blew about in feathery IN A GREEN-H OUSE. 21 spray over the grass. Around the graveled semicircle, di- rectly in front of the house, such of the larger green-house plants as happened to be in bloom in the summer, were ar- ranged in their green-boxes, chiefly lemons, oranges, and cape jasmins, filling the atmosphere far around with their overpowering fragrance. Behind the house, at the distance of half a mile, a high ridge of hills, almost mountains, elevated themselves in many a craggy height and wooded eminence. The house stood on' the gentle slope of a hill-side, and commanded an extensive view of the country in front. A little on one side, lower down on the same hill-slopes, was the pretty village of Cedarville; and beyond that the eye was led along by the silvery thread of a little brook,t to the broad margin of a mill- pond, with its picturesque grist-mill; and beyond that there was a wide stretch of rolling country, descending gradually to the glittering bosom of a river, in which the brook at last lost itself; and beyond the river the land suddenly rose again, till it was upheaved into a range of rugged and jagged mountains, blue and purple, and often silvered and sparkled over with. wreaths of showering mist. Such was "T ruro," as the Lee estate was called, the home of Nellie Lee. A happy home it was, Nellie, to be sure, was of little 'account in the family. In that big house where every one could do as they pleased, without interference with each other, Nellie was often overlooked. A large family in strait- enled circumstances, affords a healthful discipline; every taste can not be gratified; one must yield to another; the general interests must be consulted to the sacrifice of indiv- idual wishes; the habit of self-denial is fostered; and in the page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 A WILD-FLOWER mutual regard of each other's welfare, and in the common struggles, sufferings, and joys, love is deepened. and strength- ened. But where there is plenty of money and plenty of room, and each may go his own way and indulge his own inclinations, there a;y be, with no unkindliness of feeling, a selfish spirit, or at least a lack of quick and thoughtful sympathy and hearty interest in one another. So it was at Truro. Mr. Lee was a well-educated, agreeable, gentlemanly man, remarkable for the courtesy and cordiality of his manners; admired by all, loved by many, hated by none. Mrs. Lee was distinguished by reticence, amiability and inefficiency. Robert, their eldest Child, who had. married Miss Theresa Jay, resembled his father, only with less intelligence and mental cultivation, and less courtliness of manners. He was nomlin- ally a lawyer, but never practiced his profession. Nest to Robert was Norton, a studious, thoughtful character, inherit- ing from his father and grandfather a taste for the natural sciences, which he gratified by accepting a nominal profess- orship in connection with the college of which he was a graduate. Rupert, the third son, was as unlike his elder brothers, as they were, unlike each other. He had a horror of books, and but little taste for society. He loved horses, dogs, and guns, and was addicted to fishing, racing, and hunting; he was a sporting character, and. nothing else; never would go to college, choose any business, or submit to any restraint. Charlotte and Emma resembled their father in appearance, and were regarded as beauties; Chair- lotte had the most regular features, and Emma the finest eyes: they were fond of admiration, were full of themselves, and, without wishing harm to any, were very indifferent to IN A GREEN-HOUSE. 23 all the world beside. Maria, who came next in order, re- senlbled her mother in appearance and general quietness of character; she was frail in person, health and mind. Iarry, the next in age, was as much like Nellie as a boy with dark hair and dark eyes, can be like a girl with light hair and blue eyes: both were impetuous, generous, brave and affec- tionate. Nellie loved Harry better than any of her brothers and sisters; and next to Harry she loved Norton, who never came home without bringing her some little keepsake, most always a book about the natural history of bees or ants, or something of that sort, and never by chance a story-book. Nellie looked at the pictures, and then carefully placed the unread volume on a shelf, in her own room, which she had appropriated for the special keeping of brother Norton's ' presents. Nellie loved her other brothers and sisters too,. though they had little in common with herself, and she never doubted if there could be better brothers and sisters in the world. If they soon tired of her fun, and said, "There, Nellie, that will do for this tilme; run away, and do not bother me;" she was ready to obey, with a laugh that rung and a step that bounded. If Harry could not play with her, Prince, the gray-hound, would; or, if Prince, for a wonder, was sleepy, the bright sky, the sunlight, the fount- ains, the flowers, or even the wet jack-stones in the walks on rainy days, or the snow in the winter, were sure to inspire her with amusement of some sort. Her heart, brimming full of joyousness, was easily made to overflow. page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] "I. 3 rtg^alg s1^ gebtilbs ash Strops 3gaii. The lady died not, nor gre'w wild, But year by year lived on-in truth I think Ier gentleness and patience, and sad smiles, And that she did not die, but lived to tend Her aged father, were a kind of madness, If madness 'tis to be unlike the world." PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. HETTY HLL had come from England with extravagant ideas of American democracy. Soon after her arrival, Robert Lee was attracted to the green-house. His visits were frequent. Ite always, indeed; had some ostensible er- rand; but he always lingered long to talk with the pretty English girl. What wonder if she, with her notions of republican equality, fancied a more tender sentiment in the young man, than the mere love of flowers? Pleasant and poetical, and sometimes even sacred, were their talks of the flowers; and many a tender word crept in, which might, or might not, be meant for the flowers or their mistress. But the dream was over now-an untold dream, and un- suspected-unless George Hughes had Daniel's gift, to read another's vision: but if he had, he never told it. George Hughes the tanner, plain-looking, straightforward, unpolished George Hughes-what if his voice was soft, and clear, and pleasant? what if he was the best, most pious, most respected of young mechanics? what if he was as lknd A DROOPING BUD REVIVES. 25 as a brother, too kind ever to speak to her of love? How could Hetty Hill ever marry George Hughes! His very clothes smelt of tan and leather: it ieeded all the flowers of the green-house to make his presence tolerable. Had not her father told her, that if she came to America she should be a lady, and might marry the best in the land And was sle not more fit to grace a high station than many of the, vulgar wTomen,l who came in splendid coaches, to cheapen her plants, and quarrel with her bouquets? And had she not tried to improve herself, and read, and studied to the extent of her ability, that she might be worthy of position? and should she now put up with George Hughes? But as George never asked her to put up with him, he was never put down by her. lie visited on free and easy terms. He talked to the father, and watched the daughter: and no one could be more quick and handy than he, at any little turn by which he could spare her steps, or her strength. He had the faculty of anticipating her motions, and would do things for her almost before she knew that they were to be done; and he did themlso quietly that she hardly knew when they were done. To have George help her was almost like helping herself, she was so used to it. Sometimes he would sit for whole evenings, talking to her father, and she, rapt in her own thoughts, or in some new book, ould forget that he was present: and yet George Hughes'was looking at her all the time. George had looked till he could see clear through and through her heart. He had discovered its am- bition; he had read its hidden love; he knew when the one was humbled and the other blighted. His heart bled for hers. But he knew that she was pure in thought, strong in will, and prayerful in habit; and he never feared but that the 2 page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 A DROOPING BUD REVIVES, one indiscreet sentiment of youthful inexperience, would leave her wiser and stronger to battle with the future. He came now oftener than ever; and he oftener now sat by the daughter than by the father; and she began to appre- ciate the good sense, and the delicate and almost womanly feeling of the honest, burly, unpretending young mechanic. George always received a welcome, and was always ready to claim it: andc she as much expected his escort to church on dark evenings, as if he had been a brother. And, when the days grew short and the evenings long, George became her fellow-student: he taught her arithmetic, and she asked him questions, by way of freshening his knowledge, in geography, and they read history together: and, in place of French, she accompanied him once a week to hear a lecture on chemistry, which, he said, would be useful to him in his trade, and might be pleasing to her as affording hints in reference to the color, fragrance, varieties, and proper cultivation of flowers. So the summer fled apace, and the winter passed away. "The daughters of the year, One after one, through that still garden passed: Each, garlanded with her peculiar flower, Danced into light, and died into the shade; And each in passing touched with some new grace, Or seemed to touch her, so that day by day, Like one that never can be wholly known, Her beauty grew." Hetty was contented and cheerful. Less of a girl, more of a woman-a lurking gravity in her smile, and a thoughtful tone in her laugh--in all else, the sane rosy-faced, joyous- hearted English girl who had of old divided with her flowers the attention of handsome, or would-be-handsome, young AND DROOPS AGAIN. 27 men and patrons. But she cared not'now for them: she gave all their compliments to the flowers and took none to herself. She cared for George Hughes, though; she did not herself know how much, neithler did she know how much she was indebted to him for a tranqiil and happy spirit. Mr. Hill, the florist, having lost his wife, resolved, in the mere restlessness of grief, to leave England and seek new scenes in Aineica. He came to New York and leased in the upper part of the city the half of a yet unbuilt, unim- proved square, in which stood an old tenement, in a tumble- down condition, and around which the mansions of the w-ealthy and fashionable were rapidly increasing in number and magnificence. His capital was invested in fencing in his lots, erecting a green-house, stocking it with choice plants, and cultivating the ground around. He. had industry, skill, and taste. Wherever it was possible to make a-soil, and in- duce flowers to grow, he did so; and where it was not, he covered the staring, naked rocks, glittering in mica and spar, with English vines, trumpet-creepers, American clematis, syringas, and honeysuckles, red and yellow. Hetty, his only child, was his constant companion, and in- telligent and efficient assistant. The green-house was her special care; and all orders for bouquets were answered by her nimble fingers. A rare skill in arrangement concealed deficiencies in the variety of the flowers. No one came once, who did not call again; and the stock on hand in- creased, as customers multiplied. They had now been three years in the country, and were becoming famous. "Hill, the florist," was an acceptable adjunct to the embellishment of fashionable entertainments. And young ladies sometimes looked askance at bouquets 9 page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 A D[ROOPINC BUD REVIVES, that had been bought for themselves from the prettier flower girl. Stimulated. by success, Mr. Hill secured possession of the other half of the square he occupied, with the design of extending his green-house, and enlarging his"business. Early in the spring he was at work, putting up fences and prlepar- ing the ground. One large boulder in the very centre of the plot must be removed. Iletty watched the process of boring, and listened to the incessant clink of the hammer and drill with a boding heart. She was not used to powder, and she had a vague fear that somebody would be hurt. Supper was ready on the table, and Hetty had called her father, but he was anxious to make the first blast that day. "All's ready now," he said, as he ran into the house to get the matches; "listen, and you 'll hear it." "Oh, father," cried Hetty, placing herself between him and the door, "please don't go near it. Give me the matches, and I'll give them to the Irishman. He can do it without you." "Nonsense, child, let me go; there's no possible danger." "Father, I 'm so afraid," and Hetty began to cry. "Why, Letitia, what oniearth is the matter with you. I thought you had more courage; come, come," and he kissed her. ,"I ' promise to be very careful: and you must put your trust in God." She let him pass her: and she laughed at, herself, as sle wiped her eyes. But though she dreaded being too near, she felt compelled to follow her father, that she might see for herself that he was safe. The match was applied, and the father and the Irishman fled for safety behind the fence where Hetty stood. They waited and waited, but no explo- sion followed. Cautiously Mr. Hill looked over the fence, AND DROOPS AGAIN. 29 Hetty pulling him down all the time. He thought he saw what was the matter. The Irishman, in running, as Mr. Hill observed at the time, had set a stone rolling, which rested on the fuse. "There was no use staying there any longer," he said, in answer to Hetty's entr6aties; "it would not go off, if they staid all night." And breaking from her he ran round the corner of the fence -she looked after him--he stooped down to pick up the little stone, the supposed cause of the difficulty, and, in the instant, came the deafening discharge, and the flying of the broken fragments: and, before the smoke was cleared away, or the sharp broken fragments had 'ceased to fall, Hetty was bending over her father; his gray hair was soaked in blood, and he was stretched senseless on the ground. With the aid of the Irishman, she carried him into the house, and laid him on his own bed in the little sitting-room, and while the Irishman was dispatched for a physician, she washed the blood from her father's head and face; oh, what a fearful gash it was! His eyes were closed, his hands warm, but there was no pulse, no sensible motion in his heart. Still she believed tlit he lived; and still she bathed his face and hands with water, with whisky, with whatever she could find at hand. The physician came. A few others, to whom the Irishman had communicated news of the acci- 'dent, looked in for an instant, and disappeared; there were I few in that neighborhood, happily, Who would be attracted to the scene of the casualty, and those who did come, shook their heads and ran away. "Young woman, have you no friends to call in?" asked the doctor. page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 30 A DROOPING BUD REVIVES, "What do you wish, doctor? I can do every thiing," was her distracted reply. "There is nothing to be done," answered the doctor, as gently as he could. "Nothing, doctor? oh, please try." As if to satisfy her, the doctor bared the arm and struck his lancet in, no blood came: he pointed to the rapid change that was passing on the countenance, and bid her feel his hands, now cold. "Tell me, young woman, where your friends live, and I will send them to you." She mentioned the street and number of George Hughes' mother's, and the doctor left her alone with the dead. She sat by the bed-side with her tearless eyes riveted on that calm, venerable face, till it grew too dark to read thle features. The light was still glimmering in tlirough the green-house sashes. Not knowing what she did, for she was in a maze, she followed the rays of sun light that crept among the flowers. How fresh and beautiful they looked, so unconscious of the presence of death. And yet they wore a sombre beauty in that dim light; the birds had ceased their songs, and only a breeze from the upper sashes swayed a branch here and there with mournful motion. Itetty sat down on a vacant place among the flower-pots, on the shelf that ran along the side, and rested her head on her arm, on the rim of a large flower pot. She was not grieving, for she was not thinking. She was in a state of mental atrophy. She heard a step behind. She started, and, at the same instant, remembered that it could not, be her father, and recognized George Hughes. Big tears were rolling down his cheeks, and his chest was heaving with uncontrollable sobs. AND DROOPS AGAIN. 31 The sight of sympathy awoke her from her dreadful apathy. "Oh, George," she exclaimed, and burst into tears. They wept together, hand in hand, her head on his shoulder, like brother and sister. How kind the Hughes were. George helped Hetty through the inquest which some officious official set on foot; and he and his mother, and lis sister Lucy staid at the house all night. A long line of carriages followed the hearse to the ceme- terey; and the papers took special notice of the sudden death of ' Hill, the florist," and recorded the fact, that " as a mark of respect to, his memory, the very first families sent their car- riages to the funeral." The truth was that Mrs. Jay, being largely in Mr. Hill's debt for flowers, had expressed to Mrs. Ephraim Jones, great concern at the sad catastrophe which had befallen "that excellent man, Mr. Hill," and remarked, that if she only knew when the funeral was to be, she did not know but she would send her carriage. Mrs. Ephraim Jones was getting up in the world, and wished to be, or at least to appear, on terms of familiar intimacy with Mrs. Jay. ILere was a chance not to be neglected. She. did not inquire why Mrs. Jay did not ascertain by means of a servant, when the funeral was to take place, if she really wished to know. It served her purpose to ascertain the fact for her, to be seen calling twice on the same morning in a sociable sort of way on Mrs. Jay, and to be able to couple that lady's name in the narration of the affair with her own. With these laudable ends in view, the sympathetic Jones hastened to the scene of the catastrophe, and sent in her footman, brilliant in the gold-lace of a new livery, with "the compliments of Mrs. page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 A D RO?I N G BUD RE tVIVES. Jay and Mrs. Jones, and wis1hed to know when the funeral was to take place." This done, Mrs. Jones hurried back to Mrs. Jay with the information, and the assurance that her own carriage should be in attendance also: and then made some dozen other calls, in the course of each of which, she introduced the subject of "poor Mr. Hill's death,' and vol- unteered the information that "sJhe and Mrs. Jay intended to send their carriages to attend the funeral at four o'clock that afternoon." The consequence was that some really fashion- able, and a host of would-be-fashionable people, sent their equipages to follow the remains of the florist to his last rest- ing place. H-etty's English taste was not displeased withl the ceremo- nial cort'ge; and if she needed truer sympathy, she had it in the tears of the few plain friends who wept with her, over her father's grave. \ IV. Eran1I al nta r ,r . So oft the doing of God's will Our foolish will undoethl And yet what idle dreamn breaks ill, Which. morning light subdueth; And who .would murmur and misdoubt, When God's great sunrise finds him out?" ELIZABETI BARRET'T BROWNING. T was the evening of the day after the finleral. George and Hetty sat in the little room behind the green-house. They could not bear to light the lamp, for that used to be the signal for reading the paper to him who once occupied the vacant arm-chair. But the moon shone in softly. The green-house was full of the pearly light; each twig and leaf stood out distinctly; and the air was loaded with perfume. "Iletty," said George, gently breaking the wistful silence with which they had been gazing on those plants, yet so fiesh from the touch, and redolent of the memory of the good florist; "Hetty, I have n't told you the news. I l:ave been offered an eligible place in the country--a tannery where I can carry on business for myself. Shall I ac- cept it?" "Oh! George, how I shall miss you!" was her vehement reply. "Can yozo get along without me?" he asked, emphasizing the pronouns. 2% Sk page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 34 TRAN S PLA N TED FLOWERS. "Oh! George, I have tried to think: and plan, but I can not. I never thought and planned so much in all my life before, as I have to day. But it's no use. I can 't see my way. My only comfort was that I had you to tell me what to do, and help me to do it. Oh, how can I do without you!" She ended with a sob, and the sob was succeeded by such a violent fit of weeping as she had not indulged before. 'The extent of her misery, the loneliness and helplessness of her orphanage, in a strange land, were made too painfully apparent by the possibility of the removal of the only arm on which she could now lean. All power of self-command was lost. She bowed under the sense of her bereavement as a wilted flower under a burning sun. George movedhis chair close to hers, and put his arm around her. "Hetty," he whispered, but she took no heed-" oh, Hetty, Hetty!"-but she did not answer, and he cried too. Hetty at once became more quiet, and the violence of her sobs was succeeded by a gentler flood of tears. "iHetty," said George, again, "can you not think of God look to Jesus; trust in Him!" "Perhaps so, George, if you 'll stay and help me." "Hetty," said George, earnestly and tenderly, "you must not trust in human help. 'Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils; for wherein is he to be accounted of?'" But Hetty wept on, and George continued repeating the words of Scripture. "Thus saith the Lord, Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the Lord. For he shall be like the heath in the desert, and shall not see when good cometh ; X .,. T RANSPLANTED FLOWE R S. 35 but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land and not inhabited. Blessed is the man that trust- eth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not die when heat cometh, butlher leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought; neither shall cease from yielding fiuit." He was silent again for a few minutes, and then he added the injunction of the Apostle: "Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by player and supplication, with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." The extraordinary voice of George Hughes was never more perfectly modulated, and its soft, musical, assuring tones would have conveyed the sentiment to Hetty's heart, even if the precious words had been Greek instead of Eng- lish. George waited till she was composed, and then he took her hand in his. "Hetty," he said, "I am sorry I made you feel badly. You did not understand me: I asked if you could get along without mie? I now ask, Hetty, if you think that I can get along without you?" "Oh! George, I do believe you will miss me. How self- ish I am. I never thought of you, and what you would suffer in going to a strange place, away from all your friends." "But must I go away from 'all my friends?"' George asked. "May I not take one of them with me?--the one I love best of all. Will you let me go away all alone, to an empty house, with no Iletty to take care of it and me? no page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 36 TR ANSPLA NTED FLOWERS. Hetty to talk to and read with? and help me along in be- ginning life for myself? will you, Hletty, will you?" His manner spoke his wishes more plainly than his words. There was some surprise in her face, as she looked in his, while he was speaking. But when he waited for her an- swer, it came without attempt to disguise the willing heart- iness of her 'consent, and the real pleasure she felt at this un- expected way of arranging her affairs.. She was so conscious at that moment, though it was for the first time, that she loved him dearly; and so sure, that he loved her; and they were so necessary t( each othe'r; it was so right, so proper for her to belong to him, that she could not, if she had tried, have assumed an air of diffidence or hesitation. Cordially she gave herself to him; and brightly the sun of her Ihap- piness shone out from the dark clouds, with only some sor- rowful tears, that her father could not give his blessing. Long they sat and talked of what was to be done. None of the furniture in that house, so dear to her, should be sold; they would need it in the new home. And some few of the flowers, favorite ones at least, should be spared from the auctioneer's hammer. "George," she said, when these business arrangements were concluded, "I am not half good enough for you." "You did not always think so, Hetty;" he answered, archly. "Oh, I was a foolish young thing then," she said, " and you had not taught me how to think of myself and others, as you have since, Qeolre.)' "Well, Hetty, I tell you what I think," said George with animation, "I think I am none too good for you, and you are none too good for me; but we are just suited to each TRANSPLANTED FLOWERS., 87 other. We were made for each other! I always knew it, and was always sure it would come to this." The enitrance of Lucy Hughes, who. came to spend the night with Hetty, ended the conference. When the light was struck, Lucy was astonished to see the face so recently qvershadowed with hopeless sadness now smiling serenely, and her brother's grave countenance radiant with happiness. But Hetty made her way quickly out of the room, and left George at his leisure to give the necessary explanation. With pious care George and Hetty strewed the florist's grave with the spoils of the green-house. Hetty chose those plants lie loved best, and some because he had last tended, them and they were associated with his last words and last smiles. Some she planted in full bloom, though she knew they'would die, and others so choice and delicate that they must perish for want of care, but they would first shed their sweetness over him who once delighted in them. Others there were, as many as could be, which neither drought nor cold would kill, to lend their beauty and at- tract the eye of the stranger to that spot when " his chil- dren" were far away. At last her work in the old house was done. For two 'days she had been busy packing, or bundling together, all kinds of household stuff, in all kinds of boxes, trunks, bags, and wrappers of all shapes. Sometimes tears had started, and shel had been lost in tender reveries over mementoes of old times-but she was to part with none of them, only to treasure them up in her own new home. But the old house! that she could not take with lher! She stood in the little sitting-room with her bonnet and shawl on. How page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 38 TRANSP L A N T ED FLOWE RS. miserable it looked, denuded of its furniture. Her eye turned to the glass door that opened into the green-house. There nothing had yet been disturbed. What a beautiful, gorgeous scene it presented. The western sun was 'hidden from the sitting-room, by the tall houses on the next square, but his gleaming rays streamed in at the further end of the green-house, and grew more brilliant as they rested on the flowers. The effect was heightened by the dim twilight and deserted aspect of the :room in which she stood. The one all gloom, the other intensely joyous. Canaries, in their round cages, were singing their blithest songs; and every leaf and blossom was dancing in the vivid brightness. Yellow jasmines, the crimson metrosideros, blue lobelias, and the bell- shaped maurandia, purple and white, kissed each other as they swung backward and forward from the typer lights, or drooped over the little moss-covered baskets from which they were pendent. Camellias, red and white, azalias, pink, white, yellow and purple, cactuses, with silken tassels, fuch- sias, trembling on their stems, geraniums with clustering flowers, myrtles, lemons, and oranges, with their glossy leaves, a few roses--those of the 'most delicate beauty and highest culture, that only now rewarded the care of the long winter-and crowds of heaths, mignonettes, heliotropes, French violets, and other little plants, modestly blooming in the foremost ranks-all mingled their odors in one over- powering fagraince, and blended their various shapes and hues into one mass of brightest coloring. Happy fancies ,played about the heart of the flower girl. "Such,' she said to herself, "is the happy future into which I am about to pass; I shall step from under the shadow into the light; and such, only more glorious, is the home father TRANSPLANTED FLOWERS. 39 has exchanged for this. He left this home sad and gloomy enough," and she glanced around the empty, dusky, sitting- room, "but oh! how full of joy, beauty, and splendor must be the Paradise of God!" She heard George's voice. Its liquid tones melted into the scene, and formed a part of it. He was calling her from darkness to light, from sorrow to joy. But his time was precious now, attending to her affairs and his own too, and only waiting to gather a generous bouquet for his mother, and select the cage and bird she was to give to Lucy, she hastened to join him. Instead of Lucy's coming to stay with her, she was to go and stay with Lucy. She was leavingl the old home, but the sunlight in the green-house had crept into her thoughts, and lighlted them with beaming hopes, and with a buoyant heart and light step, she accompanied George to his mother's house. George Hughes succeeded in selling Mr. Hill's unexpired lease of the house and garden for a good sum,. The flower auction brought extraordinary prices. Mrs. Jay and Mrs. Eplrain Jones had put their imprimatur on every thing be- longing to I' Hill the florist." To be at the auction, to pos- sess some of the plants, and to bid high for the sake of. the orphan daughter, was, for the time, essential to support a claim to a position in fashionable society. The street was lined with carriages, and the green-house crowded with beauty, preten'sion and extravagance. It became evident, :' ildeed, that Mrs. Jay and Mrs. Jones expected some little reduction in their bills, some small personal favors, in con- sideration of their regard to Mr. Hill, and all that they had done for his daughter. But George .Hughes had his own page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 TRANSPLANTED FLOWER S. way of meeting such meannesses, and exacted all that was just, more tenaciously because of the contemptible littleness that would withhold it. After the auction Hetty visited the old place once more. it was stripped now of every thing, and the men were carry- ing away the very sashes of ': green-house. She could only ramble through the garden and wonder if such and such flowers would come up again, or if the weeds would smother them; and she sighed to think how much she loved was buried in the. earth, never to gladden her sight again. For four weeks George was away; then li returned: and there was a quiet wedding in his moth-er's parlor. Lucy was bridesmnaid, and her little brother Charhe was grooms- man, with a white ribbpn in his button-hole. George and Hetty bade all good-by, and before it was evenling they came to the old tannery, that stood by the little babbling brook, in the very centre of the' village of Cedarville. This was their home. Hetty was astonished to find how much George had ac- complished without her, and. how much he had done to please hier. Instead of a very few of her favorite flowers on the window seats, he had enclosed -with glass sashes the south side of the kitchen, and had opened a door there into the kitchen, which was also to be their'sitting-room, and in that diminutive conservatory stood nearly every plant she had ever expressed any particular interest in or love for. There was even the tall japonica-tree, and one fine lemlon, besides precious English daisies, such as grew on her own mother's grave; under the shadow of the ivy-clad church. The furniture too, how natural it looked; how much like TRANSPLANTED FLOWERS. 41 home. Hetty questioned with herself whether it were in- deed only that morning that George aud she were married. It seemed to her as if they had always been married, and this had always been their home! page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] V. "I 've often wondered, 'honest Luath, What sort of life poor dogs like you have; An' when the gentry's life I sav, What way poor bodies lived ava." ROBnERT BURNS. THE village of Cedarville had grown up, or rather sprung up, for it was never known to grow at some remote point of antiquity; perhaps the beauty of the site' had had some generative quality, and its twenty or thirty houses had- emerged spontaneously, full-grown, just where the hand of an, artist would have placed them., -HaviRng once emerged, however, they had been kept in existence and tolerable re- pair, partly by the good condition of the farms in the country lying around, and -l Aiefly by the neighborhood of the Lee estate, by whose combined patronage were sustained one minister and one doctor, one tavern, one store, and one black- smithery, one tailor, and shoemaker, one milliner, one dress- maker, and one of every other kind of artisan essential to the entity of a. village. Besides these, there were several small farmers, whoseO possessions ran baclk fromn a narrow frontage, up and down the hill, on either side of the one street. That one street was no straight line, pointing due north and south, drawn by chain and needle, and stalking prag- A ROSE-BUD AND A YOUNG THSTLE. 43 mntically over every man's property without asking leave, or license. It was no segment of a turnpike road, stretched 'taut and tight,' over the country, in defiance of the pre- vailing curve of beauty, and looking as prim and awkward as a village girl in stays among the rustic graces. The Cedarville street was as ductile as a river; undulating up and down, and round about the knolls and eminences that thrust themselves out in all sorts of irregularities, on those sloping hill-sides. It was a grass-grown street, save where the carriage-tracks marked the line of travel with a thread of brown enameling on a green ground, winding about to avoid the rough places, meekly turning the corners of large gray boulders that protruded themselves in its path, or sway- ing deferentially to the one side or the other of majestic trees, that grew incontinently in the verdant bosom of the street, usurpers of the right of way, or circling around the clumps of cedars, which survived, here and there, to attest the propriety of the village name-mementoes of a growth that once extensively covered the face of the neighboring hills. Near the center of the village, and on the highest point of ground within its limited extent, stood the old stone church. Stone walls, moss-covered, inclosed its graveyard, and swept with a gentle curve from either side of the church outward to the street. A prim semicircle of poplars, some twelve feet from the stone walls, formed the other side of a carriage-drive, up to the very doors of the church. Next to the graveyard, on the south side, toward Truro, was the old parsonage, directly on the street, protected froi it only by the descent of a little knoll, and a primitive well, which rested' one end of its long wooden beam, heavy with a big stone bound fast by iron clamps, on the very spot page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] " A ROSE-BU, where the road, if straight, would have rin. A long and low story-and-a-half house, built of shingles, the oldest and least cared for house in the village, broken-backed, as the down- ward curve in the roof testified, crazy-looking and dilapidated, was the parsonage. Here liVed, in single blessedness and un- complaining, nay, cheerful discomfort, good, modest, sensible, worthy Mr. Poole. Did any one suspect that the brightest sunlight in the village streamed from the neglected old par- ,sonrage, and had its particular source in the qiiaint little study, where the good pastor, with such light from without as could get in at the diminutive, cracked panes of the long, narrow windows, communed with God, and gathered things, new and old, from the Lord's treasury? Following the road up in the direction of Truro, Steve Ball's blacksmith shop, and small stone house, Mr1 Slater's store, and whitely painted residence on one side, and the pretty school-house, and Dr. Lowe's grave-looking abode on the other side, were the most noticeable objects. Directly opposite the church was the best and the only modern house in the village, now uninhabited. It went by the name of Bedminster otuse, because built and owned by a Mr. Bedminster; who, having acquired some property in the city of New York, fancied life in the country; but after a year or two in the, quietest of all quiet villages, lost his fancy, shut up the house, and resumed the respectable busi- ness of retail grocer in the city. The house stood some hun- dred yards from the street, and was almost shut out from sight by ornamental trees and shrubbery, in the selection and arrangement of which, Mr. Bedminster had secured, for a consideration, the taste of a celebrated horiculturist. Following down the road from Truro, past the church and AND A YO UNG -TIIISTLE. 45 Bedminster Iouse, you came by a gradual descent to a rivulet; that murmured across the road, and went winding alout the fields on the other side, till it found its way, first, into the big mill-pond, and then, in a fuller stream, to the broad river in the far, far distance. By this rivulet, "A trotting burnie winipling through the ground, Its channel peebles, shlning, smooth, in' round," stood the tannery. The tan-pits, and the sheds; and wooden frames for stretching skins, and the large unpainted building in which they were dressed, were on the, south side of the rivulet, among a grove of willows, far back from the street, and a lane led up to then. The modest two-story house, which George 'Hughes and his bride had transformed into love in a cottage, stood'near the street, on the rising ground, the north side of the rivulet, with its kitchen on the end nearest to it, and a little stone dairy further back, directly in the rivulet's path. There was a gate by the brook, and a path running diagonally from the gate to the kitchen door, and another path from the door of the house, to the gate directly in front of it. George Hughes had made still an- other path along the pebbly brink of the rivulet to the dairy, and thence to the back door of the kitchen, and along all these paths he had dug up the ground a yard wide for flowers. Beyond the tannery, and on the south side of the street, was Deacon Hayes' ample stone house, and stretching back from both sides of the street his well-cultivated farm. Further on, were the smaller dwellings of the tailor, and the shoe- i maker. Where the road forked, and one branch led to the mills, stood Tim Whittaker's tavern; and beyond that, there page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] ,46 A ROSE-BUD were only three or four houses before you were out of the village. We have said that Cedarville had its one shoemakier: and so, strictly speaking, it had. Yet, just beyond the villaLge, i the opposite direction from Truro, there ,was another, duly zanho unced by his sign-board, as "James Stryker, Fashion- able Boot and Shoenaker." That James Stryker, "fashionable. boot and shoemaker," had no business in Cedarville, was emplaticaly tlue. lie had learned his trade ,with the village shoemaler, fallen in love with the only child of a widow, and, when the mother died, married the dauglter and took possession of her inheritance. Having thus got a ]house, entertaining, no speculative thoughts of selling it and seelking1 his fortune elsewhere, he at once settled himself, put out his sign, and applied his energies to such work, chiefly in the way of cob- bling old shoes, as came to him. James Stryker was not ambitious, and cobbled on, contented with his lot. The house Mr. Stryker had married into was within ten feet of the road, a story-and-a-half wooden tenement, with a dimin- utive kitchen attached; and, attached to the kitchen, a pigmy shop,' once a shed, till Mr. Stryker's fertile genius boarded up the sides, and inserted in them three small windows. The house had no superfluity in the way of hall or entry. It was one room square; the stairs to the little loft above, ran up one side of the room, the front door opened, when it opened at all, which was seldom, into this room; and in this roon, one window with pale blue, Lnglazed paper hangings, kept Solitary watch over the road, and two windows with green paper hangings, looked out on the hills behind, where the high-post bedstead that stood agaiunst one of them did not A N D A Y O U N G T I S TIS L E. 47 prevent the looking out.. Mr. Stryker's residence was painted white in front, and ied every where' else. The garden ran along by the road, on the side furthest from the kitchen. The front yard was unornamented, save by a ragged group of lilacs, a chance growth of weeds and grass, and two or three hap-hazard, zig-zag patls. A well-worn paling marked the extent of Mr. Stryker's territories, 'and bore evidences of an occasional coat of white-washing, which was washed off almost as fast as it was washed on. H :ere lived Jim Stryker, the son of James Stryker, i ; fashionable boot and shoemaker"; what could he ever have to do with Nellie Lee, who lived in the noble mansion at the other end of the village? For six years they had liv'ed within sight of the same church steeple, without seeing each other: at least, Nellie never recollected having seen Jim Stryker, till one morning, when she was, between six and seven, and Jim might be some ourteen years of age. Nellie had that morning ventured further unaccompanied (Prince was with her, to be sure, but le was nobody for protection), than ever before. She had come down to the village by the shortest way, had passed through its one lonig street and advanced into the country beyond as far. as Mr. James Stryker's. She wase skipping along, just as she pleased, with her bonnet in her hand, and her flaxen curls blowing about in the sunlight, when Jim Stryker's ugly dog set up a barking at her. Jim Stryker limnself came out of the house to silence the dog; his red iair stood straight up from a, narrow, but rather high fore- iead; his face was covered with freckles, where it was not )urred too red with the sun for the freckles to show them- selves; his gray eyes were small -and looked savagely out page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 . A R'OS E-B UD 48 A sROE-BUD from eyelids termrinated by invisible 'lashes; his pantaloons of coarse, blue stuff, were hitched on one side, by a siugle suspender, eked out with a leather string, over a raoged shirt; his feet were jbare and dirty. Jim Strykler called the dog inside of the gate, and when he was silenced, took to growling himself. "She lad better be about her business," he said; "the dog would leave ler alone if she left the dog alone." Nellie did not like his ruce- ness at all: she was not frightened by it, she only wondered at it as something new and s tan nge in her experience. She thouglht she likedl the dog's master less than she liked the doo: and she thought that that house, was a place where none but such a boy, and such a dog, would cre to live. She never said a word to Jim Stryker, but she called Prince, and turned and walked away quite demurely. She put her bonnet on her head, and diid not run or skip, but kept think- ing about Jim Stryker and his dog, and their house. Nellie walked on till she came to te little brook. There slh stopped. The rippling water, the round stones, and the little killies, quite drove out of her mind Jim Stryker and his dog and their house. She found it very amusing to walk over the big stones, instead of the bridge. She tried to make Prince imitate her, but he would loap over at a bound, and was too dainty to wet even the soles of his feet. "Take care, little girl, or you will slip in," said a pleasant voice. It was slch a bright, rosy, smiling face that looked down upon her over the paling, that Nellie had a great mind to ask whose, itwas. And it was such a bright, fair, sminling face that looked up at the rosy one, that the rosy face could not help asking the fair one, lhose it was. . AND A YOUNG THSTLE. 49 "What is your name?" asked the rosy face. i Helen Lee; they call me ' Nellie.'" "'May I call you' Nellie ' 1" "To be sure you may. But what shall I call you?" "My name is Letitia Hill-oh, no, Iughes, I mean. They used to call me "'Hetty,' so my name is something like, yours." , a "Hetty and Nellie," repeated Nellie," Hetty and Nellie. Is n't that funny?" and she laughed as if it were an irresist- ible joke. "But why did you say that your name was Hill, when it's Hughes? Don't you know your own name i " "Oh!" and the rosy face grew rosier, "I was only mar- ried yesterday, and I am not used to my new name yet." Qnly married yesterday!" and Nellie laughed as if that' was the funniest of all jokes. "Why then you are a bride, and ought to receive calls. May I come in and call upon you (" ' Yes, indeed ;" and, Hetty opened the gate to let her little visitor in. Nellie met her with an air of mock gravity, and courtesy- ing very low and speaking very demurely, she said: "How do you do, Mrs. Hetty Hughes? I wish you joy." Her salutation was returned with proper etiquette; and then both laughed outright. "What kind of flowers are you planting, Mrs. Hughes 2" asked Nellie; for that lady had a trowel in hand, and there were roots and papers of seeds, and bundles of cuttings strewied along the paths. "All kinds. These are violets here; double violets, sweet- er than the common ones. Did you ever see any s" "Oh, yes," said Nellie. + "Do you like flowers?" asked Mrs. Hughes. page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 50 A ROSE-BUD "Oh, yes," said Nellie, giving strong emphasis to both the interjection and affirmation, "H'ere is one our gardener gave me this morning. -He said /it was like me," and she pulled a yellow crocus out of her bosom. "Why did he say that was like you?" "He said the crocus was a saucy little thing, that came up laughing and bright when every thing lse looked grave and sober, and so he said it was like me. I suppose he thinks I laugh too much. Sister Charlotte says I would be quite pretty, if I did not laugh so much." "Does she?" asked Mrs. H-ughes with aplparent surprise. "Yes," answered Nellie innocently, and then asked, as a new thought occurred to her, "Where did you live, Mrs. Hughes, before you were married?" "In New York," she answered; " where do you live?" "I live at Truro. Do you know where that is?" "Seems to me I have heard the name before," and. Mrs. Hughes tried to recall what association she had with it. Is it far. from here?" "Oh, no;' it is just on the hill. Look, you can see the house over the trees up there. Do you like being married, Mrs. Hughes?" "Yes," she answered, smiling. "Would you like to be married?" "I should like it if brother Robert were my husband. He was married last vear. Sister Theresa didn't make as pretty a bride as you, though." Hetty began to have some glimmering remembrance now of when she had heard of Truro. "What," she asked quickly, did you say your last name was, Nellie?" ; Lee," answered Nellie. AND A YOUNG 'THSTLE. 51 "Yes, so it is," said Hetty, thoughtfully. "Did you have any presents when you were, married?" asked Nellie in her quick way, "sister Theresa had a great miany." Mrs. Hughes took her to see her flowers. "Those were her bridal presents," she said. Nellie thought they were pretty; but queer presents to give a bride. "Sister Theresa had jewels of all sorts and a great many other things which she did not bring with her to Truro." Nellie grew animated in' describing Theresa Lee's bijouterie; but Hetty Hughes hardly heard her: she was thinking how strange it was, that she should be talking to Robert Lee's sister, and should have come as a bride to the very place where his bride had come; but she envied that bride neither her costly trinkets, nor her handsome hus- band. Nellie was so pleased with the English daisies, that Mrs. Hughes put some in a very little pot, and the child. scampered away with them to put them in' her own corner in her father's green house, till it should be warm enough to trans- plant them into her own little garden. The very first Sunday after Hetty Hughes came to the tannery, and Nellie Lee had scraped acquaintance with her, it so happened that Mr. Poole urged upon his parishioners the duty of sending their children to the Sunday school. He said that all the baptized children of the church be- longed to the one body; were members of the same family; were equally under the care and discipline of God's house, and should be associated in receiving Christian instruction; that in the Sunday school some were taught what they never page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 A ROSE-BUD could learn at home,; and others were brought under pious influences, which were not necessarily exerted at home, or which, at least, gave additional zest and force to parental and domestic training: and that all should come, if for no other reason, for example's sake, and for the purpose of lessening and softening the lines of social demarcation. Nellie had never attended Sunday-school; but she was to go now. Jim Stryker was to go, too; Mr. Poole had talked to his parents about it, and they had said he should. So that very afternoon, Nellie Lee found herself sitting side by side, as it chanced, on the same bench, with Jim Stryker, waiting, with other new scholars, to be properly distributed among the classes. Nellie recognized Jim Stryker, and wished he did not sit quite so close to her: very happy she was when Mr. Poole led her away from the uncomfortable proximity; and happier yet, when Mr. Poole consigned her to the care of her new friend, Mrs. Hetty Hughes, who, like herself, was there for the first time. If Nellie recognized Jim Stryker, he was not conscious of her presence. Older and larger than most of the scholars, he felt awkward and abashed': he thought; every one was looking at him, and did not dare look at any one. Not that Jim was troubled with modesty, or even diffidence: he was rather bold and self-confident, and after that first day was as much at his ease in the Sunday-school as any one. The Sunday-school met in the pretty school-house near the store. The classes in which Hetty and Jim were placed, sat on opposite benches on either side of the superintendent's desk, not ten feet apart. If either looked up from their book they were sure 'to look in the other's face. And there they looked at each other, without ever speaking, Sunday after AND A YOUNG THSTLE. 53 Sunday, till they became used to it, and as much expected to see each other in the Sunday school, as they did to see their teachers. -Thus Nellie Lee and Jim Stryker grew up together in the same village, seeing each other but once a week, seldom hearing of each other, never exchanging words: one, the child of wealth, refinement and culture; the other, the asso- ciate of ignorance and rudeness, and hardly raised above suf- fering poverty; the two moving in circles so separate and distinct, that all intimacy, and even possibility of connection seemed for ever interdicted. page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 'V J Himnjo'n^ fut iamun&lh. "He speaks plain cannon, fire, and smoke, and bounce; He gives the bastinado with his tongue; Our ears are cudglc'd." SHAKSPEARE. MR. AMOS GRAVES, to -whose class in the Sunday- scholI Jim Stryker was assigned, signified his inten- tion of calling upon Jim's parents on the ,next Saturday afternoon. The expectation of this visit kept the Strykers in a state of nervous excitability during the rest of the week; it was a fomenting source of dcisquietude, diffusing itself throughout the whole household and coilfusing the ordinary routine of domestic operations ; it, hurried the washing on Monday, and the ironing on Tuesday, and set the scrubbing-brushes to work on Thursday; it made Jim surly and Cinthy reck- less, Scip the ugly cur snarlish, and the red, sleepy, swill- fed cow disposed to kick at milking; it sharpened the im- patience of Mrs. Stryker's voice, and silenced the lugubrious songs withl which Mr. Stryker, "fashionable boot and shoe- maker,' was wont to solace the hours devoted to cobbling, and it plunged that gentleman into frequent fits of abstract- ed reflection. How an. expected visit from Mr. Graves, who would stay, when he did come, only a few minutes, hardly long enough ,. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. ,55 to observe whether "things were to-rights," or to-wrongs, could mix itself up in all the household "chores" and thoughts, requires for its explanation some acquaintance with Mr. Graves himself. Hi was a man to make an im- pression; a visit from him could be no ordinary affair; and a visit from hinm, forminily announced a week beforehanid, would have been anticipated with trepidation by other fam- ilies in the village, more used to Sunday-school teachers than were -the Strykers. Mr. Amos Graves ("young Mr. Graves"Cedarville people called him; they called him so, not because he was youth- ful either in years, or in appearance, but because he was a clerk in Slater's store, and from time immemorial juvenility had been a supposititious characteristic of clerkship in the Cedarville store;) Mr. Amos Graves was pious. His piety stood out from his character on every side in bold relief; you could not look at him wthout seeing it, nor hear him speak without hearing it. His black, straight hair, his square, exact shoulders, his measured, sedate walk, his se- rious voice, his solemn mranners, his' entire innocence of the remotest approach to hilarity and his invariable habit of twisting every theme. of conversation into a means of :re- ligious improvement, all testified, that through and through, from his lheart's core outward to the extremity of the long forefinger with which he gesticulated; Mr. Graves was pious. Mr. Amos Graves was an exotic 'in Cedarville. He had come to Cedarville from the neighboring o town of Mont- gomery, where he had served a long apprenticeship, and had enjoyed religious privileges, the want of which he was ever lamlenting. The tone of piety in Cedarville did not ac- cord with his. Mi'. Poole's preaching lacked. life and power. page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] 56 DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. There was little alarming or arousing in his ministrations. He seemed to take it for granted that all who professed to be Christians, were Christians, and that those who made no profession, were almost persuaded to be Christians. In- structive preaching was good sometimes, but Mr. Poole was too instructive. Mr. Amos. Giaves was not a saint, the good old ladies of Cedarville to the contrary notwithstanding. Neither was he a hypocrite. If Steve Ball, the blacksmith, called him a hypocrite, it was because Steve Ball did not like to be talked to in so serious a way, and did not relish Mr. Graves tee- total temperance opinions, and .did not have very clear no- tions of the exact definition of that easily misapplied epithet "a hypocrite," and was not ever very nice and accurate in the use of language.. Mr. Graves, whatever Steve Ball, Tim Whittaker, and men like them might say, was a-good, sin- cere man, without intellectual force, and scant of common sense; and his associations in life had not supplied these natural deficiencies, or rectified an innate want cf tact andl discrimination. His mind, destitute of sentiment, dwelt upon the more salient points of religion, and in his endeavor to let his light shine, he emulated the burning brilliance of tihe sun, forgetful that his rush-light could not shine beyond the limits of a very narrow and modest illumination. But, how- ever inopportune or offensive might be the pious efforts of "young Mr. Graves" to make others good, he was himself a good man; Mr. Poole said so; Mr. Poole never said suchl things lightly. Saturday came. Dinner at the Strykers' was a hurried meal. Through the whole afternoon a constant look-out was maintained, as if Mr. Graves could leave the store at an DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. 57 early hour. Mrs. Stryker, having completely "done up" her work, was sadly in want of occupation, and indulged herself in such nliaternal and conjugail endearments as she was accustomed to give vent to, such for instance as the fol- lowing: "I say, Jim, you have n't washed your feet." "I say I have," was the surly reply. "You, Cinthy, you, keep off that 'ere gate I tell you now; if you do break them hinges, I 'll give you a walloping." "Yes 'm," answered COnthy, still swinging as hard as ever, till the leather hinges creaked. "James," speaking to her husband, "hain't you finished them slippers? It's jist one month this day since Sue Stokes ordered them. And there's Tom Spear comes a'most every day to ask for hizzen, till I'm most a tired to see, or answer 'm." These episodes were varied by an occasional resort to the yellow-horn comb, that lay convenient for family use, on the shelf or bracket which supported the broken looking-glass in its cherry frame; and Mrs. Stryker smoothed her golden locks till they could be no smoother. Mrs. Stryker was a tall, bony, red-haired, energetic woman. Mr. Stryker was slow, easy, and imperturbable. Cynthia, their youngest child, was a frightened-looking, heedless, homely creature, some ten years old. Jim took after his mother in looks and character. He was not like her, impetuous, nor subject, as she was, to fits of anger; he was always cross-grained and impracticable, uniting a good share of his father's obstinacy'to his mother's activity, and having a dash of Ciinthy's timidity, where there was a show of power or cause for alarm. 8 D page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 58 DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND., After a weck's preparation, when at last, late in the afternoon, Mr. Graves made his appceariance, the family were unprepared for his reception. Cinthy, having given the gate an uncomfortable hang downward, by hanging herself upon it the whole afternoon, discovered him in the far distance, an- nounced his approach, and straightway hid herself on the stairs in the little parlor. Jim marched, whistling, to his utsual hiding-place, the cow-shed. Mrs. Stryker, seized with a sudden panic, shut the door, dragged the table into the middle of the room, filled a basin with water, and, when Mr. Graves knocked, was scouring the table with all her might. Mr. Stryker was too hard at work, on Sue Stokes' slippers, to be supposed to hear the knock. Mr. Graves knocked. Mrs. Stryker opened the door half- way, and stood in the opening, wash-cloth in hland, the image of inhospitality. "How do you do, Mrs. Stryker?" Mr. Graves formally in- quired. "Tol'able. How is't with yerself? "I am thankful to say that I am well, Mrs. Stryker." "Praps you'll walk in and set a minute," and Mrs. Stryker opened the door. "Thank you, ma'am;" he walked in and helped himself to a chair. "Don't let me disturb you, Mrs. Stryker."' "I hain't doin nothin ;" and Mrs. Stryker hastened to wipe off the table, and remove the litter she had so unnecessarily made. "Is Mr. Stryker at home?" "I 'll see." The tap of his hammer was distinctly audible, and Mrs. Stryker knew he was in as well as she knew he had not been out the whole afternoon. 1) A MOD C UT DIAMOND.. 59 Mr. Stryer ' was in,' and came in, and shook hands with Mr. Graves, and took his seat on the door-step. You were working, Mr. Stryker." Mr. Stryker nodded. "The Bible says, continued Mr. Graves," ' Work while it is called to-day.' I hope, sir, you 'll not neglect that work. You must give account 'of yourself in the next world, and you 're an awfully wicked man, Mr. Stryker." "H-a-y?" interrupted Mr. Stryker, with a sudden start, unusual in him, but not preventing his habitual drawl. "I say," repeated Mr. Graves, ' that you, Mr. Stryker," and Mr. Graves pointed his finger at him, by' way of designation, or emphasis, " are an awfully wicked man!" Look-a-here, Mis-ter Gr-a-ves," and Mr. Stryker assumed an attitude of contemptuous indifference, "it hain't manners, to blackgaurd a man in his own house, and as what you say hain't true, andc my old woman knows it hain't, and you know 't 'aint, you'd better take care how you say't agin." Mr. Graves waited till Mr. Stryker had' delivered himself, in his slow way, of this, for him, remarkably long and ener- getic utterance, and then' replied with all the solemnity pecu- liar to himself. "Mr. Stryker, your good opinion of' yourself is only a proof of the dreadful depravity of your heart. Your whole soul is corrupt: from the crown of your head to the sole of your feet, there is. no soundness in you. You are covered with runnnig sores-I speak morally, or lspiritually, Mr. Stryker. You are in the broad road that leads to death. If you should die now, you would be damned. Do you love God? /Do you serve Him-? Do you pray to Him? Do yOu honor Him? No, Mr. Stryker. You do not. I fear page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 DIAMON'D CUT DIAMOND. you seldom ever think of Him; and now, Mr. Stryker, with- out going further, have I not shown that you are an ' caful' sinner?" . "S'pose you have," drawled Mr. Stryker, "if it's total de- pravity, as Mr. Poole calls it,-A s'pose I 've got it." "Yes, Mr. Stryker, you have: and you, too, Mrs. Stryker; and you are both going to the wrath to come." Mrs. Stryker grew red in the face. "I have come, my friends," continued Mr. Graves, "to re- prove you for your sins; especially for the way in which you bring up your children." This was too much for Mrs. Stryker's temper. She spunked up now, fiercely. "Hain't my son Jim honest, Mr. Graves?" she interrupted. "Yes, ma'am, so far as I know." "Hain't he industrious?" "I believe so." "Hain't he got as good schoolin as we could 'ford to give 'm, better larnin nor mine nor hizzen," pointing to her husband. "I do not question it, ma'am." Mrs. Stryker looked as if she would like to ask what he was "jawin about," then. But she smothered her wrath, while 'Mr. Graves explained himself, "Yes, Mrs. Stryker, all that you say is true. But you have neglected the one thing needful. You have not taught him to, seek first of all the kingdom of God." Mrs. Stryker loqked down, and began plaiting her apron. But she was not yet vanquished, and entered strenuously on self-defense. "I take him to church, Sunday, Mr. Graves. I tell 'm not to lie, nor steal, nor swear. I taught him to say ' Now I lay DIAMOND CUT DIAMO NI). 61 me down to sleep,' when he was a youngster. And if I hain't sent'm to Sunday-school afore, it were because we live so fur, :and it were n't al'ays convenient." "Mrs. Stryker," Mr. Graves replied, in the same calm, dc- termined way in which he had spoken before, "it is my duty to tell you that you ought to have /done more, much more for the spiritual interest and eternal salvation of your son. You ought to make him read the Bible every day. You ought to talk to himn about death, judgment and eternity. You ought to pray for him. Above all, you ought to seek a new heart for yourself, that you may set him a good example, and lead him in the right way." These were home-thrusts. Mrs. Stryker winced under then, but thought it wise to attempt no reply. Mr. Graves resumed, in a milder and more winning tone; "Mrs. Stryker, you wish to do your duty to your children. I hope you Will begin now, and will second my efforts in be- half of your son's everlasting welfare. Please, Mrs. Stryker, be particular to send him regularly and punctually to school on Sundays, and have an eye to his learning his lessons faith- fully. Will you, Mrs. Stryker?" He paused for a reply, and Mrs. Stryker faintly murmured something about " trying to." Mr. Graves asked to see Jim. After many unavailing calls at the front and the back doors for Jim, and for Cinthy, the latter emerged from her hiding-place, and sought and found Jim under the cow-shed. Mr. Graves addressed him in his usual startling style. Jim liked it. It was. spiced to lis taste, and secured his attention by alarming his fears. Mr. Graves, before leaving, asked and obtained permission to offer a prayer; and his prayer was so earnest, appropriate, page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 DIA OND CUT' DI AIIOND. and Christianlike, that it obliterated the impression of un- pleasant feelings from Mr. Stryker's mind, and soothed the irritability of his wife. Such was Jim Stryker's Sunday-school teacher. Teacher and scholar were admirably suited to each other. If Mr. Graves frightened Tommy White, who shrank away from him to the furthest end of th-e bench, and made Bill Ball laugh in his face by what Bill called, " his solemncholy sighs," and "thunder and lightning" exhortations, he did more for Jim Stryker than a gentler teacher could have effected: his bold, direct accusations, ]his fierce denunciations of sin, and his startling appeals took hold of Jim Stryker's conscience, and wrung harsh music out of his heart, the chords of which could only vibrate to a bold touch, and a nervous hand. w X ' VII. 601itle zriaixh l. MO1 WiffU3 FllUta "You came to this life about a necessary and weighty business, to tryst with Christ anent your precious soul, the eternal salvation of it: this is the most neces- sary business ye have in this life; and your other adocs, besidle thi s,are but toys, and feathers, and drcanis, and fancies; this is in the greatest haste, a,' should be done first." SAIMUEL tRUTHERFFOrD. A BOUT the time that Mr. Graves was leaving the Sirykers, Nellie was tripping up the garden walk of the tannery with a bunch of flowers, and a face more radiant than they. She entered by the green-house door, for that stood open. Her bounding step was arrested on the threshold by the sound of a manly voice-in prayer. She had never seen Mr. Hughes, but was sure the voice was his, it was so pleasant, just such a voice as her teacher's husband would be likely to lave. She stepped softly to the open glass door that led into the kitchen. The table against the opposite wall, covet(d with a white cloth, shiowed that George and his wife lad just finished their supper. The Bible lay where George's plate had been, and George and 'his wife knelt side by side, with their backs to the tablle, and their faces toward the door. Nellie, following her childish impulse, knelt too. The prayer was simple; if it had been made for the purpose, it could not have been better adapted to her comprehension. Never before had she listened attentively and intelligently to a prayer from beginning to end; now, she was so interested page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] " GENTLE TRAINING, that the others were risingu from their knees before she stirred; she hardly knew the last word was pronounced, for it was not a loud and abrupt, but a soft and. gentle 'amen,' that George and Iletty breathed out together. What a pretty picture, it was, that presented itself to Hetty, when she opened her eyes. The little girl witl clasped hands and closed eyes, kneeling under the japonica- tree: one large flower (just such a one as Hetty had, once watched from its budding to its blooming) directly over her head, and her own forgotten flowers lying on the floor before her. It was a singular combination. That child, under that japonica-tree; the white flower like heavenly innocence, almost touching her brow, and the brilliant bouquet lying' rejected on the ground, as if an embleml of the discardedl pleasures of this world. 'Hetty Hughes hlad a poetical tem- perament, and read the picture and its emblematic. su'ges- tions with a quick apprehension of its beauty, and their sig- nificance. The serious impression that the prayer imprinted on Nellie's face, passed quickly away, and the beaming smile came back as she gave the. flowers to Mrs. Hughes, and an- swered the salutations of Mr. Hughes. She staid but a minute, for she was not so free to talk before the grave hus- band as she was to the sprightly wife. Hetty Hughes found herself prompted to the work of self- examination that night. Why did she take so lively an in- terest in that child, more than in any other of her new pupils? Was it merely owing to the attractive beauty and manners of the child? or, was there not, partly at least, an interest in her as the sister of Robert Lee? and did she not AND PRECIOUS FRUITS.. . 65 feel that interest deepened and quickened, when she saw the child kneeling under the japonica-tree? and did she not at that moment associate her with that brother? All this she had to confess. But why was it so? wlhy should she re- member Mr. Lee at all? why, above all, should she love any- one for his sake? She believed it was her duty to analyze these feelings, and fearlessly and candidly to deal with the truth. WTas she sorry that that early dream of love had not proved a reality? No. Did she not love George Hughes dearly, dearlyt, and would she not rather have him a dozen times over than Robert Lee, though he was a rich and hand- some gentleman? Yes, she was sure of it. Had she ever really and earnestly loved Robert Lee? ]o; she had enter- tained toward him only .a flattering, romanitic sentiment, which might have ripened into something more true and tender, had'he proved woithy. Then, what were her feelings toward Mr. Lee at this time? Did she hate him? No. Did she despise him? No.. Did she even dislike him? No. Had he given ler just cause to do either?' No, she believed not. They had fancied each other, undoubtedly; and he, thought- lessly perhaps, had visited the old green-house in New York, always on soie plea of business, not knowing that the place had a peculiar attraction to himself; not suspecting that he might be exciting in the mind of a very young and inex- perienced girl, hopes of more intimate relations, which she could not regard as he did, as absurd and not to be thought of. This, she now saw, was the true state of the case: and she felt assured that she might love Nellie Lee, even for her brother's sake; and might associate her with thzat japonica- tree. Yes, that flower, that overhung Nellie's head should repay her for any pain which a flower, which once grew page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] " GGENTLE TRAINING, there, had caused. She would regard Nellie as especially given her to love and to bles': perhaps it was for this, as well as for certain valuable lessons on life anld duty, that some things had been perniitted to happen. Hetty came back fior these thoughlts to the delilghtful conclusion that she did love dear George Itughes with all her heart: and she went to him, where lie sat by the open door that looked toward the tannery, and smoothing back his hair from his broad, dark forehead, kissed hill so lovingly that George had to give iher the kiss back again. George was something of a necromancer. He could read others' thoughts. At least, so his wife opined, for lhe always read her transparent heart. Had he been thinking all this while about his tannery, toward which his eyes were directed? ietty half doubted it, for his first words were so appropriate to what she had been thinking about. "Hetty," he said, drawing her down to his knee, "He that knoweth the end from the beginning, and ordereth all things according to his wise and holy purpose, links the events of our lives together in such a way that one draws another after it as a necessary consequence; and often it is a pleasant consequence of a disagreeable antecedent. Many a thing happens, not for its ownl sake, but to prepare the way for,' and interest our minds in something far different, and far more desirable. The Psalmist, having described the provi- dence of God toward thl children of men in many particu- lars, concludes with this admonitory promise: "Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall under- stand the loving-kindness of the Lord.' Nellie's visits to the tannery were often repeated. Some- AND PRECIOUS FRUITS. 67 times she went to carry a plant, begged from the gardener of Truro; sometimes to see whether a bud near blooming in Mrs. Hughes' garden had opened; and sometimes she went simply because she liked to go, nor was it seldom that George and Hetty Hughes, when they rose from their knees at evening prayer, were greeted with the smile of little Nel- lie Lee. But come when she would, and for what she would, she was always welcome. She soon learned that Mr. Hughes' quiet, grave ways, were very cheerful ones, and she felt almost as much freedom with him as .with " cousin Hetty," as she chose to call her teacher. The youngest of a large family is apt to be both the most neglected and the most petted. This was the case with Nellie Lee. Whatever attempts at the education of the minds and hearts of their elder children Mr. and Mrs. Lee had personally put forth, were exhausted before Harry and Nellie came in for their share. Mrs. Lee was incapable of exerting a very positive influence of any kind; she was, a quiet, gentle, sensitive, lady-like cypher in the world, loving retirement, truly conscientious and blamelessly good without force of intellect or wiill, in religious matters scrupulously governed by Mr. Poole, and in all others religiously con- trolled by her husband. Mr. Lee, while fondly indulgent to his children, never entered largely into their sympathies, nor seemed sensible of any special responsibility in regard to their training. Ite could not indeed treat Nellie just as he did his, other children. She was not one to be thrown off and uncared for. She would force herself upon attention. She would be noticed and she would be loved. The father was attracted to her more and more as the unique and not unlovely traits of her character disclosed themselves. Yet page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] O8 . GEGENTLE TRAINING, the interest he felt in her failed to arouse him to a sense of duty, or to any effort to influence the development of her character for good. The lack of discipline on the part of the parents, was not supplied by the elder brothers and sisters. .Norton, the only one capable of it, was away from home ; Robert was too mucl a man of the world; and Rupert too much a man of the turf; Charlotte and Emma were too much engrossed with themselves; and Maria was too inefficient, if she had been old enough. So Harry and Nellie grew up as they might. Harry, indeed, at an early age, passed froml under home influences to those of the boarding-school. Nellie was left, in a manner, all alone. Even the nurse who was hired to take care of her infancy, was appropriated as ladies' maid by Charlotte and Emma, so soon as Nellie could possibly dispense with her services. And Madame Duponceau, the governess, was too much occupied in finishing off the educa- tion of the elder sisters, to bestow much attention on the elementary instruction of the youngest. So Nellie was over- looked by all who might have exerted an influence over her. She ran wild with Prince, her dog; and did what she chose, and when she chose, without license, or hinderance. What would have worked the ruin of most children, did Nellie less injury than a slight degree of over-restraint might have done. Affectionate, warm-hearted, and full of hilarity, it was hard to spoil her by giving her too much liberty. The only serious faults this wrought in her character, were self-will and impetuosity, manifesting themselves in outhursts of anger when unused opposition was offered to her wishes as brief as they were violent. Here the Sunday-school teacher's gentle influence was felt for good. AND PRECIOUS, FRUITS. 69 None but the joyous, childlike spirit of Hetty Hughes could entirely comprehend and sympathize with the un- tamed, frolicsome spirit of her little pupil, They loved and understood each other, for both loved the flowers, the birds, the bubbling brook, the loud and mirthful laugh, and merry and blithesome songs. What wonder then if the one soon led the other to the love of Jesus. "Oh, cousin Hetty," cried Nellie, one day, "here is a new flower I never saw before. What is it?" "That is the lily of Palestine, Nellie. I found that one bulb in an old desk, where father had put it for safety, and where it was likely never to be found again." "I thought the lily was white," answered Nellie, "but this is a beautiful scarlet." "That explains what Jesus said," replied a pleasant voice behind her, not cousin Hetty's but George Hughes': "Con- sider the lilies of the field how they grow: they toil not neither do they spin; and yet I say unto you, that even Solo- mon in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. " George had come into the garden in search of his wife, and engaged her attention some time in conversation. When George was gone, Hetty' observed that Nellie was seated on the grass, looking at the lily, and apparently lost in an un- usual fit of musing. ' What are you thinking about, Nellie?" she asked. "I was thinking about flowers and things," she answered, abstractedly; and then, as if suddenly waking up, she asked with animation. "Cousin Hetty, do you think Jesus loved 'flowers?" "I do not doubt it, Nellie. But he loved little children better. He never said much about the flowers, nor, so far page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 GENTLE TRAINING, as we are told, gave them much attention. Perhaps, Nellie, He was too busy." "Too busy! Did he carry on any business? I hope He was n't a tanner, for I can hardly love even Mr. Hughes for having such an ugly business." "No,7' Mrs. Hughes answered, laughing. "He was not a tanner. It is supposed He was a carpenter, though. But it was not any such kind of business I meant. H-e was busy another way. Even when He was a boy, not much older than your brother Harr;y, He said to His mother 'Wist ye not thatl I must be about my Father's business?' " "Wh t did He mean?"Nellie asked. "Iie meant the busilness of His Father in Heaven." "And what was that?"' she asked again. "It was to make a way by which we could go to Heaven, and to teach us what that way is." "Oh, yes. I understand now what you mean. I never thought before, though;, that this kept him very busy. But, Cousin Hetty, how (do you know that He loved little children. more thaln He loved the flowers?" Cousin Hetty seated herself on the ground and with a very serious voice repeated the words, "' What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and-lose his own soul: or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?'" "Do stop, Cousin Hettly, and please tell how you know that Jesus' loved children." "Why, I was going to tell you," answered her teacher, in the same voice. "If Jesus valued the soul more than the whole world, flowers and all-of course He must have loved f ' AND?RECIOtTS FRUITS. 71 little children who have immortal souls, far better than the flowers." Nellie looked thoughtful and dissatisfied. "Cousin Hetty," she said after a little, "that is not a good answer." "' Is not a good answer' ' Why not?" asked her teacher, perplexed. "I don't know why: only it don't answer the question I asked, whether Jesus loved children, bettter than flowers?" Hetty Hfighes sat and thought for sonme time. At last the light broke in upon her and she laughed at her own simplicity. In the anxiety of 'the teacher, she had answeredl as a teacher, and not as a child. "I know what you mean now, Nelie,"' slhe said. "Yes, Jesus liked, or 'loved,' as you call it, little children even 'better than He did the flowers. lie liked to watch them, and listen to them, and fondle them. He tells us in one place just how they used to play, and I never read thie passage without thinking of Him sitting in the temple, watching the little things, and listening to every word they spoke. And then when they brought young children to tim to bless them, He not only blessed them, but took thenm up in His arms and laid His hands upon them. And another time He put a little child on His knee, and preached to his disciples a ser- mon about the child." "Cousin Hetty, if I get the Bible, will you read me those places?" Yes." Nellie scampered off to the house, and returned again in a minute with the Bible, and Mrs. Hughes read these words: "They are like unto children sitting in the market-place, page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 GENTLE TRAINING., and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto you and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you and ye have not wept." And they broughlt young children to Him, that He should touch them; and his disciples re- buked those that brought them.- But when Jesus saw it, He was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto Mie, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall, not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. And He took them nup in his arms, put His hands upon them, and blessed them." "And He took a child and set him in the midst of them: and when Ile had taken hm in His arms, He said unto them, Whosoever shall receive one of such children in My name, receiveth Me." Thus, precept upon precept, line upon line; here a little, and there, a little, the holy Gospel was flowing into the heart of Nellie Lee, and forming her character in Gospel love and tastes and habits. VIII. "Pleasure' that comes unlooked for is thrice welcome; * * * * and the day it came Is noted as a white day in our lives." SAMUEL ROGErnS. ONE evening, a few weeks after they had come to Cedar- ville, George and Hetty Hughes received a call from good Deacon Hayes. "I have called," he said to George, "to ask your name to a subscription. Young folks, just beginning life, ain't ex- pected to give much. But we would n't pass you over on no account, it would n't be neighborly, nor Christian neither." "What is the subscription for i"George inquired. "To repair the old parsonage. Don't know how it is to be repaired, it's so old and shackling. It's gone so long without nothing done to it, it 's most to pieces; shingles off, ceilings down, doors and windows all askew." "I've observed," said George, "its bad condition. I should think it hardly worth repairing." "That's a; fact," the deacon said. "But here, all of a sudden, Mr. Poole 's taken it into his head to get married! Of course the parsonage must be put in some sort of order. There's nobody would care to take him to board, if he brings a wife along, even he wanted them to." "Going to get married!" interposed Hetty, waking up 4 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] '74 ?A' I TE N C E TR I E D : now to the interest of the subject: "I- thought Mr. Poole was a confirmed old bach-elo:." "Mr. Poole is nt a bachelor, he 's a widower." "Is he?" "Yes. I He was 'married when he first came here. But his wife died 'soon after., and he never got another. He 's a contented sort of mnan, and's lived on from year to year, without thinking about it, I guess. His sister took care of him. But she died last winter, and I suppose he 's felt lone- ly and unkempt-like, and so hlas come to the conclusion to get a wife." "I hope he 'll get a good one," said Hetty. "She 's very well spoke of," said the deacon. ".Does she live here " inquired Hetty. "No; she's the widow of a clergyman, off in Pennsyl- vany somewhere." "Has she any children?' was the next question. "I believe not. She were n't carried but a while when her husband died. I suspect she and Mr. Poole felt a sort of fellow-feeling and sympathy for- each other. They've always known each other, folks say." While this conversation was going on between Mr. Hayes and Mrs. Iughes, George was forming a plan of his own.. "Mr. Hayes," he said, at last, " the parsonage, you think is not worth repairing. It was built, I have been told, be- fore the Revolutionary war, and, judging from the outside-- I have never been inside-it would, take more than a revo- lution to make it comfortable. Now I've been thinking it might be a good plan to purchase Bedminster House for a parsonage." Deacon Hayes dropped the subscription book, and gazed "OVE SURPRISED, 75 at George with astonishment on every line of his face. The idea was "pro-dig-i-ous!" as if the minister of Cedarville could live any where but in the old parsonage; or as if the Cedarville people would think of giving the minister the best house in the village. Mr. Hayes was too stupified with the grandeur of the thought to reply, and George resumed: "That property is useless to the owner, and is going to decay. I do not doubt it could be bought cheap. The old parsonage lot might be added to the graveyard, which needs enlarging. Why not, Mr. HayesT " "Tush! nonsense! young man. Don't bring your city notions up here. Your city ministers can live in big houses: their people can afford it; but country ministers must be content to have things not quite so good as their neighbors. You mustin't judge of our means by your city church. We are poor folks here." "Some city churches are poor, too; Mr. Hayes," George replied. "In the one I belonged to, every man of us worked for his living. Most were mechanics, sonme laborers, with a sprinkling of little tradesmen, miilliners, mantua-makers, and so on. Yet we managed to make our minister comfortable, and to give away a good deal besides." "Well, well, Mr. Huglhes, country folks have different ways. Our minister would n't seem like 6ur minister if he lived any where but in the old parsonage. And if he had a better house than the rest of us, he might get proud." "A vice Mr. Poole seems in no danger from," said George, "We 've no fault to find with him in that respect. He's an humble, godly man, sir." "Are his people generally attached to him "George asked. page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 PATIENCE TRIED: "Mr. Podle has n't at enelmy in the world, as I know of. We all love him, and have reason to. To be sure, he's not a great man: many a minister's more learned and eloquent and active. But he suits us. He's been here now-let's see-it's twenty-two years last winter. He does well enough for our plain sort of folks." "I am afraid, Deacon: Hayes," said George, "t the Cedar- ville people hardly know the value of their minister. He seems to me a man of uncommon sense and piety; and, ex- cuse me, Deacon, I judge he is a man of more learning than you imagine. And though. le is not eloquent, as you say, he is one of the most instructive and interesting preachers I ever heard. I think, too, that his twenty-two years minis- 'try has done much to make you the quiet, honest, industri- ous, happy, church-going people you are. I doubt if there is another village in the country where every body goes to church, as they do here." "Yes, sir. Mr. Poole's done a good work. He'll have his reward: and we'll know how to love him better in Heaven. But if we loved him ever so much, we could n't buy Bedminster House--so there 's no use talking up that." "Well, Mr. Hayes; it's not for me, a stranger, to urge the matter. I 'll give what I can toward repairing the old par- sonage." George wrote his name, and glanced over the other names, and the amounts appended to them. "I wish we could buy Bedminster House," said George, speaking, as if to himself. "I almost wish we could," said the deacon, in the' same tone, "Mr. Poole 's worthy of' it." "I do not see Mr. Lee', name here, deacon," said George. "No. We've not called upon him yet," the deacon an- "OVE SURPRISED. " swered. "We usually do what we can in the village, first, and he most always doubles the whole sum of our subscrip- tions." "Mr. Hayes," said George, in a modest, suggestive way, as one that would. not dictate, nor urge his own wishes too far, "suppose you just mention to Mr. Lee-it would do no harmn -that the purchase of Bedminster House, for a parsonage, has been spoken of: ask him what he thinks of it." Mr. Hayes turned the matter over in his mind. "Well," he said at length, "I guess I will. Some how since the notion's got into my head, I rather like it. I don't like giving up the old parsonage, neither. I'd a Icetle rather it would/ tumble down, than be torn down---and that after my old head's too low to see it. Howsoever, it can't stand much longer; and it would be a sort of comfort to me to know, if I was dying, that Mr. Poole would be comfortable when I were n't here to look after him. Fact is, somehow, they've always left the minister to my care, and I hain't taken as good care of him as I might." "Perhaps," said George, "Mr. Lee might take a fancy to the idea, too; who knows?" "Sure enoughl!"' answered the deacon, animated by the hope; "I tell you what I'll do. I'll go directly up to Truro before my courage cools off, and ask Mr. Lee what he does think of it." George volunteered to accompany him, influenced partly by an unwillingness to let the old man take so long ,a walk alone, and partly by the hope that a word or two from him- self would help the matter to a successful issue. Mr. Lee received them courteously, and listened to their errand with interest. The expected marriage of Mr. Poole page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 PATIENCE TRIED: was as surprising to him, as to the rest' of the village. He at once decided that it was impossible to put the old parsonage in proper order. Either they must build a new one, or buy Bedminster House, He requested them to mention the sub- ject to no one else, till they heard from him again. He would think about it, and see what could be done. Time wore on, and Mr, Poole heard nothing in reference to his modest request that some repairs should be made in the old parsonage. He grew nervously anxious. Deacon Hayes seemed impervious to his hints, and always turned off with a "We I attend to it, Mr. Poole, we 'll attend to it." At last, one day, nerved by desperation, the good minister put on his. hat, assumed his most erect attitude, and, without looking to the right or to the left, afraid of even the shadow of a dissuasive thought that might be creeling along beside him, walked directly to Mr. Hayes' house, and, sans ceremo- nial preliminaries, put to iim the direct question, "' Mr. Hayes, I wish you to say, yes, or n6, whether any thing is to be done, to the parsonage?" "Oh, yes, Mr. Poole: I told you so long ago." "But when is it to be done?" asked Mr. Poole, with an- noyed impatience. "Well, let 's see," the deacon began with provoking de- liberation. "You said, I think, you were to be married in August, and cal'clated to be absent three weeks; well, I reckon, that'll be time enough to do all that needs to be done. You need n't make yourself oneasy, Mr. Poole : you'1i find all right when you come back." "Deacon Hayes," Mr. Poole began, compelling himself to speak argumentatively, and not to say all he thought of this "OVE SURPRISED. 79 absurd plan, "Deacon Hayes, it is impossible, impossible to do all that must be done, in three weeks. The roof, the window- shutt6rs, the north chimney, the kitchen floor, the back steps, the-" "Oh there's no use talking about it; Mr. Poole,"' the dea- con interrupted. "We've arranged it all. Just only make yourself easy, and I give 'you my word, Mr. Poole, that the work will and shall be done, by the time you come back." The deacon had never been so impracticable, and refrac- tory. Mr. Poole gave him up in despair. He knew, at least he thought he did, that he should bring his wife to a house (that never could be over comfortable), in most comfort- less confusion; but he resolved to be-what he always was- silent and patient. On a bright day in September, Mr. Poole' returned with Mrs. Poole to Cedarville. A pleasant, quiet face, round, smooth, plump and placid, a face that might have seen forty summers, smiled back upon the villagers, who thronged about their garden gates to smile their welcomes, as the stage rolled through the broad, grass-grown street. As they drew near the church, Mr. Poole became restless. He caught the first possible gliimpse of the old parsonage- alas! his fears were realized: the outside- at least had re- ceived no touch of improvement. Strange that the window- shutters were closed. Hel must have been expected; for his people had bowed and courtesied to him in their best clothes, from' every house they had passed. Miserable for- getfulness to pour all the sunshine of their welcome into the broad street, aild let none into the gloomy parsonage! The stage camle to a dead halt, opposite the church. / . - ' : page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] Mr. Poole gazing over at the deserted-looking parsonage, impatient to penetrate its mysterious silene, did not observe thft Deacon Hayes had opened the door of the coach on the other side, and waited for him to alight; The deacon called his attention. "How d' ye do, Mr. Poole , I wish you.joy, sir." "Oh, deacon. Thank you. Mirs. Poole--Deacon Hayes." Deacon Hayes shook hands very deliberately with Mrs. Poole, ivwhile Mr. Poole wished he would bring his politeness and their journey to an end. "Will you not get out; Mr. Poole ?" "Thank you, deacon. If you will shut the door, the: driver can take us nearer the house." "Well, Mr. Poole, tilhe fact is, we haven't got the old house fixed, and you '11 have to stay here a while.? "Oh-," said Mr. Poole; a very long and unsatisfied oh" it was, as near a growl as Mr. Poole ever uttered in his life. The trunks were deposited in the wheelbarrow of Mlr. Hayes' eldest son, and the mail coach, too dignified to turn into the carriage-way, and carry its passengers to the door of the house, left them standing beside their baggage, and drove off. "I told you it would be so, MrI'. Hayes," said Mr. Poole with a reproachful tone, as they filed' one after another through the open gate. But what in the world," he added, as the singularity of the thing struck him for the first Jime, "what in the world put it into your heads to put us here ? Why did you not write to me, and we could have made other arrangements .? Bave you brought the furni- ture over here." "OVE SUR PRISED. 81 "You 'll see, sir," Mr. Hayes interrupted. "We 've tried to, make you comfortable." What was Deacon Hayes laughing about? Mr. Poole had never seen him so merry. Sarah Hayes met them half way up the garden walk, anld. relieved Mrs. Poole of shawls and baskets. On the piazza stood six green Windsor chairs, newly painted, from the parsonage. Mr. Poole recognized them at once: What were they doing here? There were four more of the same chairs in the broad hall, and on the hall floor a new, shining oil-cloth, and new carpet, and bright, brass rods on the stairs. What did all this mean? Sarah Hayes led the way into the room on the left hand; here too was a new carpet, aud new chairs by the windows; but, in 'the corner stood the old clock, and against the wall, the old sideboard, and in the middle of the room, the old dining-table, so familiar for many a long year to the old parsonage. "Why,' Sarah," exclaimed Mr. Poole, ; you 'have taken a great deal of trouble to make us comfortable here. It seems a pity for the short time we are to stay. Perhaps," he added, smiliigly, " we mnay not be willing to leave it." "I hope you will not, sir," answered Sarah, her good-na- tured face all aglow with happiness. "Mr. and Mrs. Poole," called out Mr. Hayes from the opposite room, on the other side of the entry, "will you please step here?"' They obeyed.' The room they entered was neatly fur- nished as a library. Mr. Hayes seated Mr. Poole in ar arnm- chair, and Mrs. Poole in another, handed Mr. Poole a Smrll tape-tied parcel, and vanished from the room. o page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 P'PATIENCE TRIED: ,Mr. Poole proceeded to examine the contents of the yel- low envelope. These were only two in number, one a for- mnidable looking legal documennt, the other a letter. The first proved to be a deed of gift, from Robert Lee, Esq., to the Trustees of the Cedarville Church, of Bedminster lHouse and property, to be held as a parsonage forever. The mil- ister had to read it over again and again, before he could so clearl thread his way through its superfluous technicalities as to leave no doubt as to the certainty of its sense, the ac- tuality of its munificence. Good man! what a flurry of unused excitement stirred h simple healt, what pleasant agitation suffused his face with modest blushes and smiles of gratification, and vibrated through nerves and muscles to his finger ends. lie took his spectacles off; put them on, took them off again; he laid the paier on the table, then vith a sudden thought for its safety, opened the table-drawer nd laid it there, put his spectacles on it, closed and locked he drawer, and secured the key in his pocket. Then he ame to Mrs. Poole, took both her hands in his,.and while he looked up with a wondering of what he meant to do, he issed her. smiling face on' either cheek. "' Thank you, [rs. Poole, thank you, thalik you, my dear, he said, pour- ig out upon her the gratitude which was swelling in his eart. "For the kiss, or--"Mrs. Poole looked up at him with uiet humor. "Well, well, for every thing," the good minister ansivereJd mewhat abashed. "Suppose you read the other letter," Mrs. Poole suggested. "Oh, yes, I had quite forgotten." Mr. Poole -took his seat,l and searched for his spectacles. :, , , L OVE S U PRI r S E D. 83 Mrs. Poole ca:le to his assistance; every pocket was emptied, floor, table, mantel-piece, book-shelves, every possible and im- possible place examined before they were discovered, safely ensconced under lock and key, in the table drawer. The letter Mr. Poole could hardly read for the tears that would overflow from his eyes. ' To ouR DEAR PASTOR: "We have taken the liberty of appropriating the money originally intended for the repair of the old parson age, to furnishing" the new, as an expression of our love to him, and our wishes for his happiness on the occasion of his marriage. That he may not begin housekeeping with an empty larder, we propose to call in person, on next TWednesday, and tender our respects and congratulations. That his life may be spared, his labors blessed, and the love which binds him to our hearts be 'ever increasing, is our earnest prayer. "In behalf of all his paishioners. "TIMOTHY HAYES. "RO'I fERT LEE. "JAMES LOWE. "GEORGE I:UGHE[ES." The- oppressive sense of joy and gratitude melted under the tears, and his heart relieved of its first emotions, returned to its equable beatinigs--only a joy and hope found place there, where too often fear anld despondency had unnerved the pastor's efforts for his flock. page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] IX. ' r ti at I* m its anI ntmi t . "The Country Parson is exceeding exact in his Life, being holy, just, prudent temperate, bold, grave, in all his ways.-The Parson's yea is yea, and nay, nac; and his apparel plain, but reverend, and clean, without spots, or dust, or smell; the purity of his mind breaking out, and dilating itself even to his body, clothes, and habitation."--GEORGE HERBERT. iEDMNSTER HOUSE made the prettiest parsonage that ever was. It stood far back from the street, on the same knoll, or extended ridge, from which the church over- looked the village. The long distance between the house and the street, was traversed by a path, over-bowered with trees; the carriage-drive started at the same point from the street with the foot-path, but turning immediately to the left, was lost in the trees, and did not appear again in sight of the foot-path till it suddenly emerged, close by the house, and sweeping past the front door, disappeared again on the other 'side of the house, in a grove that concealed the stables. The house itself was two stories high, with dormer win- dows in the Italian villa style, looking out of the roof. The piazza extended across the whole front, and was elevated only one step from the ground. The first room on the right hand side of the hall, was, as we have seen, the study: back of that was a bed-room. On the other side of the hall was the dining-room, and back of that, large pantries and a passage leading to the kitchen which was a separate build- FELICITATIO NS AND PRESE NTATIONS. 85 ing attached to the back of the house. Directly opposite the front door, between the dining-room, and study doors, and in the very centre .of the hall, started the broad flight of stairs; the platform at the head of the stairs was carried out into a large circular window, that projected over the back porch. In this second story was the parlor-over the study and its. adjoining bedroom-extending the whole depth of the house, with windows on three sides, and the front ones cut down to the floor, and opening on the flat and balus- traded roof of the piazza. Opposite the parlor were bed- ,! rooms and a concealed flight of stairs to the attic story, and parts unexplored. Back of the house extended for some little distance, the' kitchen garden, and then the land swept suddenly. downward to the green meadows and glistening -^ river, that lay like a picture in the distance. Bedminster parsonage was the very place for a donation- party. Such a large parlor for the gathering of the ladies, such a comfortable piazza, for the elderly men, such shady walks for the young people, and such labyrinthine windings among the trees, and over the green grass for children's sports. The Wednesday appointed for the first of these parties was bright1, pleasant, and propitious. Not a parish- ioner who could be present was absent. Love to the pastor, curiosity to see the pastor's wife, and pride in the new par- sonage, were motives that brougoht all, even those least ad-. dicted to such gatherings. The pastor was a man to look upon that day. Benig:- nity shone by every power of expression firom his whole per- son, and so illuminated his countenance that he might have been mistaken for a handsome man. You forgot that his form was rather short and stout and his features heavy, save page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 FELICITATI'OIS AND?RE SE IN T . TI O N S. his eyes; even the shiny bald spot in the midst of his dark hair, seemed to add to ti benignaiit beauty of his face; and his new suit of glistering black broadcloth, by the power of contrast at least with the discarded rusty dress of formehr days, increased his personal attractions. But Mr. Poole's handsomeness was that which good men must and only can have, the soul's outshining though "the fleshly mold;" a beauty which ever shone in his clear, hazel eye-an eye "serene, significant, and strong, 'Bright in its quictness, yet brightening oft With quick emotion of benevolence, * * * * and that mirth Which aye with obcr wisdom well accords." Mr. Lee, of Truro, always amosng the foremost to evince respect for the excellent pastor, was almost the first to ar- rive. lie anticipated even Mr. Graves. Mr. Graves, how- ever, was close upon his steps, bearing as his gift a volume of revival sermons, which had been more effective in the delivery than they were like to be in print. The introduc- tion to Mrs. Poole, of Mr. and Mrs. Lee, and their children, Charlotte and Emma, Nellie and Harry, was hardly accom- plished, when Mr. Graves approached, witl a countenance so lugubrious that- Kitty White, a giddy girl, the solitary apprentice of the village dressmaker, declared he had mis- taken the happy occasion for one of funereal sorrow; a re- mark that seemed verified by ' young Mr. Graves,' extraor- dinary salutation to his pastor. "I hope, my dear pastor," he began, "that the Lord will bless this union, and so sanc-, tify to you the loss of your former beloved wife, that you may not set idolatrous affections on this good lady." The painful embarrassment of Mr. Poole, the evident misery of Mrs. Poole, the tittering of the village girls, and E L I T A T I ONS AND PRESENTATIONS. 87 the consternation pictured on older faces, might have led to some still more awkward conclusion, but for the ready wit of lMr. Lee, who begun so immediately a conversation with iMrt. Poole asking, and. himself answering questions, that thlere was no chance even for an awkward pause, and every one else was soon set to talking too. There was some motion at the other end of the room, caused by the entrance of James Stryker with his family, or rather we mioht say with propriety, James Stryker's family, with James Stryker, for he, the proper lhead, was just then at the tail end and the most aDashed of the group. Jim led the van; Mrs. Stryker made less noise, for she did not wear as thick cow-skin shoes, but followed with equal boldness; Cynthia held fast to her mother's dress; and Mr. Stryker followed as far as the door, but there deserted the ranks and slipped sidewise into the. first chair that stood inside of the room. Mr. Poole quickly advanced with Mrs. Poole toward the elbarrassed head of the Stryker family. The crowd naturally followed the pastor and his wife. And Mr. Lee and Mr. Graves found themselves unexpectedly standing alone and deserted, at the. other end of the long room. Mr. Lee with his customary politeness entered into con- versation with young Mr. Graves.. It was one of the pious rules which Mr. Graves had adopted for the govei iment of his life, a life that was entirely governed by rules, always to speak to a fellow-creature of his immortal interests if alny opportunity occurred. An opportunity presented itself now. Mr. Graves was sadly at fault how to proceed. Tie stood in awe of Mr. Lee of Truro, whose elegant and courtly manners repelled him. Some glimmering con- sciousness lhat his usual direct appeals were not the pc1- page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 FELICITATIONS AND PRESENTATIONS. ished weapons that could pierce the conscience of one en- cased, as Mr. Lee was, in the armor of refined cultivation, now kept him silent. IIalf listening and Ihalf turning over in his own mind the ways and means of doing his duty, Mr. Graves" ear caught the word " snake," as Mr. Lee made some allusion to that animal. "Snake!"--it suggested an idea; Mr. Graves instantly seized upon that idea, and inter- rupted Mr. Lee with what he would have called 'a word spoken in season." "'A snake,' you said, sir. A snake, a very suggestive topic. The Scriptures contain many allusions to snakes. Sin is a venomous-viper in the heart. Our Saviour was typ- ified by a brazen serpent. Satan. is the old serpent, the, dragon; and there is a worm--some believe it to be a snake -that never dies. I hope, dear sir, these Scripture truths occupy your attention sometimes. I trust that in all your studies (you are a student I believe, sir), you do not neglect that which the snake so powerfully reminds us of!" 4' Sir," Mr. Lee replied, politely concealing' the smile that played under his assumed gravity, "I can not say that I have paid particular attention to that branch of natural history which relates to reptiles." Mr. Lee moved aw ay firol Mr. Graves as he spoke, passed round the room, speaking to one and another, and soon after, found himself standing by Deacon Hayes on the fiont piazza. The good deacon sat in one of the green Windsor arm-chairs, watching the young people as they flitted about, up and down the garden-walks, over the grass, and in and out among the trees. "How do you do, Mr. Hayes? I am glad to see that rheumatism has not confined you to the house, to-day." FELICITATIONS AND PRESENTATIONS. 89 "Thank you, Mr. Lee. I am very little troubled by my old enemy now. But I must expect it again, sir-I must expect it again. I am an old man. Rheumatiz and other old folks' complaints will take me off altogether afore very long. And the day 'll come when you'll set in my seat, an old man like me, amusing yourself watching the young- sters, as I do to-day. May you, sir, when that time comes, look for'ard to your last change with gospel hope and faith! And you'll not mind a little rheumatiz, Mr. Lee, no more nor I do." "I am much obliged to you for your kind wishes, Mr. Hayes," Mr. Lee answered. "To know that I have such an interest 'in your thoughts, and I trust in your prayers, too, sir, gives me more gratification than I can express." As Mr. Lee and his family were among the first to arrive, so were they the very first to leave. All were pleased with the pastor's wife. Even Charlotte and Emma were attracted by some sweet, silent, winning influence, and acknowledged that Mrs. Poole was more' of a lady than they had expected to meet. But they were glad the donation-party was over with. Not so Nellie. She had enjoyed every part of it: the cake, the people, the romp with the village children among the trees, the kind words, of the pastor, thee pleasant looks of the pastor's wife, whom she pronounced "lovely sweet," and the meeting with George and Hetty Hughes, which ,lst was always a pleasure to her. "Nellie," asked her father, as the large family carriage entered Truro Park, " who was that pretty young woman you stuck to so closely this afternoon '" page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 FELICITATIONS AND PRESEN-TATIONS. Whly, pa," and Nellie's face beamed the bbrightest sun- shine, "that was Mrs. Iughes, my Sutiday-school teacher." "That is the Sunday-school teacher who has so captivated you?" "Yes , pa don' you thilk she is lovely?" "Yes," he answered, smiling; attractive, at least, bohll in appearance and manners. You go to see her very often, Nellie: did yon ever ask her to come and see you?" "No, pa, I never thouglht of it." "Perhaps," he said, "she would like to see lthe flowers at Truro. I observe she cultivates some beautiful specimens." "Oh, I knoww he would! How strange I never thouglht to invite her. And as to flowers, why, pa, she knows more about them than Mr. Silvey, a great deal. Her father, she says, was a florist." "Mrs. Lee," said Mr. Lee, addressingl Iris wife, "this Mr. Hughes and his wife seem to be very intelligent and pleasant persons. Suppose the next tilme you invite your vill,'ge friends to tea, you ask thelm, too." "Certainly, with pleasure," answered Mrs. Lee. In consequence of this convelrsaltion Hetty Iughtes soon explored in company with Nellie, the beauties of Tiuro: and when Mrs. Lee gave ler annual " tea-fight," aS hIrryT called it, Hetly and her husband were invited, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Poole, Dr. an d Mrs. Lowe, and their eldest daughters, and Mr. and Mrs. Slater. From tlnis day, it was understood in the village, that the inanates of the tannery belolnged to the first circle in Cedlarville society. X. "As in the altering of a lute, the strings are not new, but the tune is mended: so, in the new creature, the substance of the soul is not new, but is new tuned by grace."-.-TIoMAs WATSON. T was about two years after Nellie Lee and Jim Stryker became pupils in the Sunday-school, when, one day, Mr. Poole came to Truro, to consult Mr. Lee on a matter of some interest to'oie of them, at least; perhaps, remotely to both. Nellie was runniing races with Prince, up and down the graveled walks, in and out under the cedars and maples, and lindens, whose branches were so low that the tall gray-hound could hardly follow his mistress. At last she came bounding up the avenue of elms and sycamores toward the house, throwing full-blown roses behind her as a decoy to Prince, who stopt to examine each, while she ran ahead, and so she won the race, and reached the house first. It was a pretty sight, and Mr. Lee and Mr. Poole involun- tarily suspended their conversation to watch it. Mr. Poole left his seat and caught her in his arms as she came flying up the steps. He smoothed back her ringlets and would have kissed her brow, but she put up her, red lips and he much preferred their sweetness. "What have you in your apron, Nellie?" asked her father. page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 TI' EI T IISTLE BE C OMES "Nothing but roses and hawthorn, to make a collar for Prince." "Suppose you ask Mr. Silvey to cut some flowers for Mrs. Poole," said her father. "Yes, sir. And if Mr. Poole will take them, I will send her a bouquet from my own garden." Mr. Poole would be only too happy, and Nellie scampered away. The message to the gardener was delivered, and her own garden well-nigh stripped of its treasures. But Mr. Poole and her father were so engaged in conversation she could not interrupt them. She seated herself neal them on the steps, and Prince, sitting on the ground, laid his head in her lap, while she twined her roses and hawthorns into a wreath for his neck. She did not listen to the conversation between Mr. Poole alnd her father, but as a word came to her now and then, she did wonder what Jim Stryker's name could have to do with school, and college, and the ministry. At last Mr. Poole rose to go,. and as she stood beside him, ready to give ]lill the little bouquet from her own garden, she heard her father say, "If you feel satisfied, Mr. Poole, that the boy issincerely pious and has ordinary'talents, you may draw on me for the necessary funds. You know I appropriate a certain sum to benevolence; not as much as I ouglt to, I suppose. I do not profess to do all my duty in these mnatte:s. Yes, yes," laying his hand on Mr. Poole's arm, as the latter attempted to say something, "I know what you would say. I wishi I w rs a better man. But, bad as I am, my conscience would not rest satisfied without giving something to benevolent objects, and I am really obliged to you for helping me in the discharge of this duty." A GARDEN-PLANT. 93 Mr. Poole kissed Nellie again for her flowers. His one- horse, non-descript. vehicle, half-gig, half-buggy, and more than half-worn out, issued at his call from the shade of the trees where Cmesar had it in charge; and the good pastor jogged down the avenue, looking as contented and happy as the trees that smiled complacent blessings over his head. "Pa, what did Mr. Poole say about Jim Stryker?" asked Nellie, as soon as the pastor was fairly gone. "A ld what do you know about Jim Stryker?" asked her father. "Oh, I know him. Please tell me what Mr. Poole said of him." "You, know him," said her father with surprise. "When did you make his acquaintance?" 'I see him every Sunday in the Sunday-school; and I know he is the son of Mr. Stryker the shoemaker, at the end of the village down there--that is all I know about him- and now, pa, won't you please tell me what you and l\r. Poole could have to say about him?," "Well, Nellie, it seems that this young Stryker is pious and studious; he wants an education, and desires to be a minister: and'Mr. Poole called to see if I could help him in the prosecution of his purlpose." Nellie's face was full of lamazement. Her blue eyes grew larger and rounder, and her mouth contracted into its sober- est expression, as if she was trying to look into some very grave and astonishing and impenetrable subject. But the serious air melted away into a comic one. H]er eyes twinkled: her moutl relaxed: she put both hands up to her face--little, white, chubby hands-that did :not half cover the little face, spread out though they were to their largest dimensions; but; page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] " TIIE' THSTLE BECO ME S. the hands could not keep the mouth still, nor shut in the laughter; and Nellie laughed so heartily, and tried so hard not to laugh, that her :father had to laugh, too. "Nellie," he said, at length, taking' his seat upon the sette?, and lifting her up upon his knee, " what are you laughing at? I should think--you have grown to be such a good little girl, since you have been in the Sundlay-school-that this matter of young Stryker's would have pleased you in a different way," Nellie made several ineffectual attempts before she could spenak each time clasping hler hands to her mouth, as her way was, to smother the laughter. "Oh, pa, it seems so droll, so funny," and away she went again into another peal of merriment. Caesar appeared just then, and asked Mr. Lee for some di- rections in reference to the horses. They talked so long, that Mr. Lee's mind was wholly diverted from the subject of Jim Stryker and the mi nistry, and would not have returned to it, perhaps, but for Nellie. She had been thinking of it all the while, and had grown quite serious, and resumed the conversation now with becoming gravity. "Pa," she began, looking down, and playing with his watch-chain; "I have been thinking about what you told me, and it don't seem to me as if Jim Stryker ought to be a minister!" "You take an uncommon interest in James Stryker. What is he to you? or what do youn know about the pro- priety of his becoming a minister?" and Mr. Lee, who liked to dispense his charities with as little trouble to himself as possible, asking few questions and yielding readily to the suggestions of his wife;, or of Mr. Poole, was evidently an- GA A E N -?L A N T. 95 noyed by the doubt suggested in reference to the judicious- ness of this present benefaction. "WTell, pa," Nellie answered with great emphasis, "all: that I know is, that it seems to me, that Jim Stryker never will be fit to be a minister. /" "Why do you think so?" her father asked. "Oh, I know so; I am sure of it," she answered impetu.- ously. "But why are you so ' sure' Is he a bad boy, Nellie?" "'No, pa, I never heard that he was.. I should think he was ill-natured; but then I did n't know before that lhe was pious, and perhaps he only was solemn when I thought he was cross. But, pa, he. does n't look one bit like a minister, and I don't believe he ever can be one!" "My dear," said her father, reprovingly, "you have not given mne a single reason for your opinion yet." "Well, pa, I have n't got a reason. I o nly know lie is not fit for a minister, because he is n't; and that's all I know about it :" and Nellie flew off to catch Prince, who for some time had been looking wistfully at her from the gravel walk, waggling his tail and asking, as plainly as dog could ask, for another race. among the trees. Mr. Lee's countenance had lost the air of satisfaction it wore when Mr. Poole left him. He s6ught counsel of his wife, though well aware that she would fully endorse the opinion of the pastor, whatever that might be. She was sit- ting in her own little room, off the great parlor. "Mr. Poole has been here to ask aid for a young man in the village who wishes to study for the ministry," Mr. Lee remarked tohs wife. "Al! you promised it, I suppose ." * . , page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] 96 THE THSTLE BECOMES "I did. But since Mr. Poole left, Nellie has put me a little out of the notion of it." "Nellie has put you out of the notion! What can Nellie know, or care about such a matter 2" "Sure enough," answered Mr. Lee; "but she declares that the young man is not fit to be a minister." "Not fit? How does she know whether he is fit or not?" "Of course she gives no reason for her opinion. You never heard that child give a reason for any tling, Mrs. Lee. Yet her opinions, notions, prejudices, instincts, intuitions, or whatever you choose to call them, are so often right, that they may be in this instance. What if her childish percep- tions detect some natural incongruity between the office of the ministry and the peculiarities of this village youth-a sort of unfitness which only a child's nice and quick sen- sibilities could discover! I own to some doubt; Nellie's convictions leave me uncertain how to act." "I never knew you, Mr. Lee, attach so much importance to Nellie's opinions. For my part, in such a matter as this, I should be governed by Mr. Poole's judgment. What does he think of the young man l" "He thinks well of him, of course," Mr. Lee replied," or he would not have applied to me in his behalf. He says he is consistent as a church member; his desire to, enter the ministry is very strong; and his talents are fair; at least what he wants in quickness he makes up for by habits of close application to his studies. Mr. Poole thinks that in a better school than the village affords, and in new associ- ations, his faculties will brighten up, and he may prove to be more of a man than he now promises to make." His wife answered as if there could be no cause for hesita- A GARJDEN-PLANT. 97 tion; "I do not see how you can do better than yield to Mr. Poole's advice. Send the boy to school for a year or two, at least, and give him a fair trial." The race between iNellie and Prince wlas interrupted a second time, by the appearance on the gravel walk of her brother Harry, who was spending his summer vacation at home. "Oh, Harry!" cried Nellie, running up to him, "I have such news! What do you think? Jim Stryker is going to be a minister!" "Jim Stryker? What, that boy with red hair, little eyes and no eye-lashes, and face so freckled and burned that it looks like a very variegated piece of mahogany?" Harry affected to have somewhat forgotten his old village acquaint- anice after the immelnn sely ,ng absence of eighteen months, minus vacations. "Yes, yes," Nellie answered. "That boy who sits directly opposite to me in Sunday-school; and who ialways looks so cross if I chanlce to look up from my book. I' m sure I would n't look at hiim, if he did not sit where I could not help it. Mr. Poole has been here this afternoon, Harry, to talk to father about it, and father has promised to pay for his education, or somethng of that sort, I believe." I declare!"Iarry ejaculated. "That fellow is to be a minister, is he? and to teach father and mother and the rest of us, good manners? That is a joke! I should like to see him once dressed up in a white cravat 1and black coat-- they 'd set off his mottled face, would n't they? I guess it' will be hard work to find black kid gloves large'enough for his paws. And then his red hair, won't it look like fire, I * page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 TH'E THSTLE BECOMES A GARDEN-PLANT. when he preaches about Sinai? And I know from the cut of lis jib he will preach about nothing but the law and datmia- tion!" "Oh, Harry, please don't!"Nellie said, half crying. "I wish you had never gone to boarding-school." And Nellie ran away from him into the house, to return again the next minute, lest Harry should be offended, and to ask him to go with her to feed the rabbits. About the same time that Harry returned to his boarding- school, Jim Stryker left Cedarville to pursue his education in a distant town. He found a home in the house of a minister, where he took care of the horse, cow, and garden, and did chores between times, while he 'attended. regularly the in- structions of a large academy; and grew up into a tall, large- boned, thin and ungainly figure of a man. Nellie missed him at first from the Sunday-school. But she soon forgot him, and almost forgot that there ever had been such a boy as Jim Stryker, and his ugly dog, in the world. - .. (XL. I ttSith ctlueni ttnbr feaminrteim. ,XI. "A lily thou wast when I saw thee first, A lily-bud not opened quite, That hourly grew more pure and white, "By morlning, and noon-tide, and evening nursed: In all of nature thou hadst thy share' Thou wast waited on By the wind and sun; The rain. and the dew for thee took care; It seemed thou never couldst be more fair." JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. NELLIE LEE'S religious training under her Sunday-school teacher, advanced more successfilly than her secular education. This, saving the knowledge picked up by shreds and bits from George and Hetty Hughes, was at a stand still. -But Nellie was coming under a new regimen, for which she had been in a course of moral preparation. A change, in the uneventful current of her life, was brought about by a visit of brother lNorton to the old hornestead, some four years or more after Nellie had been under Hetty's tuition. ;S Very happy was Nellie to hear that brother Norton would spend the Christmas holidays at Truro. Since she did not expect to like the book he might bring, any better than its predecessors, she was, probably, more happy in the expecta- tion of seeing him, than of receiving his present. The day before Christmas, Mr. Norton Lee arrived. lHe did not merely kiss Nellie, and toss her up in the air, and page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 100 THE WILD-FLOWER then forget all about her, as Robert ,Lee would have done; but he kissed her and set her on his knee, and, while he talked with the others, he played with her bright ringlets, and kissed by turns her forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, and cheeks, till Nellie laughed merrily at the droll places where he chose to kiss her; and, once and awhile, Ihe had some- thing to say to her. That same afternoon, when the rest had disappeared from the dining-room, Mr. Norton Lee began to catechize his little sister Nellie, to find out the extent of her acquirements and much shocked lhe was, to discover their meagerness. "Nellie, what are you studying now?" he began. "Studying?" asked Nellie, lookintg up in his face with some surprise at so uninteresting a query. "Yes. What are you learning? What does Madame Duponceau teach you?" "Oh, not much. She is too busy with the others. But brother Nor'ton, you've not asked to see Prince yet; 1e 's scratching at the. door now ; lie wants his dinner." Nellie jumped down from her brother's knee and let the grayhound in. Mr. Norton waited patiently while Prince's dinner was, literally, discussed; for Nellie made him beg for every bit, anl required himn to beg with every possible art of dog-courtesy. She and Prince seemed to enjoy each other's society, as much as Prince did eating his dinner; and Mr. Norton felt that he was rather neglected and over- looked. At last, however, Prince was dismissed with the injunction, "not to ask for anotlh' rmorsel," arid Mr. Nortoni resumed his inquiries. "Tell me now, Nellie, what Madame Duponceau does teach you." UNDER EXAMNATCION. 101 "Why she teaches me to write and to spell, of course," Nellie answered. [iW "Is that all?" "That's enough, I think, Brother Norton." "Enough! Do you not wish to know something?" "Oh, I know enough. Mrs. Hughes teaches me a great deal." '"Mrs. Hughes? who is she? anld what does she teach you?" "Why, don't you know Mrs. Hughes? She is my Sun- day-school teacher." "Oh! she teaches you the Bible then?" "She teaches me that and some other things too." '"What else, pray?" "Why, how to sew, and how to read correctly, and how to plant garden seeds and trim bushes and train vines." Nellie repeated these accolnlpishments with an air of tri- umph, that said, " what more would you have me learn, pray?" Mr. Norton Lee smiled, and inquired if the Sunday-school teacher taught her all these things on Sundays. Nellie shook her curls at him for asking such a naughty question, and informed him that she visited Mrs. Hughes almost every day, and hardly ever without learning something. "What kind of books does she teach you to read?" Norton inquired. "Oh, any I like. At least any she has. They are all good books, she says, and she lets me help myself to them." "Well," he asked, "what books have you helped yourself to?" "Ever so many. Among others, there's 'Henry and his Bearer,' 'Aladdin, or the Wonderful Lamp,' 'Robinson Cru- page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] O2 T THE WILD-FLOWER see,' 'Jack the Giant Killer,' 'Dairyman's Daughter,' and a book called 'The Looking-glass,' and that I am reading now." "But, Nellie," asked Norton,. with increasing concern, "please tell me if you know any thing of history." "No." "Nor of grammar ?" "Nor of arithmetic ?" "Well, you study geography, at least ?" "No, I don't though." "Why, you poor little ignoramus. lIow old a're you, Nellie.?" "I can't say exactly. It must be almost ten; for I'll be ten next birthday, and that's just after New Year's." "Ten years old and kLnows nothing !" Mr. Nolrton Lee so- liloquized. "It is too bad.. What do they mean by ne- glecting her so!" :He put Nellie down from his knee, and left the room hastily, without saying another word to her. Nellie invited Prince up stairs to her 'play-room, and never suspected that she was the subject of conversation in her mother's sitting-room, and her father's library, that aftelr- noon. To his mother's sitting-room went Mr. Norton Lee, when he left Nellie so unceremoniously. "Mother," he began, the moment he entered, "what do you all mean by neglecting Nellie so ?", Mrs. Lee dropped her work and looked up in astonishment. "Yes, neglecting Nellie," lie continued, 'sshamefully ne- glecting her. You are all so full of yourselves, that vou for- UNDER EXAMNATION. 103 get the claims of this child on your attention, and are letting her grow up as she may. I noticed it when here a year ago; but I did not think she was so completely overlooked and uncared for as she is. Why, the commonest child in the village school knows more, I'll be bound, than she does. You ought to look into this matter, mother. You sit here by yourself, and let every one do as they please; but it is not right, mother; you ought to give Nellie some of your attention." "Why, Norton," Mrs. Lee looked very much troubled, "why, I had no idea--I thought-I am sure I did not know tlat Nellie was-Madame Duponceeau seems very faithful, and I never heard any complaints." "Mother, she knows nothing, and she is not learning any thing either. She told me just now that Madame Dupon- seau does 'not attempt to teach her any thing but writing and spelling." "What does Madame DuponLeau mean! I thought she was doing her duty to the child. Really, I never suspected any thing amiss, Nort6n. I am glad you told me. I will see Madame immediately, and charge her to give more at- tention to' Nellie." Mrs. Lee rose, with the bewildered look of one unused to exertion who determines to do something. Norton felt sorry that he had troubled her. She was not the one to manage such a matter. "My dear mother," le said, "do not speak to Madame. At least not yet. Let me consult with father first; and you must promise to second Our efforts in whlatever we agree upon." "Certainly, my son, in whatever is right," and Mrs. Lee page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 THE WILD-FLOWER with an air iof s1ome relief, seated herself a^lain and rtesumed her work ; at least sshe took it in her halnds, but the lneedle was quiet for a longl, lontg' While. She was thnkin-', and a tear-drop in her eye answered the thought. It was one of those seasons of pailnfil consciousne ss of uselessness whh helpless persons will haveo. But ar1e. they so useless Is there not power of solme sort in the silenlt, inactive gooldnlss, where otlers see that the ability o d tl t t he wiosl to do, is wanting lr. Norton Lee sounght his ltlther in the library. Still re- proaching hilmself with annoying his gentle mother, hle en- tered on the subject anew wlith rather less velteence. "Father," he began, I have been talkini' ith mother about Nellie. Her education is not advancing as it night . She knows positively nothin , fir a child oif her tage, anld does not seem to be in thl way of learnin'e any1'i thinlI'." Mr. Lee's countenance cloudetd : little, as if hle felt like one called to 1an account, ald did I,.ot flancy the intertfrence. Butl ie answered very quietly: Nellie is doing better titan you ilmarginle, Norton. You are mistalken iln savlin thlt ste knows nollthinI. 1-oo knowledgte, I contfess, slh lhas tnot!-t acquired. But she Ias learned nm1chlt that books ca not t:tfel; and in hlat knowl- edge which is the basis of practical wisdoml, slhe mitt put many who are older to tlte blush." "I do not understand you. sir?" "You will ll when you understand Nellie better," his father ansuwered. "In the mean tilme," lhe conitinuedl, " it would be well, perlaps, to begin to mrge on her studies. I have rather egileected the matter, partly through ilattention, and partly, I think, from a fear of spoiling one of the most natural char- INDE1IR E XAMNATION. , 105 acters I have ever known. However, I will dlargo Madame upon ecau to take her in hand immediately." "Do you think Madame Iutponieanu well qualified for her position," Norton asked. " It the proper person to be in- trusted with the care of Nellie, would she hve neglected her, as she evidently has done "s Mr. Lee acknowledged that there was ground for dissatis- faction both with her cgeneral qualifications and her remiss- hness in regtard to Nellie. Norton found him prepared to listen to his suggestions ; and the result of the long con- ference was a decision to remove the whole, family to thle city of New York, where the children might receive instruc-, tion in the higher branclhes of an English education from competent teachlers, while Madamil Duponteanlu should teach them French, and have the general oversight of their studies. This arrangement should continue till the next spring, when Charlotte and Emminia might dispense witih Madame's serv- ices, anld "a more suitable governess should be secured tir Mariai: and Nellie. This last, Mr. Norton Lee promised to make his own business. Madame Iuponceau who did not know: that the removal to New York was the precursor of her own dismissal from the family, and Charlotte and Emmna were delighted with the prospcct, of a winter in the city. The rest of the house- hold were full of regret at the desertion of Truro. Mrs. Lee loved the retirement of the country. Mr. Lee knew that there were no occupations in the city which could afford him the pleasure and relaxation of his counitry cares. Rupert shunned society, such society at least, as would crowd around his father's family in the city, and yet was unwilling to abide in solitary occupation of Truro. Hie resolved at last to spend page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 A WILD-FLOWER UNDER EXAMNATION. the winter in seeking congenial amusements in the South. Nellie, who was too happy at Triiro to be pleased with any change, was sorry to leave Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, and Mr. and Mrs. Poole, and sorrier still to know that she must ap- ply herself to study, no more to go as she pleased, without let or hinderance. She was to take Prince, with her; that was some comfort. But she and Prince would find no such liberty for their sports in city rooms and city streets, as the country afforded. Hetty Hughes cried with Nellie at this unexpected separa- tion. There was a little grave covered up under the snow, in that part of the church-yard where the old parsonage had stood, and since the summer day when little Georgie was laid there, Hetty had been often sorrowful. Nellie had been her best comforter, and she alnost felt as if she were about to lose another child. But they would write to each other. if, XII. anWtutits af tte ammie 6mus #1tm . "It is not timber, lead, and stone, An architect requires alone, To finish a great building; The palace were but half complete, Could llheby any chance forget The carving and the gilding." Cow rir. COW PE "WHAT in the world, Nellie, have you there?" asked Mr. Lee, as he observed Nellie lavishing her attentions on a little flower-pot she carried in her hands, when on their way to New York. "This is one of my English daisies," Nellie answered. "Why, pray, yhave you selected that of all your treasures, to carry With you? To remember Mrs. Hughes by?" he added, archly. "Oh, no, pa--not that--but then-" "Thel what? "I thought, perhaps, the flower would help me-" "Help you to, be good, I suppose,I as Mrs. Hughes would have you be , "Yes, pa, that's it. Every time I get angry I mean to look at the daisy, and it will remind me'of Cousin Hetty's fahee, and Mr. Iughes' solemn voice." "Cousin Iletty-who is she? Mrs. Hughes?" Nellie noddec. page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] T IE E SAME GENUS HOIO. 109 the fire-place, or reading the lalge Bible that lay on the little table to the, right of the mantel-piece, or completely abstracted in adding up long columns of figures, and setting down long columnls of items, at the mysterious secretary which stood ayainst the wall, opposite the sofa, or bustling in and out of tile door close by the secretary, that opened into a:- large pantry, where such order, neatnessj profusion of good things, and delectable fragrance of good things captivated the eye and nose, if but a glance was afforded inwards, or a stray breath floated outward, as tickled the palate, and reminded one of the condition of the appetite.- In this little room Nellie spent somne of the happiest hours she ever did spend in the Babel city of New York. She would bring' her books, and nestle in one corner of thel sofa, whi:le Prince stretched hilmnself over the remaining space, for an' hour at a time, oblivious to Madalne Duponleau, and all other causes of an- noyance or disquietude: or she would sit, sewing in hand, and listen to the landlady's stories, funny and sad ones, with morals appended, or a pleasant word of advice or encourage- ment put in parenthetically. The long winter evenings, when their own parlor was filled with company, or the rest of the family, except Madame Duponqeau and Maria, had tgone to parties, or operas, or somewhere else, Nellie spent in Mrs. Seymour's little room: and she and Perry Seymour would parch corn, make molasses-candy, eat apples for the sake of counting the seeds, or do some other absurd thing,i for theremwas nothing Mrs. Seymour would not let thellm do. Nellie had many pleasant walks with Perry Seymour. She never cared to go out alone in the great city, and she cared about as little to go with any one else, for no one, except Perry, would let her stop and look at whlat caught her eye, page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] "O VARIETIES OF or run, or skip when the fancy took her. But it made no difference to Perry how long she stopped, or how fast she ran. He was always interested in what amused her, and every thing that pleased the one .or the other was sure to fix both pair of eyes, and draw forth two sets of exclamations. People sometimes stared' to see two children, skipping along, hand in hand, in Broadway, like children, and not like pre- mature graduates at the school of deportment; but those who looked, except the very little apes of meni and wonmen, usually were shocked in 'no other way than with delight at the sight of two such brighlt, handsome faces, the one shak- in;g sunshine out of light curls, and smiling it out of blue eyes, and the other darting it out of hazel-gray eyes, or caetcling it among I his thick locks of brown 'hair. Perry Seymour had tanlother brother, older than himself, and very different fioom himself, whom we would not take the trouble to describe, were it not that he had full posses- sion of the rights to the little room, and. must, therefore, sometimes appear as one in the circle there, of which we choose to regard Nellie as the center. Albert Seymour, Esq., a young man of-more pretension than of brainis, was doted upon by his mother, who vainly lamented, while she weakly indulged his extravagant tastes and habits of good-for-noth- ingness. He was a graduate of Columbia College': and be- ing, withal, the' son of the late Captiin Seymour, U S.N., he could not think of condescending to the menial drudgery, of an ordinary clerkship .in mercantile business, though offers of this nature fi'om his mother's friends were abundant. A learned profession alone was adapted to the gentleness of his 'gentlemanhood. His name was duly entered in a law- yers office, and he was supposed to be, at the time when T I E S AM E E NU S O M O. I 1 Nellie first saw him, perfecting himself in the elementary branches of his gentleimanly profession. Tltis, doubtless, was an easy task for a man of his abilities; at least, however arduous his studies, he still found abundant leisure to culti- vate the polished manners and habits of an exquisite. Albert Seymour, Esq., was handsome and presentable; very serviceable, therefore, as a beau, to young ladies who had no fraternal escort to rely upon; and, as such, he was freely used. by Charlotte and Emma Lee. Nellie 'was thus brought in contact with him, up stairs in her father's parlor, and down stairs, in Mrs. Seymour's room, and found. more amuse- ment than she' was aware of, or than (if she had known it), was exactly amiable, in observing his foppish airs, and listeri- ing to his languishing sentiments. There was one other whose presence sometimes graced Mrs. Seymour's parlor. Miss Van Horne, Electa Van H0ome, was stewardess, butleress, chief cook, and housekeeper in general,'of Mrs. Sbymour's establishment.. Her grandfather and grandmother' had come from Holland as servants in the family of Mrs. Seymour's Ituguenot paternal ancestors; herr father had been head gardener to Mrs. Seymour's grand- father, at New Rochelle: and she, the youngest of fourteen- children, had alone remained attached to the family which her father and grandfather had faithfully served. She could claim near relationship as aunt, or cousin, to 'dozens of families who rejoiced in the purity of thteir Knickerbocker extraction; but she suffered them to remain in happy ignor- ance of the sanguinary purity which flowed in her own veils. Miss Van Horne was thin, tall aid muscular, with a yellow, leathern skin, betokening her of that peculiar Dutch stock that imperceptibly dries up with years, and never becomes { , . . page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] "2 VARIETIES OF completely and uselessly shriveled till the drying process has extended through a century of yearsl. What her age was, no one could tell. Mrs. Seymour could only say that for forty years she had looked as if she might be fifty. Miss Van Horne, though she ridiculed the'relations who had proceeded from the same servile stock' with herself, was, nevertheless, intensely proud of her Dutch extraction. She would descant for hours on Dutch customs, and old Dutch families. She could give the whole history of Manhattan Island from its earliest settlement. She was especially elo- quent on Dutch ,ministers and churches. Lamented the days of the Romaines and Schoonmachers: and often avowed her determination never to regard herself as duly married, unless the whole ceremony as approved and sanctioned by General Synod was read and performed. To her taste it was an in- decency of these degenerate days, to regard oie's self as married by a form that at its greatest extent, could not be stretched beyond ten minutes. Miss Van Horne's failings, like all her other characteristics, were peculiarly Dutch. They were two in number---penuriousness and work. She never spent a cent of her own, but from the dlirest necessity: and she never rested from work but for a similar cause; that is, when there was no work to be done. Her virtues were, staunch adherence to the doctrines of the Heidelberg Cate- chism, invariable regularity in her attendance oli church and religious ordinances, snd an unbounded love to Mrs. Seymour. That lady she loved as if she were her mother, sister, and all her relations combined in one. She loved Mrs. Seymour's children, too-especially Perry-but she loved them more foi Mrs. Seymour's sake, then their own. While her abilities as a housekeeper mioght command highl wlages elsewhere, she s TIlE SAME GENUS HOMO. 113 preferred to share Mrs. Seymour's fortunes, with no wages at all: gratifying her Dutch taste. for accumulation only by hoarding up' such small, sums as occasionally came to hancd, or were saved by rigid economy from the allowance wlichl Mrs. Seymour forced her to accept. Miss Van Horne, we have said, had two failings: perhaps some who knew her would have added a third. She seemed, it is true, to have a quick and pungent temper. But this, we assert, should be included in one of the above mentioned failings. To scold is the art of every real hard-worker. It should be regarded only as the song of the sailor, "Ieave--heRvc-ahoo " that helps the work along. That was the only use Miss Van Horne made of it. That it never disturbed the equanimity of her inner spirit, is apparent from the self-evidencing proof that she never grew old; for the virlgo wears out; ill-temper induces disease. But Miss Van Homne merely spoke in a loud, sharp voice to inspire activity in others, or accelerate her own movements: and five minutes after she had emitted the sounds which seemed like scolding, she could not have told what they were, or what occasioned them. t i i page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] XIII. 3 are r I CtlVe fot tte jxnan tarim. "I see his gray eyes twinkle yet; , At his own jest-gray eyes lit up With summer lightnings of a soul So full of summer'warmth, so glad, So healthy, sound; and clear and whole, His memory scarce can make me sad." ALFBED TENNYSON. IIERE was another who had the riglht of entree at all times into Mrs. Seymour's sanctum: Mr. Joshua Sickles, the very opposite in all respects of Albert Seymour, Esquire. The first time Nellie saw him, she was well-nigh frightened out of her senses. Sitting in the little room, she heard a, heavy tramp com- ing along the hall, tramp--tramp-tramp, quick and loud, up to the very door, then an impetuous knock, the bursting open of the door before Mrs. Seymour could say " come in," and in rushed a strange-looking man, with great green gog- gles over his. eyes. He was of middling stature, rather stout; with large features and especially large mouth; and a remarkably fresh, clear, well colored complexion. His clothes were rather coarse, and hung about him as if they had half a mind to fall off; and his boots were splashed with mud. Nellie shrunk into the furthest corner of the sofa; and when the man with the big goggles came directly toward I . # r SPECIMEN FOR THE HUMAN HERBARIUM. 115 her, with his heavy tramp, and seemed about actually either to walk over her, sofa and all, or else to sit down upon her, she could not help givingo a little scream. "Bless me!" exclaimed the man, pulling off his goggles, "I had liked to have killed the child." So shaggy were the eyebrows that overshadowed the eyes from which the goggles were taken, that Nellie did not no- tice then, what she did afterward a thousand times, how mild, merry and handsome those large gray eyes were. "Mr. Sickles," said Mrs. Seymour, petulantly, "why do' you persevere in wearing those glasses? tI wonder you can see any thing!"' My dear madam," rejoined Mr. Sickles, "I wear them for a variety of reasons. First of all, it is a long walk from my store-here, and the dazzling snow would put my eyes out--" "Why don't you ride then?" interposed the lady. "Om- nibuses are plenty. You 'd be sooner home, and might shut your eyes if you pleased." My dear madam, sixpences do not grow on trees. You may find your business profitable enough to throw yours away; but I do not mine."' "But," Mrs. Seymour persevered, "there is :no sun to-day and the snow would hurt no one's eyes. And you. know you wear those goggles when there is no snow at all." "I have good reasons, madam. They shut out many dis- agreeable anid inconyenient sights, and save me a deal of money. No. matter what display in the shop windows, I am not tempted to buy; no matter what appeals fronm the sidewalk, I am not moved to pity, for I can not see. If a lame mail comes bowing up to me, or a blind woman sits page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] "6 A RARE SPECIMEN on the door-steps, or the dirty street-sweepers put out their hands for a penny, I stumble over them all, unconscious of their existence. My dear madam, you know my weakness- I can not resist--I should give every thingL away were it lno for my goggles-" "What a mean man," thought Nellie. "Too mean to ride in an omnibus, or give a penny to the poor!" But Mr. Sickles continued, "My dear madam, you know you extorted from me a promise-" "I did no such thing, Mr. Sickles," interrupted Mrs. Sey- mour. "Now do npt deny it. I say you did, Mrs. Seymour. You extorted from me a promise to give something to that worth- less-as I believe her to be-worthless woman, the widow you told me about-" "I did not tell you about her," Mrs. Seymour interrupted again, with increasing warmth. "You yourself told me of her." "That's nothing to the purpose. It was you whlo went to see her, and told me all about'her: a most piteous story you managed to make of it, too. And here is what you made me promise to give her." He handed Mrs. Seymour a bank-bill; anid -lvhe she at- tempted to speak, probably to expostulate with his state- ment of facts, he prevented her by saying, "And now, Mrs. Seymour, I am sorry to tell you that I must look out for another boarding,-house. Besides that your price is high, enormously high, you impose upon me so often with these expensive cases of cha'ity, that I can not stand it, ma'am, I can not afford it," and Mr. Sickles precipi- FOR THE HiUMAN IIER]BARIUM. 11' tatted himself from the room in much the same3 manner in which he lhad bntered it; and Nellie heard him trtamping up, up, and up the long flights of stairs. Nellie did not know what to think of him. He appeared to her to be the meanest man in the world, and so queer that he was fiightful. Mrs. 'Seymour, however, did not seem to agree with her, for she was smiling to herself, and looked as if sle liked him'very much. But Mrs. Seymour was busy with her accounts just then, and Nellie did not like to. inter- rupt her to ask who the queer man was. At the dinner-table that evening, Nellie looked for Mr. Sickles. There he was, at the very furthest end from where she sat. She observed that he was an object of polite atten- tion to all around him; and that he was the first one to rise and le1ave the table. The next afternoon, and about the same time as on the day before, Nellie heard Mr. Sickles' unmistakable tramp hurrying through the long hall. She would have liked to escape, but the pantry door was closed, and before she could think what to do, the loud knock came, followed by the in- stant irruption of Mr. Sickles into the little room. The first thing he did this day was to take off his goggles. Then he lookled straioht into the corner of the sofa, where he had well- nigh crushed Nellie the day before. But there 'was no one there; and he turned, witfh a disappointed sort of look, to reat himself oln the sofa, when he discovered Nellic, nestling as close as she could to Mrs. -Seymour. "Bless me! You are there are you?"Mr. Sickles ex- claimed. "Afraid of me, too.! VVTeIl, I don't wonder. I have anl antipathy to children. They are expensive. What's your namee?" page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] "8 A RARE SPECIMEN "Nellie, sir." "Well, Nellie., here is a book Mrs. Seymour insisted upon my buying for you, because I frightened you so, yesterday.;" "I insisted?" exclaimed Mrs. Seymour. But Mr. Sickles paid no attention to her protest. "Here," he said, addressing Nellie; "why do you not. come and take it?" "I do' not wish it, sir," said Nellie, putting her hands be- hind her, and looking very much offinded. "Do notf wish it? But you have not seen it." Mr. Sickles tore off the wrapper, and'displayed the very beautiful bind- ing. "There, now won't you have it?" Nellie retreated further from him, shaking her head. "Not handsome enough l" ejaculated Mr. Sickles, talking to himself. "M:oney thrown away! Must buy another, I suppose," and Mr. Sickles threw the book down, and tramped out of the room. "Why on earth, Nellie, did you not take the book?" ex- claimed Mrs. Seymour, the moment the door was shut. "That man will never rest till he lhas bought you a whole library!"Mrs. Seymour forgot that Nellie did not know "that man," as well as she did. "Why did you," answered Nellie, with tears starting in her eyes, "tell him nto buy me a book:T" "I tell him? I told him no such thing," and Mrs. Sey- mour laughed. "He came in here last evening, and began at once asking questions about you, and seemed to be inter- ested, in what I told him. 'He said hle supposed he had frightened you to death; that you would never forgive him till he gave you something: children never would. That he never could live in peace in the same house with you, unless FOR THE HUMAN HERBARIUM. 119 he did buy your love; for all children were venial and spite- ful; and he knew that you would pull his hair, or pinch him the first chance you got. And when I told him you never could be guilty of such conduct, he would not listen to me, but kept insisting upon my telling him what kind of a present would please you most. And so I said, at last, that you would like a book, I guessed, better than anly thing; and that's all that I had to do with it." "Did he say all that of me? What an impudent man he is! He is perfectly- hateful!" dried Nellie, stamping her foot. Mrs. Seymour could not help laughing. Yet she looked perplexed and unhappy. "Oh, Nellie, Nellie," she said, "don't say so. It's only his way.. He has taken a great fancy to you, and this is his way of showing it. He never does things like other people. lie is the kindest-hearted man in the world, and he will feel hurt if you do not take his book. He will think, or pretend to, that it is because the book is not expensive enough. He will be sure to buy you another, and he 'll keep on buying thern till you agree to be friends. I don't know what lhe won't do. Perhaps he will bring you a Bible, bound in vel- vet and gold, or something of that kind. And he will keep blaming me for the expense all the time, and say that I brought it on him. Oh, Nellie, you must take the book. Please take it for my sake, if not for his!" " What a queer, disagreeable man he must be," said Nellie. "I am sure I don't wish his books. And you tell him to- night, Mrs. Seymour, that if lie brings a cart-load of books, even if they are Bibles, bound in velvet and gold, I will not take one of them. So he may as well give it up." Mrs. Seymour was in despair. page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 120 A RARE SPECIM:EN "Give what up?" asked Perry Seymour, who entered just as Nellie pronounced the last emphatical words. The matter was soon explained to lim. tie laughed till .he cried. The absurdity of Uncle Joshua's conduct, as lie called him--tle simplicity of his mother in her excited anxiety to escape Mr. Sickles' accusations against herselft should Nellie refuse the book-and Nellie's angry dignity and indignant obstinacy, were all ludicrous enough. After much talling, insisting on Mrs. Seymour's part, and refusing on Nellie's, both agreedl to leave the matter to Per- ry's decision. Perry at once assumed a grave and judge-like air; and proceeded to give an opinion--like many otheb's pro- nounced from the ermine-neither one way or the other. He proposed in fact a compromise. -Ie said the shortest way to settle the matter would be for Nellie to accept the book. But since sle would not do tlhat, he thought the best plan was for Nellie to go with him to ]Mr. Sickles' room, and thank him for his kind intentions, but tell him that she could not think of accepting so handsome a present from a stranger. To this Nellie demurre]. She wished to have nothing to do with the man; and it was nothing to her she said, if he was offended. But Perry told her so many things about Mr. Sickles that showed the kindness of his heart, and was so urgent in his entreaties, that at last she consented. Book in hand, they started for Mr. Sickles' room. It was a longer journey than Nellie had anticipated. They went up one pair of stairs, and then another, and another still. "Why, Perry, you are not going any further up ." Nellie asked. "Yes, I am. Mr. Sickles' rooms ae, in the attic. Oh, FOR THE H UMAN HEI3R B AR I U A. 121 Nellie, he is such a funny man. lie insists upon it that he can not afford to hire any of t he rooms in the lower stories, and yet, mother says, he manages in one way and another to pay as much for these roomls, as if he had the best in the house. She hardly dares do any thing for his comfort, for he is sure to remember it, and pay for it, when he conies to settle his bill and' all the time he accuses mother of doing it on purpose to extort money from him. He hardly ever pays a bill without giving warning of his intention to find another boarding-house. Oh, Nellie, I have to laugh so. Mother never understaqds lhitm. She is so straight-forward and honest; she never gets used to him: but always thinks he is in ear'nest. She sometimes laughs at herself for her own simplicity. If he were to go down stairs now, and say that she made him buy that book, she would be just as anxious to deny and, disprove it, as if she had never known him. But here we arc." Such a pleasant voice answered "Come in," when Perry knocked, that Nellie was just going to tell Perry that he had made a mistake, for that was not Mr. Sickles' voice; but Perry threw open the door before she could sp1eak, and there was Mr. Sickles himself, seated in ,a com- ortable arm-chair, at the side of a bright Liverpool coal fire. ,Mr. Sickles was a very different man in his own apartments from what he was out of them:. and it was with an air of so much politeness that he placed chairs for his young visitors, and bid them welcome, that Nellie almost believed there were two Mr. Sickles. He must have seen the book, but he made no allusion to it. He began in an off-hand way to talk and joke with Perry about his school and play-mates, and left Nellie undisturbed 6 page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 122 A RARE SPECIM:EN to make her observations apd criticisms on him and his sur- roundings. The room, notwithstanding the low ceiling and dwarfish windows, was large in size and cheerful in appearance. Through an open door, Nellie saw that the bedroom adjoin- ing was of the same size, and in that, too, a Liverpool' coal fire was burning in the grate. Both rooms were furnished, not only neatly and comfortably, but tastefully and hand- somely. Close by the rose-wood book-case, stood what looked like a guitar-case: Nellie was sure it was one, for on the opposite side of the room there was a music rack, full of music, besides a pile of music books on the floor beside it. But the most astonishing discovery was--" clear up there in the attic"--a conservatory. Mrs. Seymour's house. stood on the corner of two streets, and Mr. Sickles' room was a corner room, and the front of the 'room faced the south: the third 'story of the house projected beyond the fourth, a space of some three feet, or, measuring to the furthest extent of the heavy stone cornice, almost five feet: and on this projection Mr. Sickles had built his aerial green-house, dinminutive, to be sure, when compared with less aspiring conservatories, but displaying a 0more 'exquisite collection of flowers than they can always boast: flowers, Nellie was surprised to observe, of the most delicate and fragile species. Roses that a breath might blow away, or a dew-drop stain; lilies "white as dreams in Eden ;" passion-flowers trembling from their shadowy vines; one feathery acacia, waving its fairest yellow bloom over an orange-tree, the delicate tracery of its -pale green leaves falling upon the glossy verd u.re and golden fruit. of the orange like a fairy net-work; and a maurandia vine trailed over both so lightly, that not, a leaf seemed depressed r l FOR THE H:UMAN HERBARIUIM. 123 by its weight, and mingled its purple bells in pretty contrast with their white and yellow blossoms. Two canaries, one on either side of the door, were the sweetest singers, Nellie thought, she had ever heard. They did not vie with each other in makingr the greatest possible noise, nor did their m1usic ring till every nerve of hearing seemed to vibrate, and the listener could not hear himself either talk or think-but they warbled outthe gentlest and softest music possible. "You like flowers.?" said Mr. Sickles to herl, abruptly. "Yes, sir," she answered, with a startled voice, for just when h1e spoke, she was stretching her neck to see a flower that peeped round, the corner, and she felt that she might have been too curiously inspecting what did not belong to her. "Come and look at mine," said Mr. Sickles. "Do you know what this is-and this--and this?" he asked, in rapid succession, pointing to one after another. She knew the names of all, though there were two or three varieties she had never seen before. "Do you like flowers, Mr. Sickles 2" asked Nellie, express.- ing by the emphasis of the pronoun, more astonishment at the possibility of his liking them, than she was aware of. "Yes, I like them," he answered. Only, they are so ex- pensive: just like little girls-always costing money." Nellie began to think there were not two Mr. Sickles after all. But when fie picked her an exquisite bouquet,. and handed it to her with a gentle grace as :rare as the flowers, the old opinion came back that there were two Mr. Sickles. Flowers! how she loved them! how delightful once more to breathe their fragrant beauty! She did not know how much she had missed the Truro green-house; and Nellie thanked Mr. Sickles in a glow of excitement, and was page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 A nRARE SPECIMEN. bounding out of the roomn, when Perry whispered to her that she had forgotten the book. Nellie paused, irresolute. The book lay upon the chair where she had left it. Mr. Sickles stood close by her, look- ing so pleased ani happy. She hesitated but a moment ; she ran 'back for the book, camne up to Mr. Sickles again, and told him that she was very much oblig'ed to him for the book, and hoped he would pardon her for refusing it at first, for she did not know him then as she did now, and she did not care for presents unless she liked the giver. Perry listened in astonishment. Mr. Sickles was evidently pleased, for the twinkle in his eye said so: yet he began fumbling with his bhands in the large square pockets of his big coat, very much as if he suspected soelnobody of an inten- tion to pick those capacious receptacles.' But Nellie ran away before he spoke: and from thalt day, Mr. Joshlua Sickles and Nellie Lee were fast friends. XIV. "priidg fi b"cititd ,loti e tUclI tit I Wto tI) . "The present method of servile imfitation throws the individual into the crowd of a numerous class-al1 unllisti nished paitiele in the heap ; as you lave often seen a company of brother-oyster shells lying in the streets, but, I dare say, never thought of remarlking the important differences amongl them. . . They are like the golden ornaments of the Israelites, which passed by a nelting process from a multitude of diminutives into one ill ustrious Calf."-JoIIN FOSTEZR. ALBERT Seymour, Esq., was an object of unqualified aversion to Mr. Joshua Sickles. Not seldom was this a cause of lamentation with Mrs. Seymour. "She did wish Mr. Sickles understood poor Albert. He was so hard upon him., tie gave him no credit for the good qualities he pos- sessed, whatever his faults might be." "Mother," said Mister Albert, one day, "I shall have to trouble you for five dollars, to purchase a concert ticklet to- night. A famous singer was to appear. The concert was for a charitable object: and every body was to be there. "Albert," his mother replied, "I wish you would take a less expensive seat. I have promised Perry that he shall hear this singer, and to-night will be the last opportunity. But I can not afford two five dollar tickets; neither can I let him go alone. If you would buy two promenade tickets for a dollar each, you would share the pleasure with your page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] 126 A. SPRIG OF GENTILITY brother and save money at that-which I can very ill spare." "What would the world say to see me, Albert Seymour, stalking about almong the Tom, Dick, and Iarries? Dear mother, it is impossible. Besides, I have made a positive engagement and can not help it now." "Poor Perry, he will bel greatly disappointed," his mother said, sadly. Pooh, pooh!. H1e can go another time," Mr. Albert re- sponded. "Perhaps, I'll take him to hear the Ethiopian minstrels." "No, you will not," Mrs. Seymour said, decidedly. "If your elegance can not condescend to mingle with gentle- men, because they are not in the most fashionable circles, you shall not expose Perry to the contamination and vul- garity of an Ethiopian concert." This was a very severe speech for mild Mrs. Seymour. Albert was quite overcome by it and sank down upon the sofa with a graceful air of martyr-like resignation. "Dear mother,' he said, apologetically, "I mentioned the Ethiopians because I thought they would interest Perry; and one is in no danger of being snobbed as a- plebeian at such a place. He is only thought a fast young man, who likes to see -and know a little of all that is going on. But on such a night as this, at a full dress concert, to take anly other than a five dollar seat would be decidedly outree. Indeed I could not think of it. It might cause mliy expul- sion from the pale of society. Mrs. Ephraim Jones and all her set would positively cut me, if they did not see me, at least once in the evening, sitting near or conversing with the Jays, or Lees, or murrays. And then the Lalors! horrors! MORE SHOWY THAN WORTHY. 127 What if they should give me the cold shoulder and crush the hopes of winning a fortune as well as a heart, dear mother." "Albert," answered his mother, with alarm, "you surely could not love either of those trifling girls; and you would not, I hope, marry merely for the sake of fortune." "I don't know, mother dear," he answered, with a shrug of the shoulders. "I tink I could love enough where there was money enough. And then you should give up this detestable boarding-house. Bah! it is shocking to think that you should ever have been reduced to so low an em- ployment." To this effusion his mother made no reply. She only looked grave and sad. Fearing that she might grow obliv- ious to the subject of his present wants, Master Albert ven- tured after awhile to renew his application. "Mother dear, I am very sorry I can not take Perry to- night. But that is out of the question. And I must have five dollars for my own ticket; for, I think I told you, I am under an engagement to attend this concert, which I could not honorably break." Mrs. Seymour searched her purse and portemonnaie, land replaced both in her pocket, remarking thatz she had nothing less than a twenty dollar bill; perhaps Mr. Sickles could chang'e it for her, when he came in. "Mr. Sickles? mother; won't you ask some one else to change it for you," Albert urged. Mrs. Seymour pre- sumed lhe feared some scathing remark froml Mr. Sickles, and feeling less tender-hearted than usual, answered him coldly, that "there was no one else she cared to trouble about it.". page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 128 A SPRIG OF GENTILITY "Please do not tell hmll what you want it-for, mother," Albert said. "No, my son," she answered, ' I should be aslhamed to tell one so generous, what a selfish son I hfave." "Oh, mother," he answered, deprecatingly, "you do not understand: what the customs of'society demand. I would do any thing for .Perry's gratification. But then, the world is inexorable. Oh, dear!" and reclining at full length on the sofa he covered his face with his worked and scented handkerchief, to hide the tender emotions which were agitating his heart, or, the want of them. Soon Perry came in, and going directly to'his mother, asked, in a whisper, if she had spoken to Albert about the concert. "He says he can not possibly take you," was the only and audible reply. The white cambric handkerchief did not move in its finest fold, and as it was of the most gossamer material, the infer- ence was that Alberl; Seymour was so sound asleep that lie had ceased to breathe. As for Perry, he walked directly to the window and stood there for a long time without turn- ing round once. He could not have been enamored of the prospect, for the window looked down upon a very small and bare brick-paved court. Perry did not move till Mr. Sickles' tramp was heard in the hall. The cambric handkerchief moved too, now; one little startled, fluttering motion, and then it lay'quiet again. One. tiny foot, encased in French-calf, of most feminine make, moved too, from the sofa to the floor, but there it staid; either the luxurious repose was too attractive, or escape was judged :impossible. Mr. Sickles entered the MORE SHOWY TIAN WORT IY. 129 room with his green goggles on. The little French-booted foot, lay just in his path, and Mr. Sickles' heavy, country- made boot, came down- upon it with such precision as to start the doubt whether it were purely accidental. "Bless me!" exclaimed Mr. Sickles, pulling off his goggles, "did I step on any thing?" The start and the exclamation were so ludicrous that Perry, who had seen the whole proceeding and who had a little spite perhaps to gratify, burst into an uproarious fit of laughter, such as only a boy can raise. This was too much for Albert, who was smarting .with the pain and the sus- picion of intentional insult, and shaking a hand-so little that it might provoke the same question as the foot, whether "it was any thing?"-at Perry, he limped out of the room. "O, ho! Perry," cried Mr. Sickles, "you are very happy to-night. That concert has put you in fine spirits." Perry was grave in a minute; and the sudden change from merriment to sobriety could not pass unremarked. "What's the matter now what's the matter now?2"Mr. Sickles exclaimed, plunging his hands into his large pockets, which he habitually associated with every cause for sorrow, "dear, dear, I suppose it's because that little Nellie, your in- separable friend, is not going! ,Well, it's very expensive, but she must go too, I suppose," and Mr. Sickles produced his pocket-book. Perry lanughed again now, ",Oh, no, Mr. Sickles," he said, "I should like to have Nellie, go with me, if I were going; but I am not going myself. Albert says he won't take if 11e.- "He must have changed his mind soon," said Mr. Sickles; "it was not two hours ago, that he borrowed ten dollars of ;,: - . 'E '. page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] 130 A SPRIG OF GENTILITY 'me, to buy tickets, as I understood him, for his mother, Perry, and himself." "Are you sure he said so?" inquired Mrs. Seymour, who was listening with painful interest. "Well, no," was the answer, "now that I think of it again, I am sure that he did not say so. He said he wished wlhile down town to buy tickets for the concert and had neglected to bring :money sufficient. And I myself, said, ' Tickets for your mother, Perry, and yourself, I suppose;' and as he did not say 'No,' I supposed that he meant 'Yes. So you see, madam, it was all my stupid inference. I was misled by my lnowledge of his habitual consideration for the happiness of others." Mrs. Seymour bit her lip. "CCan you give me two five dollar bills for this, Mr. Sickles," she asked, holding out a bill to him. Mr. Sickles gave her the bills and examined the one she handed him. "Stop, how is this?" he asked; "you have given me a twenty." "Ten dollars I owe you, or Albert does, which is the same thing," she answered, replacing her pocket-book. "The same thing . Madam, I tell you it is a very differ- ent thing. I will thank you to give me back my bills, or take this too," extending a ten toward her. "I must insist, Mr. Sickles on your keeping it ;" and Mrs. Seymour spoke so resolutely, that Mr. Sickles had to yield. If Mr. Sickles ordinarily rushed out of the room, now he flew out, like-except for the noise-a dart, down the hall and out of the front d(oor, making the whole house shake as he slammed after him the massiveportal. M0 RE! SO 1 O WY THAN WO THY. 131 Soon after Albert sauntered again into the room. It was growing dark and he did not observe that tears had been coursing down his mother's cheeks. "Mother," he said, with a languid effort at a joke, "did you get lthat little V for me?" "Where, sir," she asked, "are the ten dollars you bor- rowed of Mr. Sickles to 'purchase tickets"-there was irony in her voice-" for your mother, your brother, and yourself?" Albert threw himself on the sofa with an air of exhaust- ion. "Now, my dear mother, it is too bad that you should have discovered that little incident. It is my confounded luck. The fact is just this, dear mother, I made a bet of two concert tickets with the pretty Lalor girls (Blanche you know is quite fond of me), and I lost them, mother dear; and not having the money to pay for them, and not liking to ask you for it all, I did the best I could-borrowed ten of Mr. Sickles and expect you, dear mother, to give me the. other five. And now you see what a fix I am in; for their tickets are bougllt and sent to them, and of course they expect my escort. Now, mother., please give me that V. We 've talked about it more than it is worth," and Albert concluded with a yawn, as if it were an intolerably prosy and trifling matter. "I will give it, Albert," his mother said, "on one single *condition, and that is, that you never again, so long as you and I both live, ask Mr. Sickles to lend you money." The promise was as lightly given as it was lightly kept, and the exquisite young man lounged out of the room, with the thankless air of one who considered a matter of fifteen or twenty dollats mere moonshine. The storm indeed had blown over more speedily than he expected. His mother 'I page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 132 A SPRIC OF GENTILITY too felt relieved; for the affair as now expl:ained, seemed to her less serious, because less mlysterious. Nellie, Mrs. Seymour and Perry were all in the little room waiting for the summons to dinner, when Mr. Sickles once more invaded that apartment. "There seems to be no end to the way in which money is, wasted," he began, in his abrupt fashion. "'H-ere, unfortu- nately, I put the idea of going to the concert in Perry's head, and of having Nellie with him; and now neither of themi would ever forgive me, if they did not go. Of all dreadful things, the spite of children is most venomous. I'd rather live with wild Indians, than in the same house with two children, whose love you can not or do not buy. So I have had to get tickets for them ; andQ as I suppose, Mrs. Seymnour, you would not trust them alone with me, for I might take summary vengeance Dy losing them altogether, and as I do not wish to be pestered with the entire care of them, I shall be obliged to you, madam, if you, as a mere act of clarity to them and me, will accompany us." Going to the concert! Oh what joy to Nellie! ITer father, mother, and sisters were going, and brother Robert and sister Theresa; but none of them had so much -s thought of taking her. But she was to. go, with Mrs. Sey- mour and Perry, and funny Mr. Sickles: what could be pleasanter? 'Nor was this the last concert that Nellie attended with Perry and Mr. Siclles that winter. And though Mr. Sickles always had some dioll excuse for taking them and pretended to be forced into it and greatly bored by it, yet Nellie observed that his interest in their pleasure was only less than his keen en- joyment of the music when good, or annoyance when not good. V. bjlairt nan- a f13 ijdtini Ziat. "Nor stranger seemed that hearts So gentle, so cmployed, should close in love, Than when two dew-drops on the petal shake To the same sweet air and tremble deeper down, And slip at once all fiagrant into one." ALFRED TENNYSON. mHE win ter wore away,. Late in the spring, Nellie came - back to Truro, happy and bright as the birds that had migrat3d earlier from the sunny south. The meeting be- tlveen her and Mrs. Hughes was joyous; and if the flowers, trees, birds, and very breezes were not glad to see her again, Nellie thoughtt tlhey were, for they fairly danced in the happyI light that shone out her welcome to them; Nellie did not leave all troubles behind her; for the new governess came with her. Miss Brown was a governess; a thoroughly educated, practical, stereotyped English one-one that extended her surveillance over the whole conduct of her pupil, and never permitted her to do any thing her own way, unless that was the right .and most right way. But Nellie had Mrs. Hughes now to advise with, and in spite of Miss Brown and her fixy notions, was happier than she had been in the city. It was well for her that Mrs. Hughes was anl English woman. When Miss Brown first heard of Nellie's intimtacy with the tanner's wife, Miss Brown's face assumed page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 134: BR I T1 r SUMMER-TIME, a very shocked, decided, and tlreatening aspect. But one visit to the tannery and its flower garden, and one talk, of old England, and its ivy, pinks and daisies, and its church, with pretty, cheerful, clever Mrs. Hughes, dissipated, or cap- tivated Miss Brown's prejudices, and Nellie was continued in the unforbidden, unrestrained freedom of visiting the Sunday- school teacher. On Nellie's account, Mrs. Iughes cultivated and propiti- ated Miss Brown's good opinion, found in her an intelligent, agreeable, and pious friend, and if Miss Brown never wholly laid aside a patronizing air toward the tanner's wife, the lat- ter 'did not seem aware of it. She studied Miss Brown's good qualities, and- while she smiled at the infirmities and professional peculiarities of the governess, she admired the sterling sense, high cultivation, and conscier!tious fidelity of the Christian woman; and taught Nellie to appreciate these and bear with those. The pleasantest time in all the summer was August and part of September. Then Miss Brown went away to visit her friends, and HeryIc came home, and Perry Seymour came with him, to spend his vacation at Truro. Although Perry came to see Henry, he never forgot Nellie. He insist- ed upon her being a party in all their pleasures, and as Miss Brown was not there to forbid, and no one assumed Miss Brown's authority, Nellie accompanied the boys in their furthest and wildest excursions, over hills, up rocks, through woods and marshes, ,guning, fishing, and nut-hunting, invig- orating, by this means, her own health, both of body and mind, and strengthening the ties which bound her already to at least one of the parties. ,As for Harry, the brother whom she loved so dearly, boarding-school had spoiled him. AND A C'HRISTMAS TALE. 135 He seemed to think it unboyish--we ask his pardon, "un- manly," he would have called it-to be forever tied to a girl. He blarely tolerated Nellie's company, and regarded ;Perry as but a girlish city-boy for wanting her. But Miss Brown came back, and Harry and Perry re- turned to their schools, and before the luscious month of Oc- tober was well passed its ripeness, the whole family migrated once more from Truro to New York. That winter, Charlotte and Enmma, fully emancipated from the school-room, entered upon the career of young ladyship. Nellie was more than-ever out of the thoughts of the family. The father and the mother were devoted to the 'two elder daughters, and the daulgterrs were devoted to the gayeties of a city life. But she was kept hard at work by in- dtefatigable Miss Brown, and enjoyed with the more zest, be- cause with less frequency, her visits to Mrs. Seymour's parlor ! and Mr. Sickles attic retirement--Attic it was, in the classical as well as. the edifical sense. Albert Seymour, Esq., was still unfetterecd with the bonds of matrimony. Miss Blanche ILalor had deceived his hopes. When he had persuaded himself to make her the decisive offer, he found, to his chagrin, that he could not persuade her to accept of it. His melancholy was profound; he even entertained the suicidal purpose of burying his personal charms in the assiduities of the legal profession. For a whole week lie kept office hours, and smoked his cigar over Black- stone instead of the last novel. He grew pale and'thin (owing possibly to the stint of claret during this period or exile from the scenes of fashionable gluttony), and his fond mother really believed that he was pining away of a broken heart, and needed the trip to Saratoga, which, he intimated page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 136 BR I GHT SUM[MElI-TIME, might have a salutary effect. To Saratogal h went; at a time, too, when the ]ees happened to be there ; and, dazzled by Charlotte Lee's beauty, -or fortune, or his own intense vanity or venality, like a moth that can iot be cured of flut- tering around the fatal lamp, lie yielded hiinself once more to the fascinating dream of a splendid alliance. The fashionable exquisite, if rich, stirs our satire, but it poor, moves also our pity. Dependent for position on the favor or caprice of the fair sex, or, at least, on the value of his services to them as a convenient escort and obliging as- sistant, he becomes, in the ladies' vocabulary, "that dear, good-natured creature who can be used, or neglected, smiled upon, or laughed at, at pleasure. In order to ensure his own permanency in the gay world, and to provide for the indulgence of his expensive tastes and hlabits, he be- comes a fortune-hunter in the way of matrimony, and as the objects of his attentions know the cupidity of his motives, they esteem themselves at liberty to trifle with his hopes, and make him ridiculous and contemptible. Yet the poor victim, blinded by vanity, or impelled by necessity, perse- veres till he becomes a seedy bachelor past presentation, falls into the net of a parvenu, or is swept away by dissipated habits to the lowest -degadation. Such was the course on which Albert Seymour, Esq., had embarked. He had met his first rejection; he was courting a second; anid what the end should be is not worthl the anticipation. Christnmas Evening. Miss Van Horne, Nellie and Perry, had the little room all to themselves. Nellie had begged off from an invitation to spend the day with the rest of the fam- ily at the Jays', where she knew slhe would have little enter- AND A CHRIS'TMAAS TALE. 137 tainment beyond a romp with brother Robert's little boy, and a search for usemet fo e hundreth time, through a portfolio of poor water-colored and w orn out engravings, while the really handsome and valuable ones would be meanly placed beyond her reach. Miss Brown was spend- intg the day with friends of her own. Mr. Albert was of course dangling about Miss Charlotte, and Mr. Sickles had persuaded Mrs. Seymour to accompany him on a visit to some acquaintance of their earllier years. "Miss Van Horne, won't you please tell us a Christmas story?"Perry asked, as the idea occurred to him ithat this would help to while away the time that hung' rather heavily on their hands. "Five, six, seven, eigllt," Miss Van Horne was counting the stiches of the blue worsted stocking she was knitting. The decisive manner in which she enunciated the "five, six," said that; her work must not be interrupted. Perry waited pationtly for a more propitious moment. Her voice subsided on the "seven, eight," and she went on with her counting inaudibly. Perry watched her lips and actions, till the counting ceased,. and the' careful measurement of the stocking with her loig finger showedt that the narrowing was complete, and then lie ventured once more. "Miss Van Horne, please tell us a Christmas story." "Just look at that plaguy fire. I've dusted that pana twice, and there it's all ashes again," and Miss Van' Horme rose as she spoke, brole the crust on the top of the smold- erling coals till the blaze flew up the chimn:ey in one broadl sleet of lioht, brushed the pan till not a speck dimmed the bright reflection of the fire, placed the shovel and tongs in thleir most erect position, and then, making the circuit of the page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 BRIGHT SUMMER-TIME, room, set every chair straight,' shook up the sofa cushions and readjusted the window curtains. Perry watched these operations in silence, knowing well that Miss Electa Van Holre would tell no story so long ns she could find other work to do. At last she resuined lher seat and her knitting. "Now, Miss Van. Horne," and Perry moved the bench on which he was sitting close up to her, and mlotioned to Nellie to place her's on the other side, "please tell us a story; a Christmas story." Miss Van Horne was gratified by the request. Perry saw that in her face, and was sure she had been conning over what to tell ever since he first preferred his request. But she still needed a little coaxing. ." She knew no stories. She was not used to story-telling. lThere was somethng better to be done than to hear and to tell stories.' But Perry persevered, and Nellie put in a word of persuasion. "They did want to hear a story so much ; and they were sure Miss Van Horne could tell somethingn; and Christmas nilght would be so dull if she did n't.; and they would be so nmch obliged if she did"' So Miss Van HTorne told her story, wlich we shall tell over again, with some verbal emendations. "Natie Roget was the pretiest little baby that ever was. Her mother died when she was three months old, and she was intrusted to the care of Christiana Van -Duyserline, a young woman who had been brought up in tie Roget family more as a friend than a dependent aiid servant, which in reality she was. Christiana loved Natie as much as a mother could have done. The Rogets were a Huguenot family, of noble descent. [ * * :AND A CHRISTMAS TALE. 139 The Count de Roget, their ancestor, when a very aged man, fled from France with his family to Holland, a few years be- fore the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, when Madame de Mainteion's influence with Louis XIV. began to be exerted against the Protestants., Natie's greeat-grandfather came to this country in 1750; a very rich man he was, and lived'in gIanid style. Brantz Van Duyserline, a tHollander, came over with him, and was his confidential servant, and had indeed the chief management of his estate. But the Revo- lution made great havoc of the fortunes of rich men, and Natit's father had little more to show for the grandeur of his ancestors than the great and half-ruined house in West- clhester couilty, with some two hundred acres of not ovei- good land. lIe kept up appearances, however, and lived like a gentleman all his days ; but 'his hospitality and gen- erosity eventually deprived Natie of what should have been her inheritance. The old house is gone now and a thriving town is growing upon the site of the old farm. "Christmas-day was a great day'in the Rotget family. Comn- paIy was invited, far and near; and there was always a ball at night that lasted till morning. When Natie was ten years old, her father invited tlLe children, as well as the grown people, to the Christmnas festival, and they' had a little party by themselves, with Christiana to take care of them, and Jeiry, the black fiddler, to play for them. "Among the guests was a boy twelve years old, whose mother had rented a small house on Mr. Roget's farm, and lived there alone with this one child. She was a lady, very elegant and accomplished, but poor. Some thought she had married beneath her and was ashamed to go back to her friends after her husband's death. However that was, page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O B F I TIT SUMAMEi-TIM E, she lived there alone, in an humble way, and devoted hersel to the education of this boy. he was an uncomlmon child not handsome exactly, but a fine, open, good face, with sue] a sweet expression, and a something which showed that Vle was a marked' character, different firom ordinary peoplV, THe had the prettiest white and red complexion, like a gir's. I-is eyes were gray, large, clear, and sparkling. His eye- brows were thick, even when he was a lad, and, what was singular, they were allmost black, while his hair was a liht brown. He was the most sensitive little fellow, a Word would bring tears to his eyes; and yet he was brave and hardy too. In his dress he was neat and particular to a fault, and his manners were gentle and graceful. 'Dear me! how folks change i'"Miss Van 1Iorne paused to ejacu- late. "This ,boy, refined as he was, had :an ugly and disagree- able name; but that was nothing. It was Joshua-Joshua Saunders." "Why," exclaimed Perry, " perhaps it was uncle Joshua and then Natie would b& mother, for she and uncle Joshua did know .each other When children only mother's amen isn't Natie." "It ought to have been, though," said Miss Van Holne, ith warmth. " 'ter grandmother was Natie, Natio Van Shaick; and a more respectable family than the Van Shaicks, never lived in Westchester county. But her father lad a fancy for English nlames and would not call her Natie. But you must not suppose, chil'dren," and Miss Van Holre, who had been betrayed by her ardor, spoke now very delib- erately and emphatically, " that my story has any thing to do with Mrs. Seymour, or Mr. Sickles either. Of course, AND A CHRISTMAS TALE. 141 I should tell you nothing about themcz. wont say that theat story's all false, nor all true; only it's about people Who lived before you were borin-lolng, long ago." Having put b tis point beyond question, Miss Van Horne proceeded with her story. "Joshua and Natic met that Christmas night, for the first time. They liked each other greatly, and frxom that day be- came very itimate. As neither hid brothers or sisters, and they livdd so near, in the country too, it was not surprising tlat they should seek each other's company. But what brought them still oftener together was, that Mrs. Saunders undertook tlihe instruction of Natie ; so they studied together as well as played together. "Things went on so till Joslua Saunders was fifteen years old, when he and his mother moved to New-York, and. he entered as clerk in a store. But he used often to visit the Rogets and was always there at Christmas time. "The Christmas after Natie was seventeen years old, the party at Mr. Roget's was more splendid than ever; for Natie was coming out now as a young lady. There was a band of music from New York, and Christiana Van Duyser- line had n6thiing to do with; the getting up of the supper that night, for it was brought from the city, with the waiters and all. They were an impertinent set of fellows, those Twaiters, and it was well that Christiana had something else to do, or she would have made the house too hot for them. But she was full of Natie, dressing her and admiring her, and thinking about her; and if she was proud of Natie, she had reason to be, for Natie was a picture of beauty that ni4ght. She wore a rose-colored silk, trinmmed with white satin. puffings, and her hair was tied with long strings of page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 BR IGJIT SUMMER-T IMA, "2 B R G I 1' S U 1 ar L R- r. I M E pearls. Wherever she moved about the room, all eyes were fixed upon her, and when she had passed, a murmur or de- light would be heard. Christiana Van Duyserline worshiped an idol that night, and forgot the instructions of good DI- minie Van Clief. She ha I only one regret, and that' was that Joshia Saunders wa;s not there to see Natie.; he, poor boy, for the first timel in eight years was absent, from the Christ- mas festival. His mother was very ill-she died, poor lady. "Many a fine fellow lost his heart at that Christmas ball. Among the rest was an officer, dressed in regimentals, a tall, handsome man, as ever you saw ;' of good family, too, and already distinguished. But. he was older by a great deal than Natie, and ought not to have thought of such a young' thing, as she was. After all the company was gone, and Natie had retired to her own room, she could talk of no one but that elegant and capiativating Captain Palmer. Christi- ana let, her go on for some time, and thense se said in a quiet way, "There was ncot a man here to-night as good-looking and as clever as young Joshua Saunders!" Natie never said another word, but undressed and went to bed as softly as the moonlight that was streaming in through the windows. "Day after day, f4or two or three weeks, Captain Palmer kept coming to Mr. Roget's. He talked to Natie, drove her out in the gig, rode with her on/ horseback, sailed with her on'the Sound, and slung with her at the piano. Natie grew prettier and prettier every day. She seemed like one intoxi- cated with happiness : her eyes sparkled so, and her cheeks were so flushed, and her laugh so frequent and merry. But she never said any th ing to Christiana Van Duyserline about Captain Palmer, after the first night, when Christiana put AND A CHRIIISTMAS TALE. 143 her down so. At last Christiana determined to be the first to speak. "' Natie,' she said, one day, ' what does that officer keep o' coming here for? "'Perhaps he is in love,' she answered, laughingly. "'Natie, do you mean to have him ' Christiana asked, point blank. "' Father says 'I may,' she answered, laughingly as before; but it was not altogether a joyous laugh, it was too nervous and excited for that. "Now 'Christiana thought that she, who had loved her and cared for her as a mother, ought to have been consulted in this matter, as well as her father; and so, perhaps, she was not over careful what she said. "' Natie,' she said, ' you 'll break the heart of a man who is Worth a hundred Captain Palmers.' , "' What do you mean?' asked Natie, eiti-ler not under- standing, or pretending not to; but she looked a little flur- ried. "'I mean Joshua Saunders,' aid Christiana, 'who has loved you ever since you were ten years old and he twelve.' "'What nonsense!' said Natie, trying to laughl; but she could not quite make it out. Joshua loves me just as I love him, as brothers and sisters' may love.' "'Joshua Saunders loves you as never brother loved sister yet, and you know it,' said Christiana, sternly. "'Why, dear Christiana,' said Natie, almost crying now, 'how can you say so? Joshua never said so, and never asked me to mairy him.' "'No, Natie,' answered Christiana, softening down in her way of speaking, as she began to pity the child,' Joshua page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] "4 B ]RI GT SUMl MER-TIME, never said so, becauso it would nolt have been right, and be- cause he never thoghllt it necessary. Ihe time ,has not come yet. Yon are. both too young, and he is not in busi- ness; le could not say any thing about marsriage. But Joshua shows .his love to you as p;iin as if he spoke it, and I believe that you, in your heart, love himi." Dear Clhritia.-'na sa, said Nai, we(eing' now violently, I6 do love Joshua so mu ch that the possibility of givinlC him pain distresses mel beyond measure. 13ut tlhn I never thought of such a thng as imarrying h im, and I hope, for all you say, that he never has. But I can't help it now. I am engaged to Captain Palmer, and I am sure I love him as I never could any one else.' "Christiana's woman's heart was touchedl. She said nothingc rore about Joshua, but tried to look at matters as Natie did, and though she ]had her doubts and misgivingss, she per- suaded herself that Natie did right in choosing the captain. ' The captain was ordered away on a long Cruiise, hnd that was an excuse for hurtying the wedding. In three months afterr Natie first sawr himi, Dominie Van Clief married her to Captain Palmer. "During these thrle months Joshlua Saunders never came to the Rogets. His sick mother required all his care. He never knew of the engagement even, till he received notes of invitation to the weddding. From that day he became a changed man. His mother died, and Natie existed no more for him: he had no relatives that he cared for and few ac- quaintances. He was alone in the world. Like many another man in similar temptations, he gave himnself up to money-making. eII became a rich and great merchant. He tried to bury every thhought in the one pursuit, and to make AND A CHRISTMAS TALE.. 145 th e world and himself think that qle cared for nothing but money. He neglected his dress, affected rough manners and sought under the guise of eccentricity to covey up from ob- servation the wound which this early disappointment made in his too sensitive nature." "Did he never marry?" asked Nellie. "No: unless late in life-that I can't say positively-he lived and died a bachelor." "He is dead, then!" said Perry. "So my story goes," was the answer. "I am sorry for that," said Perry, "I hoped the captain would be killed, and he and Natie would get married." "We can't have all. we hope for and would not always hope for what we do, if we knew the consequences," remark- ed Miss Va lorme, oracularly. "What, became of Natie?" asked Nellie. "Natie was dazzled into makting a great match: but I doubt if she found all in her husband she had expected. He, however, was kind and generous; and was much away at sea. Soon after her marriage, her father died and left her without a cent: the house and farm were sold to pay his debts. From that time they were dependent on the small compensation that an officer, received, smaller then than now. She devoted herself to the care of her children. She had no time to improve her mind. She never knew more'than she did when she was married, a mere child of seventeen; and her few and imperfect accomplishments were soon forgotten. It was well it was so, perhaps; for fifteen years after her marriage, her husband died and left her wholly dependent, for the support of herself and her children, on her own ex- ertions." , . I page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] "6 B n]. I GHT SUMMER-TIME. ' "Did n't Mr. Saunders help her then?" asked Perry, with a glow of indignation. "Yes, indeed. lie proved a true friend and did all that he could in a delicate way." a Why did nft he marry'her?"Perry asked again. "I don't know. Perhaps, she would n't have him. Perhaps he had lost his loyye for her, in the love of money. He was changed, you must; remember. He was n't the same man he once was." "Why did n't Christiana help her?" asked Nellie. "Who said she did not?" answered Miss Van Honme, almost fiercely. "I guess if it had not been for Christiana Van Duy- 'serline, Natie Palmer never could have got along as she did. Not that Mrs. Palmer was incapable. No, Christiana had given her good instruction and useful habits. Mrs. Palmer was no sickly, helpless, doleful creature, but as well and hearty, ac- tive and business-like, and good natured and cheerful too, as need be:--only she was a little too much of a lady after all, for the rough kind of work she had to do. It was a pity of her!" There were footsteps heard at that moment in the entry. Miss Van Horne looked disturbed, and with hasty over-pru- dence, gave this injiunction. "Be very careful, children, not to repeat this story." The children looked at each other inquiringly, as much as to say, "What does that imply?"But Mrs. Seymour was already in the room, and they could not utter their thoughts. But with the story and its strong resemblances, and the knowledge that it was not to be spoken of, and with eyes to observe things for tlhemselves, the secret was all but known already, and was safe in their honorable keeping. Miss Electa Van Ilorne had been betrayed into betraying family confidences. xv. dtism fenbs ,a gmi'nu 2IjjnilR g. "In the naked teinper which a merry heart discovered, he would sny, there is no danger, but to itself; whereas the very essnce of gravity was design, and con- sequently deceit-'t was a taught trick, to gain credit of the world for more sense and knowledge than a man was worth; and that, with all his pretensions, it was no better, but often worse, than what a French wit had long ago defined it, oiz., A mysterious carriage of the body, to cover the defects of the mind.-LAurENCE STENI-E. THEN the summer came again, the elder members of the family deserted Truro for the resorts of fashionable amusement, and left Maria and Helen with their governess, in the secluded enjoyment of the fine old estate. Harry and Perry Seymour caine again to spend their va- cation there. The latter was unusually sedate on the first evening of his arrival. Nellie renarked- it and was afraid some misfortune had befallen him; but, observing that grav- ity yielded to mirthfulness, on slight provocations, and was resumed again with evident effort, Nellie concluded sagely, that as Perry was now a big boy, he was trying to be manly in his deportment. The next morning they started together to visit Mr. and Mrs. Hughes. Nellie found that she had an unsocial com- panion. He had no eye for the flowers, no ear for the sing- ing birds, no answering word or look to Nellie's merry sallies, no wish to run, no will to talk, not even a hand to clasp hei's in that friendly fashion which indicates with children kind and intimate interest. - 7 }I page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] WISE JIEADS ON YOUNG SHOULDERS.. resisted firom her attempts to draw him out 'id chosen to hide himself in, and walked , watching his countenance, and trying to 1. of a shell it was. WTas it sorrow, sullen- It was not an -unhappy look; no, she was bad had happened. -It was not an angry so it could not be that he was offended. look; no, it was only a set, demure, as- k not at all natural to him, nor becoming. :rng, made-up face. But what for? Tuat C.. lie stile. Perry sat down on the second her seat beside him. P'erry gave a little stiller. She knew something was coming, move, almost to breathe, lest it might be ed. She did not wait long. 1an, in dolefully-dolorous accents, "I have Ou.1 ill be surprised, for you know how wicked I hope that's a!ll past now : and I think I hat I have come out, and made a profes- d was admitted to the communion last amusing, what but serious and solemn, in That Nellie should smile at it, should be outright, some persons could not under- shake their heads at her and tell her she But Nellie did not laugh at the infor- svay in which it was communicated. The lpropriate to the subject, the conclusion so different from what the preface had prepared her for-had he confessed some great crime, he could not have worn a more woe-begone countenance-buit why did he lay aside his frank, cheerful, pleasant ways, to tell her in this sanctimon- ious style such good tidings? Was there not something in the utter want of propriety between manner and matter, to provoke risibility? and Nellie was a great laugher : but she clapped both her hands over her mouth, after her old child- ish fashion, and kept themn there till she was sure she could speak with becoming seriousness; 'and before le even suspect- ed her of laughing, she was able to say, with all the warmth of her true heart: "Dear Perry, I am so glad." "Are you?" said Pe'ry, more in his natural tone now, for Nellie's unaffected simplicity made him forget mere manner- isi s; "are you, Nellie? I thought perhaps you would be, but I was not sure." - "Oh, Perry," she answered with a grieved and surprised air, "how could you doubt that I would be glad to hear it?" "I don't know, Nellie. I ougllt not to have. But tell me, Nellie, doo you think that you are pious?" "Pious?" she answered deliberatingly: "I don't know that I ought to say pious.' That seems to mean more good- liess than I have. But," and, her voice lowered and trembled, without losing distinctness and earnestness, "I think, Perry, I do love the Lord Jesus and feel that H loves mle." "How long have you thought so, Nellie?" "Always, I believe. At least always'since I knew cousin Hetty Hughes; and since her little baby, Georgie, died, I have been quite sure of it. I never knew exactly what it was to love Jesus befdre that. If you could have heard Mr. page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 150 WISE HEADS ON YOU NG SHOULDERS. Iughes say, when the little thiilg breathed its last breath, those Bible words, ' The Lord .gave, and the Lord hath takenl away; Blessed be the name of the Lord!' It was not the words, though they are beautiful: but the way he said them. Oh, how he did feel: so sorry and yet so willing to be sorry.: it seemed as if it would break my heart to hear him and yet there was a kind of joy in it. Whent he came to that part, 'Blessed be the iname of the Lord,'-I don't know what it was like unless something in nmsic, as if the loudest and soft- est notes of an organ were all melted into one. I was kneeling at the foot of the bed, and I could not move; for I do believe I was expecting the angels of Heaven to answer him back! And then to listen afterward to Mr. tIughes and cousin Hletty wheh they were talking about the little baby ;-it seemed as if they too t the Bible to mean every thing just as it says, as if they saw it all as plain as they saw the flowers, and' believed it as much as tlhey believed that the sun gave light to the earth. And whatever they talked about, they always ended with love to Christ and faith in His word. Sometimes it seemed as if they must see the Saviour with their eyes, they talked of him so lovingly and so trustingly. Wel l, Perry, I used to sit and listen to them, and at last I came to the conclusion that they had a feeling toward the. Saviour, in their hearts, which I did not have in mine. It puzzled me a great while to find out what that was. But it set me to reading the Bible and listeningo to Mr. Poole's ser- mons, as attentively as I could. And at last I thoughlt I found out what was the matter.--You 're not tired, are you Perry?" "Oh, no. Go on,. Nellie." / "I found out, Perry, that I loved the Saviour, because, as I WISE HEADS ON YOUNG SHOULDERS. 151 supposed, He loved flowers and birds and every pleasant and beautiful thing, and because He is tender and gentle and for- giving and withal very great and glorious and majestic. But I had never loved Him as the Saviour from sin and death. I had never understood what a sinner I was, and what he had endured to save me, and how His love shines in His willing- ness to save such as me. I did not find this out all at once. It t kept breaking upon ie by little and little, and growing clearer and-clearer, just as daylight does in the morning: and then, when it was all light, I knew that I did love Jesus as I had never loved Him before: and, oh, Perry, I felt as I never felt before (though. I never doubted it either, yet I have felt szure since), that Jesus does love me." Oh, Nellie, I am so glad!" So am I!" responded Nellie, in a breath, and then both laughed at the queerness of her saying so. "Come," she said, "it is time to go, or Mr. Hughes will be away." "Wait, Nellie," he said, "'I have not told you all. I think some of beirig a minister, and Mr. Sickles told mother-he did it in his queer way, I can't tell you how now, I will some other time. 'Mr. Sickles says I shall not be a burden on mother while pursuing my studies, in case I determine to-" "Is mlt Mr. Sickles good?" interrupted Nellie. "Yes; good that way, and I hope in the other way too," Perry answered. "But, you know, he always does things after his own fashion. He says I. must go to some college out of New York city." "'What is that. for?" asked Nellie. "Chiefly, I believe, because hle thinks Albert did not turn out very well; and partly, he says, because I need country page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] 152 WISE 'HEADS ON YOUNG SHOULDERS. air and exercise. But, Nellie, what do you think of my being a minister?"' I think, Perry, it is the very best thing ever could hap- pen. It is just what I always wanted you to be." "Did you? But do you really think I can ever be grave and serious enough. I am so fond of fun. For the last two weeks I have been trying to t act as I suppose one who means to be a minister ought to; and, Oh, Nellie! it is such hardl work! I think of every, thing that is awful and solemn; of death and judgment and eternity; the worth of souls and tlhe horrors of being lost. But I must be very, very bad, Nellie, for after all, I find myself jesting, and laughing, and trifling, like the most frivolous boy there is. I do. believe Harry, wild and thoughtless as he is, is better than I." Nellie was thilnkingo. He construed her silence into as- sent, and, after a pause, he added, dejectedly, "I am afraid I never can be a good Christian, unless I go away from 'the world's people' altogether, as the Shakers do." Nellie deliberated a long time before she spoke, and when she did, it was with evident diffidence of her own judgment. "Perry, I am sure you are wrong. I am afraid to say so, though, for fear I might tell. you wrong. But one thing I do know, that wheni you were trying to look Christian-like, you did not look so one bit. It never entered my head that you were trying to be good. You just wore a long, solemn- choly, put-on kind of face. I don't know why, but it gave me ugly feelings in my heart toward you, as if you wanted to impose upon me. I suspected, perhaps, that you wished to seem manly and indifferent to such childish things as please me. And when you began to tell me that you lope you are a Christian, why, P]erry, you did not say it at all as I should WISE HEADS ON YOUNG SIIOULDER'S. 153 have expected. You did not seem to think it a thing to be glad about. You spoke- as if it was somnething that could not, be talked of fieely and cheerfully; something dreadful. Why, Perry, when you came out with it at last, I liked to have laughed." And Nellie laughed now. But Perry did not; and it was with no affected gravity, but real sadness, that he said, "Well, Nellie, that just proves what I said, I can not be sober and sedate if I try, and so I ought not to be a minis- ter." ' Oh, Perry!" she said, with earnestness, "I think you ought to be. I am sure you are meant for a minister. But I tell you what I would do. I would just act naturally as you have always done-act just as you feel-and, perhaps, if Iiniisters. must look solemn, the solemn look will come of itself, without your trying to get it." "I don't know, Nellie," he answered, despondingly, '. but lthat you are right. It seems, at any rate, that there is no use in my trying to be what I am not." "I did not mean that, Perry ;" she interposed anxiously. "You must'n't give up all 'trying.' You must try to be good and to feel right. But I was talking about ' looks.' I don't believe good men think about their 'looks' at all. It' they have good 'looks,' it is because they have good Hearts." "That's a fact,' Nellie," he responded, brightening up. "I mean to try to have a good heart, and let my looks take care of themiselves."1 ' If you knew," Nellie said smiling, "how disagreeable your, looks were this morning, I am sure you would never wipsh to practirete thieml, even if you are to be a minister. r7-Y * i page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] HEADS ON YOUNG SHOULDERS. must hurry- to Cousin letty's; and please, make up your mind that you are not fit for a that day did Perry put on a look. He let. his go upon his tell-tale face just as they pleased, been used to do. Children, sitting on the style, talking in their they poor philosophers? XVII. "God hateth uncomfortable doctrine, heavy and sorrowful cogitations, and loveth cheerful hearts. For therefore hath He sent His Son, not to oppress us with heaviness and sorrow, but to cheer up our souls in Itim. * * Such as will be true followers of the Gospel must not be sharp and bitter, but gentle, mild courteous and fair spoken; which shlould encourage others to delight in their com- pany. Such a one was our Saviour Christ, as every where is to be seen in the Gospel. It is written of Peter that he wept so often as he remembered the sweet mildness of Christ, which He used in His daily conversation." MARTIN LUTHER. THE next winter Maria passed from under the hands of AMiss Brown, and tacitly suffered ejectment from the se- clusion of her past life, into the excitement of the gay world, never to become, a component part of that world, unless the part of a unit added to the million, one to the number, and naught to the quality. Even more quietly than the last passed the winter with Nellie. Perry was away. He had entered college. He spent the Christmas holidays at; home, but he must needs bring a friend with him, who greatly subtracted from Nellie's enljoyment of the visit. It was one of Perry's peculiarities that he was every body's friend, the consequence of which was that every body thought himself, particularly, specially, .and intimately a friend of Perry's. The least interesting, most gawky boy in the school was always sure of Perry's regard, and made 'the most of it: and Perry, having more benevolence, not less. discrimination, ri page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] 156 GARDEN TIIISTLES than most persons, permitted the oddities and forlornities of human nature, whom most, persons would shake .off, to hold fast to his skirts: and if they chose to put themselves on his kindness and hospitality on a holiday, or at dinner, or tea- time, Perry thought it was all right, arid often imagined that he had invited some one to come and see him, who in point of fact had invited himself. Even Mrs. Seymouirs good na- ture was on occasions rumpled by this peculiarity of her good-natured son; and Albert, his exquisite brother, judging of Perry according to the copy-book, by. the companye le kept, pronounced him a reproach to the family, and utterly unqualified to be a gentleman. Going to college, it seems, had not changed Perry's char- itable propensities toward those who otherwise had been 1 friendless. Mrs. Seymour was at one window of the large drawing-room, and Nellie at another, watching for his arrival. -They saw him approaching; but not alone. Beside him stalked' a gaunt, bony figure, noticeable for its height and pe- culiar carriage.' The body was innocent of any participation in the act of walking ;--why should it? the legs were made for locomotion, and the upper two stories of the human ani- mal have. their own work to do. In' the present, instance, by a more just divisio:n of labor than 'usually happens, the legs were left to do the walking, while the other members remained at rest.' .lrect and motionless, with arms hanging stiff and straight, as if pinned to the sides, the body was borne along by the two legs, which were thrown forward one before the other, with measured precision, looking for all the world like a pair of legs running away with a body that was so much dead and resistless matter. "Who orn earth-."i exclaimed Mrs. Seymour. A RE T HSTLES STIL L. 157, "Pshaw!"' responded Nellie-and both turned from the window, to await the advent of Perry, and introduction of one of his friends. The attendance of' this friend deprived P'erry of the pleas- ure. of meeting Nellie in the hall: she did not even stand ready to welcome him at the door of the parlor, but remain- ed seated on the sofa. When the friend was duly announced, Nellie was sure she had seen him before. The name too- "Mr. Stryker"-what' association had she with it? Then, like a flash, came the recollection of "the fashionable boot and shoemaker" of Cedarville-could this be-she looked again-yes-the flaming red hair, the high, narrow forehead, the eye-lids without lashes, the freclded skin-it was Jim Stryker, the quondam Sunday school-mate. If she needed confirmation she soon had it. The limbs of locomotion raised the body to which they were attached from the chair on which it was sitting, and carried it in a straight line to the sofa, and there let it down again in undesirable contiguity to herself: and the owner of the limbs and body addressed-Nellie in these words. "We are old acquaintances. Perhaps you do not remem- ber me?" "Yes, I do. You are from Cedarville.' I used to see you in the Sunday-school." "Is there much solemnity now in Cedarville?" was the next question, without any change in the harsh and high- pitched voice. '"Sir?" "Is there much religious feeling among the members of the church?" page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 158 GA RDEN THISTLES ellie was not sure of the d]rift of the question, and while meditating an answer, was startled by another question. "I hope, Miss Lee:, you are not averse to religious conver- sation ?" "No, sir," she answered heartily, "why should you think so ?"1 "You seemed to hesitate in your reply to my question," he said. "I was not sure that I understood it, sir." "I meant," he explained, " whether there was any peculiar interest in the subjeic of religion, more engagedness and prayerfulness than usual among church members, and anly awakening and conversions amongr the thoughtless and im- penitent ?" "More than usualf'" Nellie answered, meditatingly, "I should not saymore tlhan usual. Not that I know of:" " That is melancholy," said Mr. Stryker, " How cold and formal, worldly and wicked the people of Cedarville are." Nellie listened with astonishmrlent. This did not describe the simple, warm-hearted, church-going people of Cedarville at all, according to her apprehension of things. "Do you know Mr. Amnos Graves ?" beganrt Mr. Stryker, again. "I have seen him in the store," she replied, and she smiled; for she recollected Mr, Graves' earnest exhortation to her, not to adorn herself in purple and fine linen, the last time she bought brown muslin at; Slater's store. *"Mr. Graves is of the salt of the earth," remarked Ml. Stryker. "He keeps that church alive. I do not know what it would be without him; for Mr. Poole is so-so--he is a good man, but very lifeless." Nellie had never heard Mr.,Poole spoken of but with the ARE THSTLES STILL. 159 highest respect. She was shocked, and attempted no reply. Mr. Stryker changed the subject of conversation, not, as it proved, more' to her taste. "You are very gay, here in the city, I suppose?" "Do you mean me, or all the people of New York?" in- quired Nellie, with simplicity, "You, I mean. I suppose you see a great deal of the fashionable and gay world?" "Why, sir," and Nellie laughed outright, "I am only twelve years old, and have not a chance to see much of the world." "I hope you never will," he said, solemnly.. "And you must not forget that, though 'only twelve years old,' you may die before you are older, and ought to be ready for leath. I see, you look very pale and delicate. I fear you can not live long." This alarming information made Nellie feel 'pale and deli- :ate' all over. She had never been sick a day in her life, Jhat she remembered, and did not know what it was to have i pain or an ache. But to be told so seriously, and with uch assurance, by a very solemn man, that she was prob- lbly near death, was not pleasant, to say the least. To veaker nerves than Nellie's, it would have been agitating. "Why did you bring that Mr. Stryker with you?' she aid to Perry, next day. "Do you not fancy him?" he asked. '(Fancy him! He's a dreadful man. What do you tlink e said to me last night? He said I looked pale and deli- ate, and he did not believe I would live long." "He meant well, Nellie." "He meant to fiighten me into religion. Would you call page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 160 GARDE'N THSTLES that 'well? Oh, dear, I wonder if'he can be a Chiristiau? Mr. Poole never talks so to me." "Nellie dear, Clhiristians must have their peculiarities. If Mr. Poole and he were not Christians, they would be, per- haps, even more lifferent than they are. He is not the same stuff that Mr. Poole is made of; but he is a good man -so devoted, always ready for religious conversation, and so ardent in seeking the salvation of others. You would like him if you knew him better." " I don't wish to know him," she said, indignantly. "And I do wonder how you, who are so different, ever became in- timate with him." "I am not exactly 'intimate' with him, Nellie. It hap- pened that we met one day, not long ago, at the theological seminary, of vhich he is a student, and soon got talking .of Cedarville; and fir din,! that we had so many mutual ac- quaintances, the feeling grew up, somehow, that we were old friends." Suppose you were," said Nellie, whose good-nature was disturbed, "what did you bring him here for? ' It just spoils your visit, and I had calculated so much upon it." "The fact is, Nellie, I am a little sorry myself. I never thought of such a tling till the day before I came, when we happened to meet, and I found out that he had never seen much of New York and longed to make a visit here, but had no friends in the city, and could not afford to stay at a hotel. So, on the spur of the moment; I asked him to come with me, and he accepted." "Accepted right off?" asked Nellie, with increasing dis- like to the subject of. the conversation. "l[ow could he know that your mother would care to see him?" ARE THSTLES STILL. 161 "To have( objected on that account would have been an ill compliment to me. I invited him, and politeness required him to suppose that my invitation was sufficient." "Politeness " repeated Nellie, satirically. "I don't be- lievr'e he knows what it is." "Take care, Nellie. You are setting yourself against this man. Is it Christian-like.?" "Oh, Perry, I am bad. But I can not help some malice toward him for interfering with my pleasure. You will have to entertain him, and show him the city, and I shall have no good of your visit." ' "A very selfish reason for your dislike, Nellie." "I know it," sle answered, with an assenting smnile. "He is a poor young man," continued Perry, with serious-l ness. "He has never seen much of the world ; and this visit will. be a real treatt to him, and, pelrhps, some advantage." Y "Well, Perry," sie retorted, archly, "if you are glad he is here, I will try to be glad'too." Neither of them looked very glad; and it was with a re- luctant air that Perry put on his over-coat to escort Mr. Stry- kcr about the city; and with a tired and unhappy air that he returned, late in the afternoon, from the lionizing expedition. That evening, Nellie remained in her father's parlor. The fear of Mr. Stryker kept her from the little room. Her hope was that Perry would come to see her ; they could have almost as nice a time by the table, behind the sofa, where she placed two chairs on purpose, as if they were in the little plarlor with Mr. Seymour. The grown people were so inter- csted in tlemselves, and the room so large, they would be quite undisturbed. Perry did come, but not unattended. Mr. Stryker stalked page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 GARDEN THSTLES in behind him. The entree. produced an evident sensation, for there was a sensible pause in the murmuring of conversa- : tion. The introduction of Mr. Stryker to Mr. and Mrs. Lee was accomplisheId and the conversation murmured and bustled on again in every part of the room, and save for an eye stealthily fixed, or a humorous smile darted toward Mr. Stryker, the presence of that gentlemann would have been ll- noticed beyond the immediate circle of which for the first few minutes he wnas, as a stranger--the center object of polite attention. Flardly was the divinity student seated in the clair which Mr. Lee designated for his reception,-before he en- tered on an explanation of his visit. "I felt, sir," ie began, addressing Mr. Lee, " that I could not be under the' same roof with you, sir, without paying you my respects." Mr. Lee was surprised. - "I owe you, sir, a debt of gratitude." Mr. Lee grew nervous. "You nmay not remember me, sir, but I am that James Stryker whoim you have kindly assisted in procuringl an education in view of the ministry :"--Mr. Lee wished he had not-" and though my circumstances are straitened, your beneficence has en- abled me to persevere." Mr. Lee was indignant. "I hope, sir, while doing good to others, you do not neglect your own immortal interests." Mr. Lee was angry. "At any rate, sir, I shall pray for you and never forget how much I am in- debted to you." Mr. Lee was disgusted. Very severely cool and politely emphatic was Mr. Lee's answer. "To mei sir, you are not in the least indebted. I give to Mr. Poole a certain sum annually for benevolent objects and leave the whole disposition of it to him. To him, sir, to Mr. Poole, you are wholly indebted-wholly, sir.'? ARE THSTLES STILL. 163 "Ah!-indeed!" stammered Mr. Stryker, abashed not by the words, but the perfect and frigid politeness. "I never knew that, sir, I thought Mr. Poole's agency was wholly at your suggestion-at least-"' -But Mr. Lee hadturned away to talk to Perry about col- lege life; and soon after removed himself from the vicinity of Mr. Stryker and the possibility of any further expressions of his gratitude. Perry, observing his friend rather awkwardly left lfone in his perpendicularity on his chair in the middle of the room, soon rose to go ; and Mr. Stryker was bowed out of a parlor he never entered again. The next morning Mrs. Seymour's little parlor was as full as it well could be. Mr. Sickles was talking with Perry, and Nellie was listening. Mrs. Seymour was attempting to an- swer Mr. Stryker's questions as to the exact number of memn- bers and the precise amount of vital religion in the church she attended. Albert was in elegant repose, neither talking, nor being talked to, nor taking the least possible interest in thlose who were. A serivant entered bearing a coat. "For Mr. Albert, from the tailor." Mr. Sickles never resisted on opportunity of tormenting Albert. Did Albert never resent it? No. Why not? Per- hlaps there were some selfish and political motives; perhaps, it w:s owilng to Albert's amiability. For he was amiable- this one virtue had flowed from lhis mother to himself-only with her it was good-hunmor and heart-kindliness-with himl it was something between insensibility and indolence and verged toward pusillanimity: but people called it amiability, and so we will. "An over-coat?" asked Mr. Sickles, as Albert languidly page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 164 GARDEN THSTLES and with practised carelessness, threw it on a chair a little out of sight. "Yes," said Albert. "Let me see it," said Mr. Sickles. "I suppose it is the one you bought last fall. ]Did you tear it that it 'required returning to the tail6r's hands? Bless me!" he exclaimed, as he displayed ar new and elegant black surtout, got up in the latest fashion, "how exquisite, how gentlemanly," with an emphasis on the last word. "What a dash you will cut in Broadway. They will take you for a millionaire. 'There goes rich Mr. Seymour!' 'Rich, did you say?' 'Yes, oh, very rich! don't you see his coat? rich as Crsus!' Albert languidly took out his snuff-box. It was a recent fashion to use that article-very modish-and, when Mr. Sickles chose to be satirical, very useful. The coat in the mean time passed into the hands of Mr. Stryker, and was the subject of a conversation, which, :if intended to be aside, was too distinctly audible, "Perry, how much could I buy an overcoat for?" "That would depend upon the quality." "I must have a good one, of course. Strange that minis- ters are required to dress in black cloth, the most expensive material; and that, when they are so poorly paid." Mr. Stryker was not yet a minister, whatever his prospects for the ministry were., and no one would have thouglht it unbe- coming in him to dress in other than black cloth,' even if it were not of the superfine quality which he did wear, "Do you thinkl; I could buy an overcoat for fifteen dol- lars?"Mr. Stryker asked. "Not a very good one,!' Perry answered. "I could get one for that price, of some sort, you think?'" ARE THSTLES STILL. 165 ( Undoubtedly." "Cheap clothes are dear in the end; they do not last. I ani not sure that I have even fifteeni dollars to spare, either. I think I must go without it." And he heaved a sigh of pity for himself, as he replaced the, elegant article on the chair. Perry was in distress lest Mr. Sickles' quick ear should have caught these words. , Something of Mr. Sickles' eccen- tricities he had only the day before related to Mr. Stryker; could le now intend-? Perry dlared not look at Mr. Sick- les, but lie heard the rush to the door, and the familiar tramp through the hall; he knew that something would follow. To Pei'ry's relief, however, Mr. Sickles went up stairs. Per- g haps he had not overheard the conversation. Perry's anxi- ety now was to get his friend out of the, house before Mr. ! Sickles should come down again. But Mr. Stryker was im- perturbably slow. They had not reached, the fiont door, wlen Mr. Sickles' tramp arnd voice were heard together coming down stairs. He called Perry. They had to stop. "Perry, you are going 'down town with Mr. Stryker, I think you said?" "Yes, sir." ' You will pass by my tailor's?" "No, sir," answered Perry, very distinctly.' Mr. Sickles stared, and hesitated an instant, but it was only an instant. '; I am sorry to trouble you, Perry, but if you will step in there, and hand this note to Mr. Cutter, and wait for an an- swer, you will oblige me." Perry burned to the roots of his hair with a sense of shame, as if he had been personally asking for what was given to " his friend." But there was no help for it. , . . page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 166 GARDEN THSTLES. Mr. Stryker was duly surpiised when Mr. CtGtter re- quested the privilege of taking his measure, and very grate- ful to Mr. Sickles when lie left the city with a new overcoat. "Why did you, Mr. Sickles " "Because, my dear Mrs. Seymour', your son wouldlhave o hated me if I had not. There is no end to the expense you and your family 'and, your friends and your poor, madam, put me to." I But Perry took good care never to ask Mr. Stryker to spend the Christmlas holidays with him again. The rest of the winter was quiet enough for Nellie. M'. Sickles, indeed, afforded her the ordinary mixture of amuse- ment and pleasure, and Mrs. Seymour was kinder than ever. Sometimes she spent a day at brother Robeit's, or at the Jays, but there was little else than the change to make these days pleasanter than those at home. Sometimes she was in- vited to a child's party; but it was an affair of dress and supper-there were few children in the city. She was, how- ever, becoming interested more and moi'e in her studies. A real respect for her teacher, and untiring fidelity on the part of that teacher, gave her lessons a zest which they had once wanted. She was obliged, too, to improve the winter by taking an extra number of music lessons which the country- could not afford. Much time was spent at the piano; and such was her improvement that even Mr. Sickles would lis- ten to her with patience, and, smetimes, with pleasure; and he was very critical and hard to please. But Nellie, for all, missed Perry. ' t k* XVIII. l0toaer f lel1 aflrt ef al HeW jeli^g "In the highest realms of glory Spirits trace, before the throne, On eternal scrolls, the story Of each little moment flown; Every deed, and word, and thought, Through the whole creation wrought."7 JAMES MONTGOMERY. HE first event in the 'spring', after the return of the family to Truro, was the marriage of Charlotte to Mr. Augustus Gaylord, a wealthy Louisianian. Older by ten years than herself, -with less cultivation of mind and mannelrs, and no more natural ability, with a plain countenance sallowed by a southern climate, and marked with the lines of southern indo- lence and self-indulgence, Mr.. Gaylord offered to his young and beautiful bride no other captivation than that of wealth, high-breeding, generosity and a devil-may-care willihgness that; every one should do as they pleased. Nellie wondered at her sister's infatuation. She even cried sisterly tears for her in secret. But Nellie was young in years and worldly knowledge. Charlotte was well matched, so far as tastes and sympathies were concerned, and if her husband added no heart-pleasures to her life, he gave her all that she was capable of enjoying--wealth, luxury, society, : and uncurbed liberty to follow her own inclinations. The summer was passed by the newly-married pair in va- Kt ', ' page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] 168 FLOWERS WELL SORTED, rious places of fashionable resort. Emma was with them. The rest of the ftmily relmained at home. Gracie Darling was, what Emma called him, " a love or a man." Slender, gracefful, "pretty" in a feminine way, amiable, with sense and cultivation enough for a man of the world, who needed to be a gentleman, 'and did not need to make a fortune. Gracie Darling had been a very frequent visitor at the Lees for a twelvemonth, and was one of the traveling party this summer. It turned out just as people said it would and hoped it would, G:racie Darling and Emma Lee fell in love, were engaged, and, in the month of October, just before Mr. and Mrs. Gaylord started for their southern home, were married, and removed to their own house in the city of New York. The two marriages effected a complete change in the plans and habits of the family. It was long before Nellie spent another winter in New York. Maria, indisposed at all times to society, was rendered unfit for it by increasing delicacy of health. To the delight of all parties, therefore, it was deter- mined that Truro should be the home it used to be. With the keen relish of a long intermitted pleasure, Mr. Lee ap' plied himself with assiduity to his self-imposed rural tasks. Mrs. Lee was really excited to animation by this unexpected escape from a course of life utterly distasteful to her. And Nellie was happier than words could express. Years of uninterrupted happiness were the next three in Nellie's life. Except 'a few weeks of gayety, pleasant for va- riety's sake, 'in the summer, when married sisters and broth- ers and city friends invaded Truro, and troops of children filled the halls of the old house and the avenues of the spa- AN'D A NEW SEEDLING. 169 cious grounds with fun and frolic, life at Truro flowed se- renely bright, like a stream from a fountain inclosed in mar- ble defenses against all harsh disturbances, which is gilded by the sunbeam and silvered by the moonlight, and played upon by the rippling breezes, and attended by the fragrance of flowers, and the song of birds to its unpredicted destiny. Miss Brown relaxed, more and more, the rigidity of the governess, and as far as the precise formality of her man- ners would allow, assumed the character of a friend, and be- came an agreeable member of the family circle. Nellie and Maria grew more into each others, affections. Maria, though six years older, learned to depend on Nellie's efficiency for help, and on her cheerfulness for enjoyment, and disused the old peevish and irritable ways in which she had once treated the impulsive and high-spirited child. To Mr. Lee, Nellie became more of a companion than any of his children had been. Her joyous spirit attracted him to her, her affectionate trustfulness endeared her to him, while her quick intelligence and (thanks to Miss Brown) disciplined culture, enabled her to enter into his studies, appreciate his scientific tastes, and improve by his knowledge. He, in the mean time, tasted the new pleasure, in this his youngest child, of leading out the mind to inquiry, and witnessing the happy fruits 6f his own efforts in her rapid improvement. To this he was prolnpted by pare selfishness. Had her intellectual vigor or desire to please been less, would he have made equal efforts for her benefit? No; like Charlotte, Emma, and Maria, she might have developed, as her own tastes or the molding world determined, without one paternal attempt to fashion the plastic material. But other influences, had been at work. Hetty Hughes with Christian love and pur- 8 page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 . FLOWERS WELL SORTED, pose had led hel to the fountain that purifies and invigorates the hidden energies of the life, and she was "saved;" saved from a life of worldliness, of passion, or of aimless imbecility, not by Miss Brown's thorough training of the intellect, not by the father's wise and faithful discipline, but by the, grace of Jesus, by the washing of regeneration, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost." This had prepared her to profit by Miss Brown's instructions, and to be the delight of her father's latter years. But the father understood it not so. He selfishly interested himself in her, because she rewarded his pains; and then, with equal selfishness, he took to him- self the praise, and with self-felicitatioris contemplated the fruits of excellence in her character which had sprung from seeds of his supposed planting. How few are the disinter- ested parents! Nellie became necessary to her father's happiness. When he rode over his estate, she cantered on her, own horse be- side him, interested in his agricultural experiments, listening with patience even when she did not fully comprehend or enjoy them, to all the dry statistics of 'how much an acre had produced, or could produce under one, or another kind of culture, or might possibly produce under some new and yet untried kind of culture. She was often with him on clear nights in the observatory, studying the celestial geography, seeking out invisible comets, or watching for culminations and oscultations, which pitiful or pitiless clouds might, or might not break away in the nick of time to discover. In the longi winter evenings' Mr. Lee did not disappear into his library ,as in the old times, but he was the reader in the oak-room of instructive and. entertaining books, selected with reference to Nellie's capacities (which did not require the weakest AND A NEW SEEDLING. 171 aliment). There were animated, conversations on what was read, delightful not only to Mr. Lee, Miss Brown and Nellie, but quietly enjoyed by Mrs. Lee, and waking up sometimes even the dormant life of poor Maria. Those were pleasant days, too, which Mr. and Mrs. Poole, on occasions, spent at Truro. Mrs. Poole was as quiet as Mrs. Lee, though unlike her she concealed a world of silent energy under an unruffled exterior-lcers was a Quaker-like quietness: deep, pervading, self-controlled. Mrs. Lee's was a timid, self-distrustful, helpless inactivity. Neither was un- social or cheerless; there was always a pleasant, affectionate answer in the eye, if the lips -were still. It was singular that the two should enjoy each other's dumb society. But they did. Nellie watched them once for an hour, as they sat together in the bay-window of the sunlighted oak-room, while her father and Mr. Poole were conversing on the sofa. During the whole time neither opened her lips. Mrs. Poole varied the exercise of knitting only by an occasional glance out of the window over at the conservatory. Yet any one 'just entering the room and observing the pleasant smile on her handsome face,. woild have thought she had just made, or was just about to make sonme sprightly remark. But no, it was only the happy radiation of unspoken thoughts. Mrs. Lee's gentle face was more grave in its absolute repose. Once in a while it looked toward her tranquil neighbor, and then, as if refreshed with the assurance that she was happy and contented, returned with a satisfied expression to her sewing. Quiet people, provided they'are let alone in their quietness, enjoy life far more than their talkative neighbors suppose. Do not try to entertain them, and they are always ente'tained. The misery is, that talkers who love talking ' page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 172 FLOWERS WELL SO'RTED, can not understald how any one can be happy without talk- ing, and therefore in the excess of benevolence, make them- selves uncomfortable and put their victims to torture by in- genioutsly striving to compel conversation. Mr. Poole was so unobtrusive that his people knew neither his real value, nor how much they were attached, to him. To like Mr. Poole was a matter of course; there was nothing to dislike about him: but they did. not know how much they loved him, nor that they did not love him half elnough. So with Nellie, she never investigated the nature of her feel- * ings toward her pastor. Had le been like most men, she would have been obliged to ask hierself whether she loved him or not, much or little. As it was, she never thought about it. If any one else had asked her, she would have said, without weighing words, "Like Mr. Poole? to be sure I do!" But Nellie's judgment was ripening now-a-days, and she began to appreciate more justly Mr. Poole's sermons, and through them the man himself. 'From a little girl she had been an attentive listener in church, but never knew till now how much belnefit she derived froim listening. Every Sunday, it seemed to her, she obtained some new, pleasant or profitable view of the great truths of the Word. Nellie observed, too, that a sober, serious thoughtfulness diffused itself through the family circle, after listening to one of the pastor's discourses. No one thought of saying, How eloquent Mr. Poole was, how impressive, how great:" but the conversation was sure to turn on the subject of the sermon; and, oftentimes, Mr. Lee would get the Bible and study the text in its connections and parallel passages, or, in the even- ing, select sometlhing to be read aloud on the same sub- ject. AND A NEW SEEDLING. 1'73 IIow profitable those after-sermon talks were. How many good things they fixed in the memory, which else had been forgotten. How often points impressed upon one mind were brought to the observation of all. The benefit was multi- plied according to the numlber of hearers, for each contribut- ed to the colmmon stock, some particular good that had been individually received. Maria especially derived benefit from these home improve- ments of the sermon in church. Negatively and listlessly good, she had attended the services of the sanctuary all her life without being once aroused to thorough attention. But now a new interest ,was awakened. She found that there was something to be gained by listening. The slight im- pression which a passing thought might make, was revived and deepened when the same thought was reiterated at homie. In the familiar talk many thing s were explained or brought out in a manner more intelligible to one of her slow apprehension. Less seldoml now than formeily, did she make indisposition a plea for remaining at home' on Sunday. She was always ready and anxious to go, even when it required, an effbort which might lawfully have been ex- cused. ' One summer evening Nellie found Maria, sitting in the window-seat of one of the western windows of the library, intently poriDg over a book. "Pursuing knowledge under difficulties?" lightly asked Nellie. Marial turned the book toward Nellie, with a sober shile. It=was the Bible. Nellie put her arm up to her sister's nepl pulled her head down and kissed her. "Nellie, it is hard." page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174 FILOWERS WELL SORTED. "It is easy, Maria." "Every thing is easy for you, Nellie." "The Lord Jesus has made it easy for all." Maria slipped down from the high window-seat, and with entwined arms they watched the last streaks of fading light. Not another word was spoken. Maria was too incommuni- cative, and Nellie too young to venture a remark, and not used to this new and sisterly confidence. But they under- stood each otherlnow. A new tie was formed. With the l, light that seemed retreating from earth to Heaven their souls set out together then for the Heavenly glory. ,I hear Him sayin, to rme, Come up hither.'-Last ords f SAMUEL RUTI- URFORD. "And now I leave off to speak any more to creatures, and begin my inter- course with God, which shall never l2e broken off."-Last zoords qfHuavn MACKArL. THE more Helen Lee learned to value Mr. Poole's sermons, tie less pleased was se to have any other minjster to oc- cupy his place in the pulpit. With no satisfaction, therefore, did she discover, one Sunday, that the pulpit had two occu- pants; and wheh, a tall, gaunt forim, elevated itself to its full height, and she recognized her quondam Sunday-school inmate, now the Reverend James Stryker, the first feeling of dis- appointment grew into a sense of general uncomfortableness. She could R othave explainel her sensations, could have given no good reason why she should indulge them; but shAe feltf very unwilling to hear that man preach and the in- voluntary wish rose in her heart that she ad. staid at home with Maria, instead of Miss Brown. Harry happened to be end of the pew, was trying every available means to attract her attention. i She would notice none of his telegraphin, xpedients, and Harry had to content himself with o hisper- expedients, anld Harry had to contenlt himself' with. whisper- page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] 176 S PIRITUAL HUSBAN DRY: ing to his father, that "that was Jim Stryker, the shoe- maker's son." M!['. Lee knew. it already, and was wishitng either himself or the preacher elsewhere. There was a nervous rustling throughlout the congregation. An audience painfully sympathizes with the presumable difli- dence' of a debutant, and in the present instance, all were less at their ease than the speaker. 'Whether it were 'owing to unimpressibilitj, or self-confidence, or engagedness in his work, no trace bf embarrassment was manifested by Mr. Stryker, in voice, countenance, or gesture.. Neither was there' an air of conceit, or assumption about him; only an imperturbable assurance and self-possession, such as one might have that lad, preached a life-time. The subject of Mr. Stryker's sermon was, "The exceeding sinfulness of sin." His delivery, though ungraceful always, ludicrously awkward sometimes, was energetic and " tell- ing." The discourse itself was able, pungent and-effective; the argument, sound; the application, powerful; the gen- eral effect, what is called by a certain class of preachers, "alarming." The congregation lost the sense of sylpathy, in listening interest; even Harry Lee was subdued' into re- luctant attention, and Mr. Lee, impressed with the conviction of the preacher's ability, was among the first in the throng of friends 'that crowded around the pulpit after the services were ended, to take the young licentiate by the hand. The afternoon sermon by Mr. Poole himself, was in strik- ing contrast' with the morning's. It was like the cool, fia- grant breeze, after a day of blasting heat.. It was drawingl water with joy from the wells of salvation, after the' thirst and terrors of the wilderness of Horeb. The text was, ' The blood of Jesus Christ IIis Son .cleanseth us from all sin." SUNLIGHT AND SHOWERS. 1" Though the delivery was less impressive, it was no less able in substance, and more finished in style; but its characteris- tic qualities were those, iii respect to which the morning's sermon was as sterile as the sands of Libya, tenderness, sym- cpathy, persuasiveness, faith in the Gospel, love to Christ. Did the good. people of Cedarville know its excellencies? Perhaps not. Many of the farmers' families, who seldom at- tended the afternoon services, owing to the distance of their dwellings from the church, were there this afternoon, and were manifestly disappointed that Mr. Poole preached, in- stead of the young Boanerges; and ' young"Mr. Graves, who nearly crushed Helen's hand in the morning, as he empihas- ized the words, "What a solemn sermon!" was guilty of sus- picious symptoms of drowsiness in the afternoon. The next Sunday morning the Rev. James Stryker occu- pied the pulpit again. His text was, "For whosoever shall keep 'the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he' is guilty of all." It was a fearful sermon for sensitive consciences. It riveted unwavering' attention. There was too much sledge- hammer' folce in it to suffer drowsiness or indifference. As the congregation left the house, some faces looked solemn, and uneasy; others seemed sad, distressed, unhappy, anx- ious, such were Hetty Hughles' and Helen Lee's. Mr. Graves' was ecstatic. His homely face was illuminated with a smile that played on the borders of a laugli, and, as he passed., down the 'aisle, he exclaimed to one and another, "What an awakening discourse!" "rWhat a remarkable young man!" "Howr awfully solemn!" But the countenances of most wore only a pleased, surprised expression. They had been kept awake. They found that tlhere was something in preaching after all. Tlhey hadI been entertained and aston- e ' 8" ' i page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 1 S , SPIRJITUAL HUSBAN. DRY: ished, much as they would have been if a successive volley of musketry had been discharged from the pulpit, which in- deed was, in a figluie, the truth. Mr. Stryker concluded the morning services with the an- nouncement that he should, God willing, continue the sub- I ject in the afteirnoon. Never was the Cedarville church so full at an afternoon service before. Not a family, however remote their residence froml the 1church, was absent: not a seat was vacant--except the pew of James Stryker' Sr., "fashionable boot and shoemaker'-that was occupied in sol- itary dignity by the Rev. Janmes Stryker' himself; that he sat there, was an indui table fact, an erect iilnmovable fact, even to the fingers encadsed inl black silk gloves; and there he con- tinued to sit througlhout the services. Mr. Poole was in the pulpit, and rose to preach with an air of modest emb)arrassmlent. e sai fed "h fearehe was the cause of great disappointment. The notice given by the young brother in the morning had taken him entirely by surprise. Hlad he (the young brotler) been more expe- rienced, he would not have ventured the notice without con- sulting the pastor first. The meeting of an ecclesiastical body would require his absence from the village on the next Sun- day, and his young friend should supply the pulpit'both morning and afternoon. "I am not," he continued, "alto- gether sorry for this occurrence. I am old and can not preach the Gospel to you, my dear people, much longer. And now that I shall not preach to you again before a fort- night, I rejoice in the privilege of addressing so many of you this afternoon." Either the morning's sermon had effectually roused the minds of the people, or the singular preface gave zest and *i r SUNLIGTII AND SHO'WE RS. ' 1 79 animation to the discourse, or else Mr. Poole excelled him- self; for never had the people of Cedarville listened so at- tentivel y to Mr. Poole's preaching, and never had Mr. Poole's preaching so nearly approached eloquence in the estimation of the people of Cedarville. Thle themie was "Christ our' righteousness." Every peculiar doctrine, every distinctive feature of the glorious gospel of the grace of God, was in that sermon, without' crowding of ideas, or confusion of thought; every word was clear, plain and intelligible; every sentence full, pointed and impressive. The mystical union of believers with Christ; their justification, adoption and sanctification inl Christ; and their futurie felicity and glory in and with Christ their ilead, were the principal topics. Then h6 reminded theml that this union was exhibited to faith in baptism and iin the sacrament of Christ's body and blood: affectionately he dwelt on the fact that many of that flock, in their infancy, were laid 'in his arms, and with his hands, with "pure water" and in the name of the covenanting God, were visibly received into the body of Christ; and many, from his hands, had received the bread of communion and the cup of blessing. He spoke of living in Christ and of dying' in Christ; of the joy of spirits with Christ in Par- adise and the peaceful resting of their bodies which are " still united to Christ" in their graves; and, finally, of the resur-' rection in Christ at the last day and the triumph in Christ f rever, when believers shall be made "perfectly blessed in the full enjoyment of God to all eternity." WThile le spoke, tile history of his long pastoral care revived, facts and inci- dents flowed in upon his memory, and many personal allu- sions to those who had departed'in the faith, recalled the faimiliar forms of holy men and women--thie aged and the page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] 180 SPIRIT'UAL HUSBANDRY: young-who once worshiped there and now lay in sleep under the shadow of the old church walls. And oh! how earnestly did he exhort, how persuasively did he invite, how hopefully did he encourage all his dear flock to seek with them who had gone before-Christ the sinners' righteous- ness to live, to die:, to rejoice, to rise again and to triumph in Christ forever and ever. Silent as the melting snow was the departure of the peo- pie from the house of God. No word was spoken. No salutations exchanged. A strain of heavenly music had fallen on their ears-and, still entranced, the dullest hearts and minds were vibrating with the sacred harmonies. A still, small voice had spcken--and all-subdued awed, thrilled- felt as the prophet felt, when he wrapped his face in his gar- ment and stood silent, thoughtful and overpowered in the presence of his Go(d. Silently the family of Truro returned to their home. Silently thley separated to their own apartments. The in- fluence was too deep for speech. Eut angels heard the voice of prayer as it rose, in weak and tearful accents, from the chamber where Maria knelt, "Lord, I believe, help Thou my unbelief,"-and in manly and measured words : from the library, where the father, on lkees that had seldom bent in sacred devotion, asked for light, strength, forgive- ness and salvation;' as it went up from the mother's gentle heart in mute pleadings for a husband and for children; and as it ascended from Nellie's closet, where hope smiled and Christ our righteousness appeared in His transfigured glory- and, like the sainted Rutherford, the child's heart "sent word to the Beloved, th at she lqved to loye lHiml'" SUNLIGHT AND SIOWEltS. 181 That night the pastor of Cedarville, 'having served his own generation, by the will of God, fell on sleep, and was gathered to the fathers.' He returned to the parsonage, after the efforts of the after- noon, in a glow of excitement. He talked much with his wife of his pastoral charge--of his labors, his hopes, his fears --le mentioned many of his people by name.- Twice, in the course of the evening, they knelt together in prayer, and he poured out his heart's desire for the flock of his care, in such particular and urgent entreaties as she had never heard. Even after they retired at night he continued to talk of those who had been and were not, of those still living--and of the reunions in bliss and glory which were to be. At last he was silent, and she fell asleep. How long she-slept, or what awakened her, she knew not. But she was at once aware, as if lie or some other had told her, that he was dying. She spoke to him;' he answered not. She raised his head; it weighed heavily in her hands. She brought a light; the eyes were closed, a smile was on his lips; and while site looked, hoping it; was sleep, with one long sigh the breath departed. There were genuine tears of affectionate sorrow at Truro. They would have been floods could the weepers have known -as perhaps some of them did afterward, how great the loss was to themselves. This was Helen Lee's first sorrow. She wept as the most loving daughter of the flock for the most beloved of pastors. But there is no bitterness, no heart-rending in such grief; only a gentle dissolving of the heart into a soft and pleasing tenderness. The elasticity of youthful and unbroken spirits speedily recovered from the first shock of tears and left her j ,; page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 182 S?II T U A L i S BAND RY: in a quiet sadness, with the gleamings of heavenly hope shining througll the overshadowing clouds. In this frame of :mind sle wandered out in the afternoon to seek refreshment; in the still solitude of the mountain for-, ests. She climbed up the hill-sides till she came to lthe spring from which the rivulet flowed down, down, down, by the tannery, the village, the grist-mill, to the valley fair below and the river in which its life was swallowed up. She sat down by the spring, she followed the rivulet's course with her eye, and she meditated on that of which the run- ning brook is the frequent emblem--Life. Smiling and placid in infancy, like the spring, disturbed only by its own bubblings; cheery amnd frolicsome in childhood, like the leap- ing, singing rivulet; flowing with stronger tide, and becom- ing addicted to some practical purpose, study or work, in youth, as when the brook tarried awhile under the 'useful shade of the tannery willows; growing broad, calm and deep on the eve of life's cares; as the brpok widened into the pond; rushing earnestly onward, buffeted and buffeting, as the waters poured over the dam, whirled the mill-wheel, and foamed away in the turmoil below; passing now quietly through the experience of usefulness, enjoyment, or suffering, after the first conflict with the world, as the stream wander- ed softly through the valley; and swallowed up silently at last in the grave, as the stream in the river. "Oh, silvery streamlet of the fields, That flowest full and free l For thee the rains of spring return, The summer dews for thee; And when thy latest blossoms die In autumn's chilly showers, The winter fountains-gush for thee, Till MaLy brings back the flowers. SUNLIGHT AND SIIOWERS. 183 O"Oh, stream of Life! the violet springs But once beside tly bed; But one brief summer, on thy path, The dews of heaven are shed: Thy parent fountains shrink away, Anid close their crystal veins, And where thy glittering current flowed, The dust alone remains." There was a step behind her. She turned; it was Perry Seymour. .ie did not come often to Truro, and he was there now only for the night. Impatient of her absence, he had so uglht and found lldr, happily, at one of their old and favorite haunts. The first beaming smiles passed lquickly away, for she had to tell, and he to learn, the sad story that filled Cedarville with sorrow. Tears were flowing from both theli eyes when' she ended. And when they ceased to flow, they stood long ia silent thought, gazing down upon the village, where the shepherd had been taken from the flock. The clouds vailed the sky and the landscape wore a pensive air. The church where he had preached lay in shadow, and the shadow deepened among the trees that shrouded the melancholy parsonage. No sound of labor was heard. The grief of the flock for the loss of the shepherd was expressed in a Sabbath silence. "Perry, I was thinking of you," said Helen, at last. "Were you, Nellie ;" a pleased smile lighted up his face. "Yes, I was thinking my hopes for you." ' What were they? Think them again aloud." "Perhaps you will not like them. They were for no great and grand things; no splendid achievements, no, not even for a career of conspicuous glory in the Church of Christ." "What were they?" be asked again. page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] 184 S -PI RI TU AL IUS BANDRY. "That you might lead just such a life of holy simplicity, unobtrusive fidelity, and real, lasting, blessed usefulness, as dear Mr. Poole has ended now." "Would such a life content you, Nellie? you who are so full of mirth and energy?'" he asked. "Joy and activity might be i'n it, too," she answered. "And if such a life were mine, would you be willing to. share it with me i," he asked, earnestly. "Yes, indeed," she answered, quickly and warmly. But it was as a loving sister would answer, and the bright glow on his cheek and the gleam in his eye were answered only by the simple, childlike interest and pride and confidence in i him that she had ever felt and always manifested. "What is that?" asked Nellie, as a rumbling like thun- der was heard over the mountain top. They turned and looked, a black cloud was slowly rolling over' their heads. , "Quick, or we shall be dre ched," cied Perry, and away i they flew, hand in hand, dowli the mountain to the safe pro- tection of the house. Was that dark cloud a premonition of evil rolling heavily onward, to envelop those young hearts in its gloom If so, may the emblem hold true; for they reached the house in safety before the shower descended: they were only threat- ened, not hurt. - I . [, XX. te (EMns ft Df nsoh llale tt e fl istip 3Win' . "We can not keep A breed of reasoners like a flock of sheep; For they, so far from following as we lead, Make that a cause why they will not proceed. Man will not follow where a rule is' shown, But loves to take a method of his own; Explain the way with all your care and skill, l'his will he quit, if but to prove he will." GEORGEI CRABBE. THE Cedarville people gradually recovered from the shock of Mr. Poole's sudden death. There was little to re- mind them of it during the week, and on Sundays their thoughts were distracted between rival candidates for the vacant pastorship. Mrs. Poole's quiet face no longer appeal- ed to their sympathy, for she Ilad forsaken the village to seek once more the home of ler earlier widowhood. "He was an old man ;" "his time had come ;" "he is far better off;" " he could not have lived always ;" were the consolatory aphorisms with which they dismissed the old pastor from their minds, and gavy undivided attention to the choice of a new one. "Young Mr. Graves" was very busy. There was not .a house in the village and few' farm-houses in the parish, at which he did not happen to call. Wherever le went, the praises of the Rev. James Stryker were sounded. " e was just the minister that Cedarville church needed--an extra- page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 186 T'iHE TREES OF LEBANON ordinary young man-so rousing, so zealous, so devoted- theological profissors and Doctors of Divinity spoke highly of him-and he belonged to Cedarville, a native-born, who knew us all, was used to our ways and understood our wants." Thus Mr. Graves inoculated the congregation with his own sentiments. They spread by contagion and inltc- tion. That Mr. Stryker should be called, grew into a poplu- lar desire, and. then assumed the form of fixed determination. 'He should be. After awhile it began to be rumored that Mr. Lee was not in favor of Mr., Stryker. The more timid now decided against Mr. Stryker, and all hesitated. "It would not do, of course," they said, to elect any one whom Mr. Lee op- posed." But Mr. Amos Graves was equal to the emergency. "Would they be governed by Mr. ]Lee? was the church to be subject to aristocratic rule? who should be gratified--the whole congregation without Mr. Lee, or Mr. Lee in spite of the whole congregation?" These arguments were effectual. The timid were driven back to the ranks, and some who had never been favorable to Mr. Stryker, as Steve Ball, black- smith, and Tim Whittaker, tavern-keeper, now, like good democrats, espoused his cause, to prove to the world that they would not be governed by one man, if he was a rich man. Let Mr. Lee go off, if he chose, they could support a minister without his help. A meeting of the congregation was duly called and or- ganized, with a neighboring minister for moderator. The l name of the Rev., James Stryker was put in nomination. Mr. Lee rose and in a mild, courteous speech begged that f the matter should. not be urged at present, as some were not perfectly satisfied[. P y MAKE THE THSTLE KING. 187 Mr. Graves responded in a loud declaamation, in which he had much to say about spiritual religion, the coldness of the church, the necessity of a revival, and the piety and talents of Mr. Stryker, from which subject he launched out into an earnlest exhortation to sinners, in the midst of which the moderator called him to order. George Hughes urged, in a few sensible remarks, the course which Mr. Lee had proposed. Steve Ball, who was opposed to George in politics, fired up as hotly: as ever his forge burned, and bellowed so lustily about the one man power, the rights of the majority, and the silk-stocling gentry who would rule the church as well as the country, that the moderator had to call him to order. Dr. Lowe made a feeble speech, neither on one side nor the other: the Doctor was a friend to every body and hoped every body would be pleased-with him at least. Wm. Hayes, the son of the old deacon (the good deacon had slumbered some years in the grave-yard), moved the in- definite postponement of the whole subject. The notion was indignantly rejected. .The vote was called for arid taken. Mr. Lee, George Hughes and William Hayes alone voted in the negative. Dr. Lowe and Mr. S r.el voted not at all. The rest were strongly in the affirm- ative. Mr. Lee now rose again, and, after a conciliatory and graceful speech, in which he complimented the abilities of hMr. Stryker and disavowed any wish to oppose the majoritty, however he might personally have preferred some other suc- cessor to Mr. Poole-he moved that Mr. Stryker be unan- imouisly declared their pastor elect; which resolution. was page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 THE TREES OF LEBANON unanimously carried, Dr. Lowe's voice being distinctly audi- ble in the affirmative. And thus Jim Stryker, the rude, rough boy, who frightened Nellie Lee more than his ugly dog did, became in due course of time the Rev. James Stry- ker pastor of Cedarville church, of which Miss Helen Lee was a member-but somehow, he never ceased to frighten poor Nellie I Mr. Stryker's settlement was speedily followed by his mar- riage to the schoolmistress of a neighboring village. Some said she had a few years the start of him in life. That, however, was attended with solid advantages, treasured up by shrewdness, economy and industry, against a rainy day, or a wedding-day, as the case might be. Very different was Mrs. Stryker from her meek and gentle predecessor. Young ]r. Graves was delighted with her, and declared that she was, made for a minister's wife. Possibly some of the sick and suffering might miss the soft step, quick hand, and -wholesome smile of dear*Mrs. Poole; but none could complain now that the ,pastor's wife was not active in spiritual matters.. She was all activity.' Her energy first exerted itself in tearing up the shrubbery and lopping off the lower limbs of the trees that shut out the view' of the street from Bedminster parsonage. She made such an entire clear- ance of the impertinent foliage that the eye could sweep tle street, up and down, for half a mile, from every window and 'door on the front or sides of the house. The mutilated trees looked like poor imitations of palms, or like a certain. "Nid, nid noddy, all'head and no-body." Mrs. Stryker wished to see what was going on in the world, i MhAKE .THE THSTLE KING. 189 and would have moved the house itself and planted it plump on the road-side, if she could. Having thus tlinsformed the Bedlminster parsonage into a becoming residence for the pastor who occupied it (houses will grow into the rcsemblance of their occupants), Mrs. Stryker directed her attention to the lchurch. The pretty, antique, round pulpit, redolent with the fiagrant memo- ries of Mr. Poole's sermons, was displaced by a heavy, square, over-huge stage, with a high front, decorated with Grecian moldings, though the church was,' if pointed win- dows and the absence of ornament could make it so, a simple Gothic. She attempted to effect the removal of the venerale4e steeple, and the erection in its stead of a Grecian portico, surmounted by a tower. But this improvement, the united energies of Mr. Lee and George Hughes successfully defeated, and Mrs. Stryker, chagrined, withdrew her atten- tion from the church, before she had destroyed the poplars, and removed the curve from the stone walls, as she origin- ally contemplated. In more strictly spiritual matters Mrs. Stryker was no less indefatigable. At her suggestion a new office was appointed in the Sunday-school, that of female superintendent; and she, of course, was elected to fill it. She not only accepted the position of first dieeretess in the ladies' sewing circle, but discharged its duties over the heads of the other directresses, in much the same way as Napoleon did the First Consulship. She established a female prayer-meeting. She became in every way she could possibly think of, what young Mr. Graves predicted she would be, " a most useful woman." Mrs. Stryker was very popular, too. She was so friendly, free, and sociable; she visited so much, and would come un- page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 TIlE TREES OF LEBANON invited, especially about the time of year when apples were gathered, or cheese presses at work, or at killing; time: and she praised things so--this butter was excellent, that cheese exactly the kind she wanted, those pippins, she must ask Air. Stryler to get some exactly like them, she was uncommonly fond of spare-ribs. Cedarville folk liked Mrs. Stryker amazingly. To be sure there were sometimes sober or wry faces, when Mrs. Stryker's wagon drove off with the rolls of butter, or the chcsess, or the apples, or the dried peachles, or the spare-ribs, that were to have bought Susan a new ribbon for her Sunday hat, or Tlomnas another pair of shoes. But then she was the minister's wifi, and it w-as so kind of her to come, and she was so pleasant. Mrs. Poole never would. come without an invitation, and she was so quiet when she did come. They did n't mean to say but that they liked Mrs. Poole; she was very kind when Susan, was sicJk, and staid a whole week when Thomas broke his leg. But then, Mrs. Poole was n't Mrs. Stryker ; oh, no, that she was int. And they talked themselves into such unbounded admiration of Mrs. Stryker, that they almost wished they had put the eggs in the basket along with the butter, or had placed a hive of honey beside the cheese. Mr. and Mrs. Stryker were duly invited to Truro. Special attentions were bestowed upon them, that unpleasant impres- sions if any existed, arising out of Mr. Lee's opposition to Mr. Stryker's election to the pastorship, might be obliterated. But they were unnecessary. Mr. Stryker could not be less stiff, nor Mrs. Stryker more free and easy, under any possible condition of things. Maria went to bed early-that night with a headache, and MAKE THE THSTLE KING. 191 Nellie found her an hour afterward sobbing over the loss of dear Mr. Poole. Nellie remembered the day by still another token; Prince, the grayhound, died of old age. Honest tears were shed over .him. page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] XXI. Hats S of si4mrttur InXfffl i . "Artist, attend--your brishes and your paint- Produce them, take a chair-now draw a saint. Oh, sorrowful and sad! the streamning tears Channel her cheeks-a Niobe appenars Is this a saint i Throw tints and all a way- True piety is cheerful as the day, Will weep indeed anid heave a pitying glroan Yor others' woes, but smiles upon her own." PERRY Seymour came no more to Truro. Iis vacations were spent in teaching school, that he might spare his mother her share of the expenses of his education. Mr. Joshua Sickles gladly would have borne it all; but Perry, so long as he could help himself, would accept only a certain sum originally agreed upon. To this he was prompted by his innate love of independence, also by the knowledge that a host of beneficiaries, some of them relations too, hung heavily on the skirts of his kind benefactor, and the latter viewed with jealousy any decerption of their prospective pos- sessions. Harry Lee had entered mercantile life. He was no longer the gay and pure-hearted boy who played with Nellie in childhood. The boarding-school mill had turned him out, what it usually turns boys out, a character in which .a little common-place "baddishness" has injured the fine sensibil- PETALS OF C HARACTER UNFOLDING. 193 ities, destroyed the boyish naivete and left it doubtful whether the knowledge and intelligence gained shall be the instrument of ambition, avarice, indolence, or licentiousness. In Harry it took to business, money-making, and bargaining. Nellie, at this period of his life, "was only a girl." Rever- cnce for her sex, the sentiment of brotherly admiration, and the power of appreciation, were all ground out of him by a similar process to thlat by which the bit of oak comes from the machine cut, measured, smoothed, and polished into a bobbin, as like every other bobbin in the basket, as two peas. Nellie lost a brother when Harry became one of the world. Norton Lee was in Germany, buried in science and :metaphysics, at some of its universities, writing long, loving, and interesting, or prosy letters, to his youngest sister, the only one of the famlily, except his father, whom he honored with his correspondence. Rupert was literally a bird of passage, for hle was at home only wlien the birds were, and away at all other times wherever there was sporting, racing, hunting, betting, or whatever might attract his friends of the ringl. Robert and his wife, and Mr and Mrs. GGracie Darling were often at Truro and Charlotte and her family always spent the summer there, save frequent excursions to the springs and sea-shore.- These all regarded Nellie as a child, under the especial care and control of Miss Brown, and to Miss Brown' they left her. They admired her beauty, and agreed among themselves that she would imake a sensation in the world, when she " came out ;" but their interest was too superficial to discover that hers was a loftier, more ennobling beauty than the eye rested on. To her father, Nellie was a child, too, but a child of whom 9 , Sz,.. page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 194 PETALS OF CHARACTRIt U1FOLDING. he was proud. "Pardoln me, this is my y oungest daughter, Helen," and the grave senator, with whom he chanced to be conversing, saluted lle; as " my clear," and turned away his eyes, heavy with lthought and passion, to gaze anew into tle depths of the interrupted discussion. "Mr. Prettyman-- my daughter, Helen," says the father, by way of excuse for beckoning' Helen to him. and putting his arm round her waist. Mr. Prettyman bows exquisitely, manages to change his position to be nearer the daughter, and tries to edge in a compliment to her, while he answers her father's last remark. "This is my youngest daughter, Helen. Do you remember her " ",Yes, sir," and Mr. Langdon Murray gives her an honest shake of the hand, and Nellie who does not remem- ber him, thinkls him :lhandsomle, sensible, aird agreeable. But Nellie was no longer a child, whatever others might think, save in the freshness and joyousness of a child-like heart. The sunlight stili danced upon her hair, dimpled in her cheek, and' brightened in her eye. But there was thought on the brow, and decision on the lips, and a womanly eleo-ance in her cariange, even when sle bounded over the lawn or down the hill, in races with shouting neplews and laughing nieces. The senator found she was no child, when by accident she was drawn into an argument with him ; and, being a widower, he sigrhed to learn that she was only almost sixteen. Mr. Prettyman thought her no child when he ven. tured to write verses on her beauty. And Mr. Langdon Murray liked her over well for a child, though he treated her neither as child nor woman, but nicely adapted his ad- dress to a graceful betweenity. Only one shadow fell on the bright and happy path way PETALS OF CHARAC:TER UNFOLDING. 195 of Helen Lee's life, and thlt was cast from: the once radiant parsonage. Only one shadow; 'but silently and impercep- tibly that 'shadow spread and dai kened. TlLe pastor's influ- ence, unconsciously exerted by himself, unrecognized by those on1 whom it was exerted, was weaving the dark threads into a warp that was made of sunbeams. Socially separated by uncongenial elements, the pastor and his wife never could blend into the intimnacies of the family of Truro; yet the shadow from the parsonage stretched across the gulf which seemed to lie between, and enshrouded Truro in its gloom. Neither party knew it. The perfect politeness, the stud- ied respect of a well-bred family toward one who stood in the relation of a pastor concealed frolm both parties the ex- act nature of their sentiments toward each other. The Lees did not reason about it; there was. no attractiveness in the sulbject. The Strykers had not the fine sensibilities to detect the want of affinity, or feel the absence of love and hearti- ness in the invariable attention with which they were enter- tained at Truro. Their visits were' none the less frequent; nor did they ever conceive that the presents they carried home with them were extorted by their own hints, or ex- pressions of admiration, and were not the free, prompt, gen- erous gifts of loving parishioners, They dreamed, not that Mr. Lee was indifferent to them, that Maria shrunk from them with i'nstinctive aversion, that Helen struggled to con- quer dislike into charitable judgment or at least Christian sufterance, that Miss Brown regarded them with positive, perhaps, undeserved contempt, that Mrs. Lee, incapable of any very decided feeling, was conscious only of an uncomfortable, undefinable sense of timidity iii their presence, and that the page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] 196 PETALS OF CHARACTER UNFOLDING. gay visitors at Truro staredl at the parson and his wife, and tried to say witty and did say funny and cutting things at their expense. They were still sitting at the breakfast-table' one morn- ing, when a note was handed to Helen. She opened and read it. "Mother," she said, "M'. and Mrs. Stryker will spend the afternoon and take tea with us, if we are disengaged." "Whew-," came from Rupert's side of the table, and the enunciator immediately withdrew, nor was visible again through the day. "Hem!" a polite, elegant " hem," just audible, and just sufficient to afford time for obtaining full command of the facial muscles of expression, was the exclamation at Miss Brown's corner of the table. Mr. Lee becalme at once deeply absorbed in his newspaper.. Maria complained of a little head-ache. dMrs. Lee was the only one to speak. 'Tell Mrs. Stryker, Helen, we shall be glad to see them. John," she added (Mr. and Mrs. Stryker had arrived before the dessert was removed at their last visit), tell the cook to give us dinner an hour earlier to-day." "Yes, ma'am." John disappeared, and in a few moments returned again to break the silence that had been uninterrupted save by the jingle of Nellie's knifie, with which she was playing to her thoughts on the plate. "Cook wants to know, ma'am, if she shall make some of the' muffins, Mr. Poole was so fond of ." "No!" exclaimed Nellie, emphatically. PETALS OF CHARACTER 'UNFOLDING. 197 "Or if she shall have a cup of chocolate ready when they come, such as Mrs. Poole-- "No!" said Nellie again, interrupting him. "Ask the cook," she added, speaking more gently, " to make any thing she chooses except muffins and chocolate." "Yes, Miss Helen." And the man retired again. Nellie's knife was still now. For some moments all were plunged in deep thought. ",How moping we are this morning," exclaimed Nellie. "Come, Maria, let's pick some flowers to cleer up the oak room a little: and then we 'll have some music." 'With a languid step Malia followed her sprightly sister- who was singing, to herself "Angels ever bright and fair." The early dinner was despatched. No word of pleasant expectation, such as once preceded the visits of Mr. and Mrs. Poole, was uttered : nor was, aught said that might be construed into a positive disrelish of the coming visit. Only, all were out of sorts. Even Nellie's cheerfulness lost its in- fectiousness. The dinner over, a dispersion of forces imme- diately ensued. Maria,' who was really an invalid, found it necessary to retire to her own room. Mr. Lee announced an engagement some miles distlant. "He would be home by tea-time. They must excuse hilm to Mr. Stryker and ask that gentleman to amuse himself in the library." Miss Brown disappeared froml the dining-room and shortly reap- peared, bonneted and cloaked. "She would spend the afternoon, she believed, with hMrs. Htugfies. She had long promised them a visit. Mr. and Mrs. HuIlghes were worthy persons. She liked to show thlem some attention. They page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] 198 PETALS OF )CHARACTER UNFOLDING. need not send for her. She would stay for tea: and Mr. Hughes would walk home with her." The forlorn prospect; of entertaining Mr. and Mrs. Stryker, stretched dismally before Nellie, the youngest of the family. She could have excused herself, as a child: but sle thou Lht of her mother. How could she manage a tete-a-tete with the voluble Mrs. Stryker. Nellie gave one little sigh, and( then struck up the air of Cramnbambuli: and courageously determined to enjoy the visit and make the visitors enjoy it, if she could. XXII. Ip tthsB iti nug Iuitlj stt gnle nttims. "ie never greatly carel for the society of what are called good peolple. If any of them were scandalized (and offrnses were sure to rise) he could not help it. When he was remonstrated with for not making more concessions to the feeiings of good people, he would retort by aslking, What one point did these good people ever concede to him."--CHARLES LAMB. THE pastor and his wife came. Mr. Stryker soon found his way to the library, and immersed himself in the depths of the study chair and some new philosophical treatise. "Will you walk. into the green-house?" asked Nellie, by way of beginning the entertainment, so soon, as the lady had removed her cloak and bonnet, and was prepared to be en- tertained. Mrs. Stryker assenled, and surveyed the flowers with that degree of admliration that could be expressed in very com- mon-place exclamations. What she most admired, Nellie picked for hei'. But Mrs. Stryker forgot the flowers in a minute calculation as to the amount of supposititious good the lloney invested in that green-house mioght accomplish if it were giveln to the poor, or to the support of the ministry among the destitute. By the time she hald come to her felic- itous conclusion they had returned to the oak-room, and dis- turbed Mrs. Lee in a tranquil nap. Nellie parried an argument by some inquiry in reference page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] 200 N]ETTLES STING to a certain box of clothing, which the ladies of the sewing circle, under the directresship of Mrs. Stryker, were prepar- ing for some benevolent destination. As Mrs. Stryker an- swered, she produced a roll of red calico ruffling, appertain- ing to said. box, and began to heim and overhand, and gather, with a rapidity of execution only equaled, by her volu- bility. If the sewing was not of the finest quality, neither was the talking. "The cause of benevolence, Miss Helen," she remarked, "is at a very low ebb inl Cedarville." "Ah?" was Helen's interjectional inquiry. "Yes. It is almost impossible to get the people to do their duty in the way of giving." "Indeed?" "Yes. They have not been rightly instructed. Good Mr. Poole did things :in such a hum-drum way. He was not up to the times. 'The state of piety is in a very low con- dition. Dead-and-alive, Mr. Stryker calls it." "I was not aware of the fact." Nellie said, so pertly that Mrs. Stryker looked up from her red ruffling to read the countenance; it was glowing with more than disapproba- tion. "I did not mean to say a word against Mr. Poole, Miss Helen," she said, apologetically. "He was a good man, un- doubtedly, but rather old-fashioned, and, I should judge, de- void of enthusiasm." "Nothing that you- that any one--could say, would prejudice him' in the love and veneration of this family, Mrs. Stryker," answered Nellie, with more warmth than was needful. The manner more than the words, interdicted the subject WITH BEST INTENTIONS. 201 from further conversation. There was a moment of painful silence. Nellie ,reproached herself. Good humor could suffer but an instant's intermission in her nature. 'Would you like some music, Mrs. Stryker 2" she asked, blandly, by way of further entertainment. Mrs. Stryker would like it. "What shall I play? What kind of music do you prefer?" hMrs. Stryker preferred marches. Nellie knew but one. She played that for Mrs. Stryker's gratification, and then .played what she chose, for her own. She quite forgot the I . apresence of Mrs. Stryker, till, in a sudden modulation of the music, that lady's voice became disagreeably apparent, and lest her quiet mother should be forced into conversation, she relinquished the piano for the less attractive society of the pastor's wife. "He is a very bad man," were the first words slh heard. "Surprising," was Mrs. Lee's monosyllabic reply, uttered in a pitiful tone-pitiful to the subject of the remark, or to herself who lhad to hear about him, Nellie a little doubted which. "Who?" asked Nellie, by way of catching the thread of the conversation, while, at the same time, she renewed the threac in her needle. "Mr. Ball, we were speaking of. He is such a bad man," Mrs. Stryker answered, with emphasis on the "bad." Nellie involuntarily jerked the thread out of the needle again. Steve Ball a bad, man! Her favorite, ever since she used to stand and watch the sturdy strokes of his hammer and the sparks from his anvil, when she was a child, and would come home at twilight from Mrs. Hughes'. He was O9 page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 NE TTLES STIN G -always so kind and gentle, too, and treasured upso lovingly the flowers she gave him. lie a bad man! She knew he was rough, and quick-tempered, and hot-headed; but this was not exactly what the expression, "such a bad lman,'" seemed to imply. "In what way is he so bad l" inquired Nellie, as indifier- ently as she could. "He is bitterly opposed to temperance. He says if Mr. Stryker ever preaches on the subject again, as lie did last Sunday, he will not attenld church any more. He is opposed to personal religion, too. He forbade Mr. Stryker's ever speaking to him on the subject. I expect he will die a mise:;able hardened driunkard." "A drunkard! a drunkard!" exclaimed Nellie, with horror. Surely you d(o not mean that he is intemperate?" "Yes I do," was Mrs. Stryker's decided answer. Nellie felt this piece of information too painfully to ask any more questions. Mrs. Stryker did not need to be cate- chized however. She volunteered some further remarks, which showed that Mr. Ball was not wholly given up to the hateful vice, whatever might happen. Hle had takeln too much on the last election day-had been over-noisy at the last wedding in the village; and visited Tim Whittaker's premises once every day, which was just once a day too often. Still Nellie-disposed to palliate, by the partiality of friendships, and to hope, by the law of a sanguine and pure heart-permitted herself to believe that the burly blaclksmith would turn out a sober man yet. "How pretty his daughter Margaret is," said Nellie, by way of diversion. ., - WITH BEST IN TENTIO NS. 203 "Yes, a pretty girl, but very wilc and reckless," was the answer. ellie resolved not to be startled again and remarked quietly that shle had always admired Margaret Ball for her easy, pleasant, good-natured manners. 'She is a kind-hearted girl, I believe," answered Mrs. Stryker; "but-w-hy, Mrs. Lee, what do you think of a young lady, and she too a professor of religion, who would walk up and down the street, with a young man, till eleven j o'O'clock at night?" !It "Might it not depend on whom the young man was ." asked Nellie, answering for her mother, with as much inter- est as she could get up in the subject. "It was not her brother, Miss Helen; nor her cousin; nor any young man who belongs to Cedarville, for I saw them mnyself." ' You must yourself then ha've kept late hours that night," said Nellie, mischievously. Yes, I was up rather late. I don't know exactly how it happened." Nellie thought it best not to iiquire as to the possibility of recognizing persons at the distance of the parsonage from the street, in the night time. Anxious rather to escape more village gossip, she abruptly asked if Mr. Stryker in- tended, in the spring, to give his personal attention to the flowers and shrubbery at Bedminster? "4Oh, no," was the answer. "eie has no taste for orna- mental gardening. If there were a few acres to be farmed, that would be worth while. He thinks now of opening a school in the spring. It would occupy his unemployed time: page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 204 N ETTLES STING and would help, you know, to eke out his salary. Ministers are so poorly paid." "Could he find children enough in the village to make it profitable?" asked Nellie. "There are few who can afford to pay much: and then there is the free school; pa', you know, pays the salary of the teacher there." "Mr. Stryker would not think of'teaching a mere village school," Mrs. Stryker answered, with some contempt. "He designls opening a classical school, a boarding-school?" "Have you room to accommodate boarders?2" "It will be necessary to erect additions to the house. Mr. Stryker has drawn the plans and got estimates. He hopes the congregation will help him in the expense of building : it will be for their good, you know." Nellie did not take in the force of the last observation. She was wondering what addition, large enough for the pro- posed purpose, could be made to the parsonage, that Would not mar its beauty. The subject carried her back to the time when other occupants were the loveliest attractions of sweet Bedminster parsonage. She was recalled at last by hearing the name of Perry Seymour: Mrs. Stryker was speaking of that young gentleman very familiarly and some- what patronizingly. "You know Mr. Seymour, then?"Nellie asked. "Yes. Mr. Stryker's sister, Cynthia, is teaching school in the town where he is pursuing his theological studies. We went there on our wedding trip and met-Mr. Seymour several times. He is a great admirer of Cynthia. Indeed, it will, without doubt, be a match." This was too much. Nellie could hardly restrain some expression of the absurd ludicrousness of any such supposi- WITH BEST INTENTIONS. 205 tion. Laugh at it she must somewhere-not in Mrs. Stry- ker's face-and hurrying up stairs, she burst into Maria's room and astonished her with the length 'and merriment of her peals of laughter. "Nellie, Nellie," implored Maria, "do stop. Some one is calling you, do you not hear?" "Calling me?" and Nellie listened. "Surely it is Mrs. Stryker's voice; how queer!" Compelling herself to be sober, Nellie opened the door and both saw and heard Mrs. -Stryker. She was wandering about in the labyrinth of halls; opening door after door, and calling by turns, "Miss Helen," "Helen," "Nellie," "Miss Lee!" Surprise gave Helen the mastery of her risible muscles but not yet certain of her voice, she closed Maria's door and slowly pursued Mrs. Stryker-who was taking a survey of each room and had evidently become interested in her ex- plorations. At the door of one room, she paused longer than usual, and at last went in. It was Norton's and had. an air of comfort peculiar to itself. Nellie, following, found her seated in a large arm chair, deliberately examining the fur- niture and arrangements of the apartment. "Oh!" she said when she saw Nellie. "I have been, looking for you. Your mother said you were going to Maria's room. I wanted to see your sister, and followed you: but you went so fast. What an immense house this is! I had no idea of its size. I am afraid you study here too much your worldly comfort." "Is that wrong?" asked Nellie, rather for the want of something to say, than for a care to receive instruction. "If we must not love the world, nor the things of the page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 NETTLES STIN G world," said Mrs. Striyer, ",we should not'surround our- selves with worldly comforts, lest we fall into a snare." "May we not trust G(od to guard us from temptation?" "What, my dear '? "Would God give us comforts, if He did not mean us to enjoy them; and is it grateful to refuse to enjoy to the full the blessings which lie bestows?." God, my dear, may try us to see whether we love Him or the world better. To deny ourselves and take up the. cross; to sell all that we have, and give to the poor; these are our duties." Are these commands absolute?" ' What?" "Where would you draw the line betw;een asceticism and a proper degree of worldly enjoyment?" Mrs. Stryker still did not comprehend the question, and Nellie, seeing her puzzled look, took the answer upon her- self. "Our Lord Jesus Christ came eating and drinking, and men said he had a devil. This shows us that extraordinary abstinence is not essential to the highest virtue; and that men's judgment of our course of life is apt to be erroh- eous. At least our Lord Himself is a proof-that a man, without neglecting the ordinary customs of life, or refus- ing any good or pleasant thing that Providence may afford, may still be a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Mr. Poole used to say that we should take both the pleasures and troubles God sends gratefully; and God would be sure to send both as we needed them. ' No man hath a velvet cross,' says Samuel Rutherford, ' but the cross is made of that wlhich God will have it. IIowheit, it be no warrant- WITH B EST INTENTIONS. 207 able market to buy a cross. Sure I am, it were better to buy crosses for Christ, than to sell them; howheit neither be allowed to us.' Did you ever read Rutherford's letters?" "No. Was he a minister?" "Yes. Suppose we go down stairs now," said Nellie, after a moment's pause, hoping that Mrs. Stryker's extraor- dinary desire to see Maria had subsided. "Let us first go to your sister's room," said Mrs. Stryker, making a motion to rise. Nellie hesitated.. "I doubt if she feel well enough to see you, Mrs. Stryker." I will not stay long. Your sister is in ill health. We ought to be faithful to her. Do you ever speak to her on the importance of preparation for death?" "Not exactly about that," Nellie answered. "tHow dreadfully you will. feel when she dies," Mrs. Stry- ker responded, reprovingly, rising at the same time with an air of determination that plainly said " she would do her duty." -Nellie w as shocked, and yet oddly inclined to smile. - - sides that she never could look on the dark side of things, there was some ludicrous incongruity, rather felt than seen, between the tenderness and awfulness of the event of deatl, and the matter of fact way in which Mrs. Stryker treated it. That the death of a sister should be so unfbelingly spoken of, and preparation for it treated as a matter of business, and the question of duty in 'reference to it so nicely weighed, was new and savored of a religious levity that might well ex- cite a smile. But Mrs. Stryker was tmakling long strides toward the door. Nellie laid her hand on Mrs. Stryker's arm, asked her to wait one moment, till she should ask J page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] 208 NE TTLES STING Maria if she felt able to receive the visit, and darted lahead, not doubting the compliance with her request, She hurried. to Maria's room, and dlid not observe till she turned to shut the door, that the pastor's wife was closely following her. That determined' lady was already on the threshold and, without waiting for even so much as 'a nod of invitation or permission, she walked directly to the bed on which Maria was reclining. "Miss Maria," she began," I am sorry you are too sick to come down stairs. Lie still, my dear; don't attempt to rise. I felt as if I must come and talk with you a little. We should embrace opportuniities of doing good as we have them. We do not know how soon they will pass away." All this was said as she advanced from the door to the bed. Taking the hand Maria offered, she retained it in her own, and seated herself beside the bed. Maria's welcome was in- distinctly uttered, and she stared at Mrs. Stryker with a be- wildered air, as if uncertain whether she were a part of the dream that had been abruptly terminated by her entrance, or a living reality. "You are sick a great deal," remarked Mrs. Stryker, in her hard, unsympathetic voice. ," Yes," feebly murmured Maria. "You know what sickness is intended for?" Maria's thoughts 'were not yet sufficiently collected for an answer. "It is intended," continued her instructress, "to warn us of death. You must not. shut your eyes to this truth. You know not how short your time is. A person as frail as you are, may be taken off at any moment. Eternity is before WITH BEST INTENTIONS. 209 you. You ought to be thinking about it, and trying to get ready for it." Maria covered her face. "I hope you are not unwilling to converse on this subject, are you?" No answer. "Take care how you harden your heart against God. Perhaps the Spirit is striving' with you now; remember the exhortation, Grieve not the Spirit;' 'Quench not the Holy Ghost.' Do you feel any interest, my dear, in the subject of religion?" Maria looked imploringly to 1elen to answer for her. "Mrs, Stryker," said Helen, "L my sister is not at all in- sensible to, the great truths of religion. But she never can talk freely on these' subjects; and now she is not well, and can not bear much conversaition." "Well, my dear," said Mrs. Stryker, addressing Maria, "I have done my duty as your pastor's wife. Should I never see you again, this will be a comfort to me. I hope, how- ever, that God will spare your life. till you, think and feel rightly, and are ready-for eternity'. I will leave you a tract, if you will accept it; it may be a word in season." Mrs. Stryker produced the tract. Maria murmured a faint "thank you." And Nellie hurried the faithful pastoress down stairs, resolved not to leave her again, lest she might do some more mischief. About this time Mr. Lee returned. After due salutations to the ladies in the oak-room, he sought his pastor in the library. To his apologies, Mr. Stryker answered that he had been deeply interested in the work which he had found on,. the table. page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 210 NETTLES STING "By the by, where did you get it? I see it is imported," Mr. Strvker concluded, "Several copies of it were imported by - " "How much is it?--the price, I mean," interposed Mr. Stryker. ' Five dollars."7 "Ah! Five dollars! .I must go without it then for awhile. We ministers have to learn self-denial, Yet, reathy this is an importaint work. I hardly can dispense 'with it. But I must." Mr. Lee listened to the end, with a smile of ironical mean- ing, and then said, as little warmly'as a generous nature - could, "Accept that copy, sir, I will procure another for my- self." "You are very kind; too kind. And that reminds me that I have an appeal to make to your liberality. I have concluded," and- Mi:. Stryker, while he spoke, opened the book, and reached over for the pen, 'to establish a first- rate classical school " he paused to write upon the fly-leaf in large letters, the name, Jamnes Stryker, Jr., with a customary flourish attacled, such a school is very much needed licre." He paused again, intent on the inscription. "I was not at tall aware that Cedarville needed a first-rate classical school," said Mr. Lee, with quiet satire. "Oh yes, indeed it does," answered Mr. Stryker, abstract- edly, still engaged with his pen, "you know"-and he paused again to embellish the written page with another characteristic flourish. ' There," he exclaimed; at last, "I shall value that book most highly, for your sake, sir ;" and he read aloud the in- WI-TII BEEST INTENTIONS. 211. scription for the gratification, as he honestly, or stupidly sup- posed, of Mr. Lee: JAMES STRYKER. JR., FROM hfIS MOST HGHLY ESTEEMED AND BELOVED FRIEND AND PARISHONER, ROBERT LEE, ESQ., OF TRURO. He was too intently interested and pleased himself, to ob- serve 'the expression of annoyaace on Mr. Lee's face, who secretly resolved never to give another book that might bring his name into such unwonted combinations of esteem and affection. Ther ai th which the book was laid aside, said, "that's safe; and now to business." and Mr. Stryker. squared about and addressed himself to direct action. "Concerning the school, sir; it will be a great advantage to the village."' "Will you find a single pupil for a classical school in the village?" asked Mr. Lee. "You misunderstiand. It is a boarding-school I propose. Hereo, sir, read this draft of a prospectus." Mr. Lee received in silence the paper which Mr. Stryker produced from his pocket, and read, without note or com- ment, a long grandiloquent eulogy on the beauty and health- fulness of Cedarville, and the transcendent excellence of the school which was to be established at the Bedminster parson- age, by the Rev. James Stryker, whose superior abilities and capabilities could be vouched for by some dozen most respect- page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212 NET TLES STI'NG able names; first and foremost of whom was Robert Lee, Esq., of Truro. Without remark, Mr. Lee returned the pros- pectus to Mr. Stryker's hand, at the same moment, rising from his chair, he proposed joining the ladies in the oak- room. "What do you think of my plan?" asked the disappointed pastor, pertinaciously keeping his seat. "It is a matter in which my judgment is of no value. I am not experienced in boarding-schools.' And Mr. Lee walked to the door. "'Wait one minute, if you please, sil," Uirged Mr. Stryker, still keeping his seat, as if to decoy his prey back again. "I shall need some funds for this enterprise. It will be neces- sary to erect an addition to the parsonage; and as the ad- dition will be the properity of the church, and the school will be an advantage to the village, I hope that the people will contribute something to aid the object." Mr. Stryker paused. Mr. Lee, with patience smiling po- litely on his face, remained silent, as if he were not expected to speak.' "May I hope," ventured Mr. Stryker, coming directly to the point, "for a handsome contribution from the liberal owner of Truro?" "No, sir," was the decided answer. What an art there is in saying " no." There is the weak and irresolute monosyllable that invites request anew. The sharp and irritated " no," that may be repented of in a cooler moment. The angry, rude no," n that repels the timid, but does inot conquer the pertinacious beggar. The loud, impe- rious "no," designed to rebuff and silence, and does not always succeed., The gentle insinuating "no," that begs WITI BEST INTENTIONS. 213 you not to insist and not to be offended. The mild, prelim- inaryl" no," that precedes the reasons for refusal, and does not shut out argument, or decline the power of persuasion. And the polite, determined, full, round, clever "no," that leaves you as hopeless as if it were Mont Blanc suddenly rising before you, and yet as unruffled as if it were the sweet- est note of music that had breathed upon your ear. 'You do not think of asking its reasons, and you can not suppose that, any affiont to yourself is meant. The man has merely given you a simple, definite " no." Iis mind is made up; no dis- respect' is intended, no harm is done. Without another word the matter is dismissed, and ever after you are as good friends as if the "no" had never been uttered. This was the kind of'" no" which 'Mr. Lee now spoke, and only the perfect gentleman, like Mr. Lee, can speak it. "No, sir, said Mr. Lee, and immediately led his guest to the oak-room. Arrived there, he devoted himself to the entertainment of Mr. Stryker; and Mr. Stryker never pre- sumed again to speak of his school, and the advantages it was to be to the village of Cedarville. page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] XX III. "Now if a shepherd know not which grass will bane, or which not, how is he fit to be a shepherd?"--GEORGE HERBERT. MRS. HUGHES was sewing. There were tear-drops in her eyes. She heard some one enter the room and did not look round as sle put the inquiry, "George, is that you 1" ' '"Yes." "Nellie has just been here, George. She would like you to call at Truro to see her sister Maria." "To see her sister Maria!" ; "Yes. Not to-day; it is too late': to-morrow afternoon, if you can."9 "To see Miss Marial Lee?" asked George, with increasing surprise. "She is in great distress of mind, George, and Nellie thinks you can comfort and instruct her." "In spiritual distress, Mrs. Iughes?" it was the voice of Mr. Graves tlat asked this question. "Yes," was the startled answer of Mrs. Hughes. "I came in," Mr. Graves explained, in answer to the in- quiring and astonished looks of Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, SPIRITUAL DI ROOP II, S, ETC. 215 "without knocking; I saw you, sir, enter just before me and I thoug'ht your' wife saw me pass the window." "Happy to sea you, sir," said George Hughhes. "I Heard only your last words, Mrs. Hughes, I should like to learn the particulars. How long has Miss Lee been in a state of religious anxiety '" If there was a person to whom she would have preferred not to confide any information on the subject inquired about, that person was Mr. Amos Graves. But it ivas too late. He already knew almost as much as she did. She answered, giving her voice as much carelessness as the subject would allow, tht she had hlr no or ta that siss LQee was in I some distress of mind, under some clouds and darkness as to her spiritual interests. Mi'. Graves expressed unbounded satisfaction. From the pleasure Maria's troubles afforded him, it might be in- ferred that" distress of mind" is a most delectable malady. "This is the beginning of a good wor'k," he said. "The waters are moving. Mr. Stryker's preachngl is taking ef- fect. If professors of religion are only faithful, we shall have a great revival soon. It will not be Mr. Stryker's fault, if we do not." "Will it be his merit if we do?" asked George -Iug'hes. i"No: of course not. Paul may plant, and Apollos water, you know. But ,then God blesses the right imeans, and does not work without them. We must all work, sir, and I have come to ask you to do something for the good cause. Mr. Stryker wishes one of these tracts placed in the hands of every impenitent sinner in the congregation. It's a very alarming, awakening tract. lie wishes them distributed this week, for he intends, to preach on the subject next Sunday, . k k ' ' i,Y page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216 SPIRITUAL DROO PINGS and he Wants sinners prepared to hear as for their lives. Will you aid us in circulating them, Mr. Iughes " First, Mr. Graves, I must read and examine the tract it- sel' Mr. Graves stared. Mr. lHughes answered the stare. "I do not approve of the indiscriminate distribution of all kinds of tracts." Mr. Graves was stunned. To look with suspicion on any thing in the shape of a religious tract; or to doubt whether it were advisable to put any religious tract uwhatever into the hands of any person whomsoever, was a novel and horrible species of skepticism in Mr. Graves' qpprehension. It all grew out of the low state of religion in Cedarville, was the conclusion he came to, on more mature reflection.. But at the moment, he was prepared with no answer-and only re- marked, as he laid the tracts down, that he was sure this tract was well adapted to awaken sinners. Young Mr. Graves went back to the subject of Miss Lee. He was so glad to hear that that gay, volatile, worldly young lady was at last awakened. Mrs. Hughes corrected him. Miss Lee was not gay, vola- tile and worldly: but thoughltful, sedate. and religiously dis- posed. Mr. Graves did not know how accurately the terms he used described the young lady herself. But she belonged to a frivolous and wicked family, which was about the same thing, in his judgment. But, awakened now, he hoped her feelings would become more and more poignant: and he had no doubt it was all owing to the faithful preaching of Mr. Stryker. The last position Mrs. Hughes contested. She thought it UNDER BAD CULTURE. 217 doubtful if Miss Lee, who was delicate, and seldom attended church, had heard Mr. Stryker preach more than two or three times. That was often enough, Mr. Graves urged. But whether awakened by his preaching, or not, dear Mr. Stryker would be delighted to hear that she was awakened, and he must hasten to impart the joyful news to the pastor. Mrs. Hughes would have begged him not to inform Mr. Stryker; but to whom should such information be commu- nicated, if not to the pastor? She hesitated, and Mr. Graves was gone. Pretty Margaret Ball was singing to herself, "If a body meet a body," when she was suddenly brought to a full stop, and nearly to the crying point, by meeting no less formidable a body than young Mr. Graves. "Hum!" said Margaret, to herself. "How do you do'?" said Mr. Graves, aloud, with a sen- sible fluttering about his virgin heart. "Thanik you. Pleasant evening for November," Margaret coldly remarked. "Yes. You are alone, and it is growing late," was the response, suggestive of an escort at hand. "I was alone;" the emphasis said she wished she could say " am." Mr. Graves felt the emphasis, and instead of offering his escort, stammered out something about its being good for Christians to be alone sometimes, that they might meditate. Maigaret's rather embarrassing answer was, "Yes, Mr,. 10 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 218 SPIRITUAL DROOPINGS Graves, I think it is sometimes very good; so, good evening, sir.' Mr. Graves was not quite ready to be dismissed. "One moment, Miss Margaret, if you please," and he laid his hand on her arm to detain her. Miss Maraaret stood still. Mr. Graves kept her waiting; his thoughts would fly off to the pretty green ribbon sh'e had bought in the store, or something else, that fixed his eyes and mind on the in- side of her bonnet. At last he began with due precision and solemnity. "Miss Margaret, we are about to have a great revival here. The woir has already begun. You will rejoice to hear that 'Miss Maria Lee is suffering great agony of mind. "Miss Maria Lee?" exclaimed Margaret. "Yes, Miss Maria Lee. Such is often the case; the worst and most hardened are first awakened in the beginning of a revival." "I hope you do not place Miss Maria in that class!" ex- claimed Margaret, half amused, and more indignant. "Well, not exactly in that class, perhaps; but, we would not have expected the work to begin with her. But it has begun; and we, professors, must now bestir ourselves and try to help it on. Of course you will do what you can, Perhaps you will consent to distribute some of these tracts. Mr. Stryker wishes them circulated among the impenitent and -" "Tracts?'" interrupted Margaret, "What kind of tracts? Is the Dairyman's Daughter among themn?" "No. They are all on the same subject; an alarming, awakening appeal to sinners;- a thunder shout in their ears; a lightning bolt directed at their consciences." Mr. Graves' * * t t UNDER BAD CULTURE. 219 enthusiasm warmed, and his long finger darted the fiery weapons with pointed precision. "Who can tell what des- truction they will do. If you would only give one to your father, Miss Margaret, it might .-" "Thank you, thank you," said Margaret, nervously, as the image of her father's flaming wrath at any such assault, was pictured to her imagination. ' "You must excuse me. I am not fit. I can not. Ask Sarah Hayes, she is just the person --so quiet, gentle, and good. Folks will take any thing from Sarah. Good evening, Mr. Graves." And Margaret tripped away before ie could add a word of persuasion. "How low the state of religion is: what a change the re- vival will make!" thought Mr. Graves, as he resumed his solitary walk to the parsonage: but, somehow, his thoughts were more occupied, during the rest of his walk, with the image of pretty Margaret Ball, than with either the low state of religion, or the prospective benefits of the revival. Oh, the frailty of this human heart! The next morning the family at Truro were surprised by a visit from. Mr. Stryker. He asked for Mrs. Lee; and when she entered the oak-room, he inquired immediately " how Miss Maria was?" "As well as usual, thank you." "I mean in her mind?" "In her mind?" "Yes, ma'am. She is, I understand, under pungent con- victions of sin, asking what she shall do to be saved? Has she found relief?" "'I know nothing of it. Surely, Mr. Stryker, you are mis- taken." Mrs. Lee looked distressed and perplexed. She page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 SPIRITUAL DRO OPINGS pulled the bell-rope and desired the servant to call Miss Helen. Mr. Stryker was the first to catechize that young lady on her appearance, for Mrs. Lee could not yet comprehend the exact occasion of his visit. "I have come, Miss Helen, to have an interview with your sister Maria. I have heard of her concern for her soul-yes," he added, observing Nellie's look of undisguised astonishment. Mr. Graves heard it from Mrs. Hughes and informed me." "How could cousin Hetty 1" ejaculated Nellie. "Helen," asked Mrs. Lee, "what does all this mean?" "It means, ma', only that Maria is depressed in spirits and I spoke to Mrs. Hughes about it, not dreaming that it would go further." "This depression arises from religious feelings?" asked Mr Stryker. "Yes, sir." "I had better see and converse with her, then," he said. "I would advise against it, sir," interlosed Nellie, "she is so very weak and nervous-" "Miss Helen," and. Mr. Stryker assumed an air of severity, so like the reproving glances of the Sunday-school Jim Stryker, in old times, that Nellie found herself smiling at the recollection in spite of her real distress and annoyance, "Miss Helen, beware how you interfere with a pastor in the discharge of his duty. Mrs. Lee," and he turned to the mother, as the higher authority-the act itself was another rebuke to Nellie, as if she were assuming too much-'" have you any objections to: my seeing your daughter?" * . UNDER BAD CULTURE. 221 "Oh, no, of course not: that is, if you think you ought to and if she is willing. Certainly, Helen, my dear, if Mar]a needs religious counsel she ought to receive it from Mr. Stryker." I will tell Maria that Mr. Stryker is here," Helen an- swfered meekly. The pastor was escorted to the sick room. He plied the invalid with questions, which either she did not understand, or could not overcome her natural incommunicativeness to answer. Failing to draw her out, and ascribing her tacitur- nity to to a voluntary cause, he proceeded in hs alarming way to warn her ragainst stifling conviction. Few. were the words of hope and promise he spoke. His very prayer was comfortless. And he left the sick girl in deeper despond- ency than he found her in. George Hughes called in the afternoon: Maria was too ill to see him. Helen explained the reason why she had in- vited his visit, and which, in her hasty call on horse-back at the tannery, the day before, she had not been able to give in detail to Mrs. Hughes. The tender interest in Bible truth which Maria had evinced for a year past: her conscientious regard to all her duties: her earnest seeking after light: her self-distrust: her extreme diffidence in speaking of herself,' even to her sister; and all thel grounds on which rested the hope that she was indeed a child of God-Helen now re- peated to George Hughes. "A few days since," she con- tihled, "Mrs. Stryker paid her a visit, conversed with her and gave her a tract to read. After the visit, and es- pecially after reading the tract, Maria seemed unusually depressed in mind. 'At last in broken words she told me the cause: she feared lest she had sinned away the page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] 222 SPIRITUAL DROOPI:NGS day of grace and resisted the mercy of God till she was given over to unbelief and hardness of heart.; and that that was the reason why no light, peace, hope and joy were im- parted to her in answer to her prayers. For these fears ste gave not a solitary good reason. Weak, nervous and natur- ally disposed to despondency, the tract and Mrs. Stryker's conversation together, had disturbed her mind and agitated her to such a degree that she was ready to believe that she had committed even that most awful sin, a sin of the real nature of which she has not one clear idea." "What was the title of Mrs. Stryker's tract?"Mr. Hughes asked. "' Sin against the Holy Ghost.'" "I feared so." "You know the tract then, and do not approve of it?" "I read it last night. It relates a remarkable case of a man who resisted, resolutely and maliciously resisted, relig- ious impressions, till he became completely insensible to the subject, and after a life of wickedness, was suddenly struck down by death in the just judgment of God." "Yes;" exclaimed Helen, " that is the very one. Dear Mr. Hughes, can it be right to put such a tract into the hands of every body." 'Certainly not, Nellie. To do so 'is like administering the same powerful medicine to every sick person. Some the. medicine would cure; to most it would be death. That tract is exactly adapted to produce the effect on weak minds and sensitive consciences, that it has upon your sister. She needs the Gospel medicine-the free, full, persuasive offers of the blessed Saviour. Oh! that our ministers could oftener ap- ply to themselves the ]Lord's recommendation of Himself UNDER BAD CULTURE. 223 as a teacher: 'Learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in. heart.'" "Indeed," says President Edwards, "something besides terror is to be preached to them whose consciences are awakened. They are to be told that there is a Saviour pro- vided, who is excellent and glorious; who has sled His pre- cious blood for sinners, and is every way sufficient to save them, if they will heartily embrace Him. This is the word of God. Sinners, at the same time that they are told how miserable their case is, should be earnestly invited to come and accept of a Saviour, and yield their hearts unto Him, with all the winning, encouraging arguments, that the gospel affords." page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] rng time let there be light:- little day draws near its close; me fall the shades of night, ight of death, the grave's repose; ,wn my joys, to end my woes, ing time let there be light. ing time there shall be light:- od hath said-' So let it be I 'abt, and anguish take their flight, ory now is risen on-me; Eyes shall his salvation see: ning time, and there'is light." JMr S MONTGOMERY. ,on her way to church, the next Sun- stion pronounced with every shade of ,w does your sister Maria feel now?" find that the subject of village gossip preferred to confine to the confidence must she, so sensitive to remark, suf-. ion of her most sacred feelings! Mr. rdly have prayed more pointedly, and, ately, for her sister, had he mentioned Stryker was addicted to personalities, v often Nellie felt the loss of the ele- of Mr. Poole's devotional spirit. Lee's religious anxiety (repeated till it A FLOWER G A had grown; by exaggerations, distortions, and addenda, into a tale of formidable length and most minute details), aided by the alarming and awakening tract, which had been gen- erously distributed; and, followed by Mr. Stryker's "rous- ing sermon," as Mr. Graves called it, which was a reiteration of the fearful warnings of the tract, produced a deep and powerful impression among the villagers. Before the day was over, there were evidences that others, besides Miss Lee, were "under convictions." Mr. Stryker, therefore, gave no- tice that there would be religious services in the church every evening that week; a prayer-meeting at five o'clock every morning, in the school-house; and a meeting for in- quirers at four o'clock every afternoon, at the parsonage. The revival began then in good earnest, and continued for three weeks. President Edwards says, "The great weakness of the greater part of mankind, in any affair that is new and uncommon, appears in not distilnuishing, but either approv- ing or condeming all in the lump." Avoiding that weak- ness, we shall not, with young Mr. Graves, "approve in the lump,' nor, with Steve Ball, "condemn in the lump," all that was done in that revival, but only aver, that many were added unto the church of such as -should be saved, and many crept in unawares. Night after night, Nellie heard the sharp twang of the church bell ringing the villagers to meeting. The firsthhur- ried, rattling peal, the regular succession of quick, loud strokes of the clapper, the long, sullen vibrations of the slow tolling, and the final bang, with which the sexton announced his .owni satisfaction that the job was over. How familiar did these notes become as .Nellie sat in the sick room of her dlying sister, and how inseparably associated with those EBRED, ETC. 225 page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 220 A FLOWER GATHERED hours of watching was, ever afterward, the sound of'the Ccdarville bell. Why are relations and friends ever blind to the insidious advances of disease, which a proper degree of observation might detect 2 For months the flower had been fading un- der their eyes, and they saw it not, till their fears were aroused by this severe and sudden attack. Then consulta- tions were held, plans proposed, means discussed, that were too tardy by a twelvemonth. They would convey her to Charlotte's plantation in the sunny south; she should go to Cuba; the most eninent medical advice in Europe should be consulted; the balmiest atmosphere of France, Italy, or the Mediterranean isles should, be tried--alas! all too late! neglectful inattention had suffered the uncomplaining invalid to pass the point of possible recovery. Physicians, now vainly called, shook their heads and pronounced no word of hope. For ten days after Mr. Stryker's visit, Maria was in a burning- fever, and either madly delirious, or bewildered in confused wanderings of thought: then the fever subsided; extreme prostration followed, and her mind, never strong or active, seemed incapable of the least exertion. Nellie, the meanwhile, was kept a constant prisoner at the bed-side; her ever cheerful face and voice soothed the patient, when no other could. One Sunday morning Helen sought refreshment and exer- cise in the garden. Maria, after a quiet night, was sleeping and did not need her. It was the third week in November. The fall, late that year, was now rapidly advancing to the embrace of winter. The atmosphere, when she first left the house, felt wet and chilly. A few flowers, which still sur- BY A GENTLE REAPER. 227 vived,pjpoor comfortless things, exhaled a withered odor. Nellie s heart was heavy; and the first look out-doors made it heavier. She thought of Tennyson's sad song and repeat- ed the words to herself. "The air is damp and hushed and close, As a sick man's room when he taketh repose An hour before death; My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves, And the breath Of the fading edges of the box beneath, And the year's last rose. Heavily hangs the broad sun-flower Over its grave i' the earth so chilly; Heavily langs the holly-hock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily." "These," thought Nellie, "are the sentiments of the world that can not look on decay and death without gloom. They are unchristianlike and unfit for a Christian's Sabbath-day musings." She looked toward the hills. The mists were rolling up to their summits and melting away in the light blue sky above them. The sun at that moment came out from behind the one solitary cloud that was visible. The glow of exercise by this time began to animate her. Better and happier thoughts flowed in upon her mind and chased away the foreboding and cheerless feelings which had for a moment oppressed her. Nellie was no mere worshiper of nature. She found "tongues in trees, books in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in every thing ;" but the Bible furnished her with the text and interpretation, and nature afforded only the apt illustrations. Often a worshiper in that temple page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 228 A FLOWER GATHERED which is domed with the skly, she loved still more the place, however humble or unadorned, whether the mountain side, the wooden meeting-house, or the carved, fretted, and costly edifice of stone, where Bible truth was uttered, the Spirit's promised grace poured down in power and demonstration, and a goodly company of Christian hearts joined in the com- munion of saints. In the church of God, she heard Christ's voice, in its plain, practical utterances, the voice of a Sav- iour from sin and death, without which the teachings and suggestions of the sky and sea and earth and air, are myste- rious, incomlprehensible isleading, or unsatisfactory. It was of Christ that she thought now. Of His resurrec- tion, of His ascension to heaven; when the cloud received Him -out of sight, of His coming again in the clouds of heaven, of the bliss and glory that shall follow, and of the best of all promises, that where He is there His people shall be also. "And so shall they ever be with the Lord," she re- peated fo herself. Her heart exulted in the hope. Joyously. she gave utterance to her feelings, and sung, in a voice of uncommon richness and cheeriness of tone, this Sabbath hymn: "'Forever writh the Lord ' Amen; so let it be; Life from the dead is in that word, 'T is immlortality. "Knowing as I am known, How shall I love that word, And oft repeat before the throne, 'Forever with the Lord I' "The trump of final doom Will speak the'self-same word, And heaven's voice thunder through the tomb, 'Forever with the Lord I' BY A GENTLE REAPER. 229 "The tomb shall echo deep That death-awakening sound; The saints shall hear it in their sleep, se And: answer firom the ground. k ,L' "Then upward as they fly, That resurrection-word Shall be their shout of victory, 'Forever with the Lord ' "That resurrection-word, That shout of victory, Once more, 'For ever with the Lord '. Amen; so let it be." Nellie sang only the first stanza alone. As she began the next, a sweet second stole gently in, and a full, soft bass followed. She turned and smiled her recognitions. George and Hetty Hughes had called to inquire after the invalid. The hymn was hardly finished when a message came that Maria asked for her. First escorting George and Hetty to the oak-room, she sought the sick chamber. When Helen looked upon the face of her sick sister, her heart beat with a strange sensation of pain and of pleasure. What meant that change?-that singular sharpening of the features, that unusual intelligence of the eye, that sweet serenity about the mouth? With difficulty Helen com- manded herself, and kissed the face that smiled upon her with an expression so loving, and yet startling. "Who was that singing?" asked Maria. "Mr. Hughes, cousin Hetty, and myself." "It was very pleasant. It seemed to come from-oh, so far away!" Just then the church bell for morning service broke the silence.. page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] 230 A FLO'WER GATHERED "What is that?" asked Maria, with a start. "The bell for church. It is Sunday." "Church-Sunday," the invalid murmured, with half-ap- prehension. "Will Mr.. Poole preach?" "No, my dear sister;"Nellie was weeping now. "Why not?" "Mr. Poole is in heaven, Maria."' She was silent for a, few minutes. Nellie thought she was sleeping. Again she opened her eyes, and spoke now with less languor. v "Strange how bewildered I become. I quite forgot that Mr. Poole was gone. Yet, oh, how often I think about him. Iwas. not afraid of him. I always knew him, you know; and he seemed like one of the family, almost. If I could go to church and hear him preach to- day ; or, if he could only come here and talk and pray with me, would it not be pleasant?' "How would you like Mr. Hughes to core and pray with you??' Helen asked. "I should like it very much. Are you sure he has not gone?" "He is in the oak-room; I will send for himi." "Dear Nellie, let Mrs. Hughes come too, and' you three sing another hymn-here." The same messenger that called Mr. and Mrs. Hughes was directed to summon the other members of the family. One by one they came in. Maria selected the hymn: "Thousands, C0 Lord of Hosts this day, Around Thine altar meet; And tens of thousands throng to pay Their homage at Thy feet. fBY A GENTLE /REAPER. 231 They see Thy power and glory there As I have seen, them too; They read, they hear, they join in prayer, As I was wont to do; They sing Thy deeds, as I have sung, In sweet and solemn lays; Were I among them my glad tongue Might learn new themes of praise. For Thou art in their midst to teach, When on Thy name they call; And Thou has't blessings, Lord, for each, Hast blessings, Lord, for all. I, of such fellowship bereft, In spirit turn to Thee; Oh 1 hast Thou not a blessing left, A blessing, Lord, for me? I may not to Thy courts repair, Yet' here Thou surely art; Lord, consecrate a house of prayer In my .surrender'd heart. To faith reveal the things unseen, To hope the joys untold; Let love, without a vail between, Thy glory now behold." The prayer which followed the hymn was sweet as music, and simple and earnest as a child would have uttered. "How pleasant!" murmured -Maria, after an interval of silence, in which she had lain with closed eyes and clasped hands. "'What is pleasant, Maria 2" asked Nellie. "To think of God-of Jesus-and of Heaven." Then opening her eyes and turning to Mr. Hughes, she said, page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] 232 A FLOWER GATHERED "Please, sir, tell me if there is any thing I ought to do. I can not think for myself. I am rapt as in a sweet dream." George repeated these words. "'Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and open thle door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him and he with Me.' Listen to the summons of the Saviour-perhaps His last. Open your heart and receive Him." "I do. Is that all?" "That is all." "All for such a sinner, Mr. Hughes?" ' 'Behold the Lamb. of God, which taketh away the sins of the world.' 'He that believeth on the Son of God hath eternal life.' What more assurance does the sinner heed, that if he have received Christ into his heart, hle has with Christ pardon, life, and God's blessing forever? Christ is our all and in all." "'All and in all,'" repeated the sick gil. "Yes: I feel it. Thank you, Mr. Hughes, you have done me good." "Dear sister," said Nellie, after Mr. and Mrs. Hughes had quietly left the room--and the tearful family stood gazing on that placid and happy face-" do you know how very ill you are " There was a strugglel-perhaps with a moment's pain at the thought of separation, perhaps with the natural re- luctance to speak freely of ,herself-and then she answered, plaintively but firmly. "Yes, Nellie-yes, father, mother and all, I do. I have been a useless member of the family. I am going where I shall be fitted to serve God night and day. I long for what I never had, the ability to do something-to be of some use." She was interrupted by a sigh. It came from her mother. BY A GENTLE REAPER. 233 "Dear ma'," she said, "you are more useful in your sweet, quiet way, than you think for: and such as we are, dear mother, may be willing to die for Christ, if we can not speak for Him. I love you all," she continued, looking round up- on the others, "but I love the Saviour more. Nellie, do you tell them, when. I am gone, what you know I would like to, if I could. Thank them, Nellie, for their kindness to me: thank father, mother and all: none but Jesus can bless you, dear Nellie, for all the good, only He knows of, that you have done me." After these words she said little. Sometimes she spoke a word, as if in ineditation on some holy subject, or as if she saw in vision the object of the Christian's hope-the Heaven- ly inheritance. But she grew w\eaker and feebler every mo- ment: she slept much: and ere the sun set on the Sabbath 'day, she was 'with the Lord Jesus. i. ^ page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] XXV. Sg4Irt O,5ntz s an Su1g 3amsre. "There is a bad way of wilful swallowing of a temptation and not digesting It, or laying it out of memory witlout any victoriousness of faith; the Lord, who forbids fainting, forbids also despis1ing."-SAM1U7L RnUT.1ErFORD. HTIE first death in a family-how sensitively is it felt; how does it unite hearts, open confidences, strengthen love, give a touching gentleness to every voice, lend pathos to every-even the commonest act of courtesy, and set every nerve of the household circle vibrating at the least provoca- tion with trembling tenderness. The members of the house- hold are subdued into docility, and then, if ever, are willing to listen to the'instructions and consolations of the Christian faith. Then the pastor is regarded as no intruder into-the domestic circle that closes to itself every other avenue of access. The ear is open to his words, the hand returns a warmer pressure to his salutation, and the eye is moistened at his kind and holy solicitude. Let the pastor be himself pos- sessed of the spirit of the'Gospel and his visits to the house, of mourning will produce Gospel fiuits. But no such pastor came to Truro. Stiff; unpliant and coarse, even in his sympathies, the minister of Cedarville could not melt into the transient tenderness of that sorrow- ful home. He was bent on being faithful; he was pertina- "GHT SORROWS, ETC. 235 cious in improving the event of death; and he was almost fierce in his assaults on each separate member of the family. He did not weep with those that wept, but he warned, ex- horted, and lectured them. Robert, Theresa, and Gracie Darling (Mrs. Darling was prevented by sickness from obey- ing the summnons to Truro), stared at the pastor, as if he were a new species of the clerical family. Harry laughed at him; Mrs. Lee felt uncomfortable, Miss Brown indignant, and Nellie sorrowful, in his presence. Mr. Lee waved him off with polite adroitness, and Rupert after one rencounter, ever after turned his back upon hin, not so much as saving his own reputation for gentlemanly deportment. What might not Mr. Poole with his childlike heart and godly sincerity and the needful blessing, have done for Truro, in these first days of sensibility and sadness? But they wore away without improvement. One by one, the members of the family escapled from the transitory influence of the passing shadow; all but Nellie and Mrs. Lee. Nellie could not forget the sister whom she had so long prayed for and 'so recently taken sweet counsel with; and the mother's heart could never recover from its first loss--the loss too of one with vyhose quiet disposition there had ever been an unspoken sympathy. The rest could forget, and did. Mr. Lee returned to his books and his agri- cultural experiments. Rupert renewed his sporting propen- sities. Harry in business, and Robert in pleasure, lost the remembrance of the sad visit to the homestead. And when the summer came, and with it the sisters, and their families, one could hardly recognize a trace of the sorrow which was startled into ephemeral, existence by the intelligence that a sister slept with the dead; and of which, purple flowers and page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] 236 L[ G HT SORROWS lilac trimmings hardly suggested a remembrance, under the guise or disguise of mourning attire. The uncongeniality of the village pastor was felt more and more. The calls of his officious wife upon the visitors at Truro, were sparsely and formally returned. The family pew at church had often now no other occupants than Mrs. Lee and Nellie. Mr. Lee and his other children, and even sen- sible Miss Brown, satisfied their consciences that it was righlt to ride ten miles to hear a minister of replute in the town of Montgomery, rather than one mile to attend a service which did not exactly suit their taste. FGr the sake of sacred casu- istry let us enter a caveat against their decision. Truro was molre than usually gay this summer. There seemed to be a special effort to gather together the liveliest and most. thoughtless visitors. The house was full. Almost daily there were new arrivals and departures, and each ac- cession was celebrated by some new scheme of amusement. Even Mr. Lee was carried away in the flood-tide of gayety. His study was exchanged, of afternoons and evenings, for the bustle of the parlors, and he was ready among the foremost for all excursions to mountain tops, water-falls, or pic-nic val- leys, near and remote.. Nellie wondered at him, and regret- ted her personal loss in the separation which was effected be- tween her father and herself. Nellie fell back into her old place in the household, being left by all, even. her father, to take care of herself as she pleased. No longer a child; though not arrived at the time of" coming out," she began to comprehend her own position and to examine with some curious interest the characters and peculiarities of these brothers and sisters of hers. How different were the motives and aims of their lives fromn her AND HEAVY PLEASURES. 237 own, if indeed they (and this puzzled her) had any motives and aims. They were perpetually busied, to the weariness of mind and body, with what seemed to Nellie the veriest trifles. This was especially true of her two sisters. They were still, as they had ever been, wonderfully alike. Char- lotte Gaylord had the peculiar southern languor of manner, and Emma Darling the erect, self-conscious carriage of the New York belle. Both were elegant women: both showed, and showed too plainly, that they were used to admiration and that they enjoyed it: both made a business of pleasure and consumed themselves with cares and anxieties about dress and nonsense. The taste and richness of their ward- robes Nellie could admire: but how they could spend so lmuch time in the mere getting up of a wardrobe and in talking about it after it was got up, Nellie could only admire about. One day, after listening for a long time to a conver- sation about leghorns, laces, jewelry and Parisian milliners and mantua-malers, interspersed with many names of fashion- able celebrity, in the course of which Nellie learned that one of the sisters had a dozen expensive hats the year pre- vious, and the other an endless number and variety of man- tles, and that neither thought a thousand dollars an extrava- gant price for a real India shawl-Nellie resolved to test the character of their religious sentiments.., "Sister Charlotte," she began, "is your plantation very pretty?" "Yes, my dear, you must come and see it for yourself. I suppose you can not, though, till you are through with Miss Brown." "I should like to see a plantation once. Have you many neighbors?" page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 238 LIGHT SO RROW S "None nearer than three miles, but plenty within ten and twelve miles. We think little of riding twice as far; our southern horses are so perfectly broken, and so easy in their paces. But as we pass a part of our winters in New Orleans and all our summers at the north, a little quietness between whiles on the plantation is not unpleasant." "How near is your church?" "What, the country church? It is about six miles from our place.' I wish it was nearer, it fatigues one to sit through the service after a long ride: I can not attend as often as I would wish." "What kind of a minister have you?" "He is a dear, good man: and so gentlemanly. He often dines with us on Sunday. Mr. Gaylord likes to have him to talk away the afternoon. Sunday is so tedious for gentle- men who are not literary and are too conscientious for cards or gunning." "Has your minister only one service on Sunday ." "He occasionally preaches an afternoon sermon to the servants on some of the plantations." "Our northern ministers preach too much," Mrs. Gracie Darling exclaimed.' '"Dear Mr. Sydney Smith Parsons is quite witty about it. He says they preach down all they preach up." "Is Mr. Sydney Smith Parsons your pastor, sister Emma?" Nellie asked. "Yes, my dear." "Does he visit you often?" "Oh, yes. He attends all my soires, and comes to din- ner whenever he is invited. He declines invitations to large AND HEAVY PLEASURES. 239 parties and balls. -He says the piety of the age is not equal to the holy use of such festivities." "Are his visits like those we used to have at Truro from Mr. Poole?" asked Nellie, with a mischievous twinkle in her eve. "Like Mr. Poole's visits! How many questions you do ask. Of course not. Sui:h visits would not be proper in the city. He did pay me one visit though, very much like dear Mr. Poole's. He happened to call just after Maria's death and found me sick and in deplorable spirits: and he com- forted me so sweetly and' talked so beautifully. He quoted that sentiment of one of the Fathers, I suppose it is, he is very fond of the Fathers. Moderate lanentation is the right, of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.' " "'Seems to me," said Nellie, smiling, "tihe Father that said that, belonged to patristic dramatists and not to patristic theologians." "How much reason we have, to rejoice," interrupted Charlotte, that dear Maria was so devotedly pious." "Devotedly pious," repeated Nellie to herself, reflectively. "Yes, indeed," answered Emma. "Mr. Parsons said that our loss was her gain." Nellie was glad to escape at this point from a conversa- tion she had herself begun: and it was sometime before she could recover her ordinary cheerfulness: it was so sorrowful that two intelligent, baptized women should be so thoroughly unchristian. Nellie was no less a mystery to her two sisters than they were to her. One day, as the two were passing Nellie's room, they were attracted to a closer inspection. It was the little room that opened by a French window over the porch i i page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240 LI G IT SORROWS ?on the southern side of the house. Nellie. used it as a bou- doir and carefully kept the door shut against intruders: but now, unluckily, it was open, and the glimpse afforded was too inviting to be resisted. So the two sisters walked in and seated themselves on. a dimity-covered couch. The little balcony over the porch was covered with flowers: yellow stone-crop and delicate Mexican and Cyprus vines trailed down from the corner posts, and the sides were latticed with sweet briars and honeysuckles in full bloom. Within the room were vases filled with the choicest and most deli- cate plants. Two canaries, presents fromn Mr. Sickles and such as he only could select, hung on either side of the win- dow. A statuette of the Graces adorned one corner; and in another, stood on a marble pedestal a miniature clock, its frame curiously fashioned in the form of a sun-dial. An an- tique cabinet and writing desk, purchased by brother Norton in Italy, stood against the wall near the window, and op- posite to it an exquisite rose-wood book-case. In the middle of the room was a table-on dwhich was a flower-press, a' costly microscope, a case of drawing materials, and various patmphlets: and' by the table a chair, so light that a child could lift it, so comfortable that any one could sleep, in it, and so exquisitely wrought of colored straws that a fairy might have woven it. This last was a present from U cousin Hetty Hughes: Nellie accused her of having stolen it from Queen Mab's bower. The sisters examined the room and its furniture with crit- ical curiosity. "The child. has taste; an eye for elegance and for comfort too," Emma remarked. "Yes, indeed," answered Charlotte. "What a singular AND HEAVY PLEASURES. 241 air of cheerfulness and repose, beauty and utility! just like herself. She is a singular child, Emma, I am afraid a little. eccentric, but she will get over that." "She has beauty," remarked Emma. "Yes, but almost too rosy, and she laughs too much." "What a sensation she will make when' she comes out!" said Emma, rising to examine the library. The .volumes were not numerous. "What a queer collection of books!" she exclaimed. "Bunyan's works, Baxter's, volumes of tracts, Faerie Queene, Shakspeare, George Herbert, Jeremy Taylor, Dickens, Crabbe's tales, Methodist hymns, Wordsworth-" "Here," interrupted Charlotte, who was turning over the pamphlets on the table, "is a pile of missionary journals -and here is another of congressional speeches and de- bates." "And here," replied Emma, "is a whole shelf of mission- ary books, I take them to be. Henry Martyn, Schwartz, Missions in Africa, Sandwich' Islands, India, Mrs. Judson, Brainard, Harriet Newell." "What can the child be doing with them: surely sle can not read them!" said Chalotte languidly, tired at the very thought of such light reading. "They would make her dolorous if she did," answered Emma. "Well," the sister replied, "a little touch of melancholy would become, her. She is far enough from it now?"And both laughing, left'the room. That night, the little desk which had resisted the inquisi- tive fingers of the sisters, was opened by .Nellie herself, and on a new page she made a new entry. "Why am I never so much alone as when surrounded " page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 242 LIGHT SORROWS, ETC. by sisters and brothers Are they indifferent to me, or I to them? Where are the sympathies which should flow freely between us? They are all kind and affectionate; and I must love them and--bear with them. O that He, who maketh His children to differ from the world, would matke them His children! Even dear Iarry--once we thought and felt alike-seems to have grown unlike mne. He is so engrossed with business. Father says he will make a thorough merchant. Is he in the way to lay up treasure above? Dear father! he shuns those pleasant Sunday even- ing talks we used to have. Strange that this year, while Maria's death is fresh in memory, he should' forsake church as he has never done in all his life! Dear, indulgent father. Oh that he-And mother, she seems to like to have me with her in her little room; and she so quiet, and I so noisy. I do long to, be a comfort and happiness to father and mother." XXVI. frsnue U-itnT, }lalnt5 aA utt eebs "Remember well what love and age advise; A quiet rector is a parish prize, . Who in his learning has a decent pride; Who to his people is a gentle guide; Who only hints at failings that be sees;. Who loves his glebe, his patron, and his ease." GEORGE CEABBE. THE tannery in these days was ini the sun-light. George - and Hetty Hugies had more and more reason to believe that they were, as Geo. ge had said, "made for each other." True love and true happiness are never far apart.- George had not attended the chemical lectures in vain. They had been of more practical-service to him than ever Hetty's French lessons had to her. His improvements in the methods of tanning, and his inventions in the ways of dressing leather, had brought wealth into his possession. The "tannery," strictly speaking, was removed from the vicinity of the house, to that of the grist-mill in the valley below, where it was surrounded with tall factories of patent and enameled leather, and quite a village of mechanics' and laborers' dwellings. George persisted in calling his house"T]he Tannery." He loved the asso6iation with the name, and, perhaps, regarded it with that pride with which the self-made man exhibits the page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] 244 SOME THRIVING PLAN'TS, evidences of his once humble estate. The Tannery, neverthe- less, by sundry and tasteful additions, had grown to be the largest and most beautiful residence in the village; and Mr. George Hughes himself was, next to Robert Lee, Esq., the most influential man in the county-rendered so not merely by the power of money, but by the higher power of intelli- gence and integrity. Miss Brown, alone, with all her thorough respect for its inmates, never forgot that there was some condescension in her visits to the Tannery. One only sorrow had fallen on George and Hetty Hughes. Little. George, their second child, was taken from them. But they despised not the chastening of the Lord, nor fainted when they were rebuked of Him; they kissed the rod, and blessed the name of the Lord who gave and who took away. No sorrow can blight the peace and joy of trustful hearts. Little Hetty, their oldest child, was now their only one, and the darling pet of Nellie Lee. All that the mother had been to Nellie, Nellie was to the daughter--her Sabbath- school teacher, her play-mate, her counsellor, and her friend. By Nellie's management, Hietty became her companion ii the Truro school-room. Miss Brown was not averse to the instruction of the new pupil. Nellie became herself a teacher-Hetty's only teacher in drawing and music-and learned much from the quick and thoughtful little scholar. It was an accession to the school-room in which all parties were benefited, and infused vivacity into the routine which had sometimes grown stale and insipid when Nellie was the only learner. Soon after Maria's death, there was still another addition to the school-room. 'Theresa Lee was seized with a sudden longing to re-visit Europe; perhaps, because she could not, AND MORE WEEDS. 245 after so recent an affliction in her husband's family, plunge into the gayeties of the world; and Truro, where she would be expected to spend her summer, always too quiet for her taste, now wore an air of melancholy. However that was, Robert and she sailed away, and left their son Robert and his tutor, Monsieur Maillart, at Truro. There was now a new arrangement of classes and studies. Miss Brown and Nellie became class-mates in the modern languages, and Hetty and Robert in English and French. Miss Brown was the teacher in all English branches, Monsieur confined him- self to the languages, ancient and modern. Never was there a busier and happier school-room, for never were there more willing and interested scholars, and more able and faithful teachers. In her studies, her care of the two children, her rambles with them for pleasure through the woods, her excursions with Mr. and Mrs. Hughes after botanical and geological specimens, in which sciences George had become no indiffer- ent instructor, in her garden, and in her rides on horse-back with Robert or Caesar now for an escort (her father seldom gave her that pleasure), Nellie was independent of the other members of the family for her enjoyment of life. Her only cause for sadness was the growing spirit of irreligion in the household and the comfortlessness of going to church with no one but her mother for a companion in the large empty pew. The Truro pew was not the only one in Cedarville church that showed vacant seats. In old times the church was full at Sunday-morning worship; every body went. Even Tim, Whittaker, tavern-keeper, closed his bar while " church was in ;" and a proud man he was, when he could show some page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] 246 SO ME 'TH VI N G PLANTS, chance stranger, spending Sunday in the village, up the aisle to his own pew, and with the dignified air of a publican take his own seat at the head of it. Steve Ball, the blacksmith, too, always attended divine service, and if he went from the church to the tavern, he never staid there long, and talked, while he did stay, of the sermon. But now the bar was never closed. Tim Whittaker donned his Sunday-suit only at funerals. Steve Ball too often forgot, while the sermon was overlong in the church, that his potations were over many at the tavern. The revival, had not realized every hope the sanguine Graves indulged. The large accession to the number of communicants was not apparent by any extraordinary in- crease of the fruits of godliness in the church, pr in the vil- lage. It is doubtful if there was more vigor in the Christian character of the villagers than in the days of good Mr. Poole, when affairs moved so quietly that Mr. Graves pronounced the church dead, and even the revivals but slumberous awakenings from deeper sleep. But Mr. Graves would have spoken as wisely if he had pronounced the grass dead, be- cause he could not hear it grow. The grass nevertheless, would be fresh and verdant, as was the religious aspect, of Cedarville under the ministrations of Mr. Poole. In old times, there had been a delusive notion that there were in Cedarville no 'arrant scapegraces. Wickedness was not flagrant there. Some singular restraint held in check the passions of the vicious. The very tavern had a good moral character-as good as a tavern could have. It kept methodical hours, and seldom suffered idle loiterers to gar- nish its door-steps. Sometimes, indeed, on election-days for instance, frolics would happen. At such tines, a sad, won- AND MORE WEEDS.. . 247 dering whisper, like the murmuring ripples of the liver that tell tales, of a storm at sea, would steal about the villager tell- ing tales of the tavern, and Mr. Poole would be detected, by curious eyes, on cautious visits to the abodes of certain young men, who would be eyed askance by the whole con- gregation on the next Sunday, and would look very much ashamed of themselves. But matters were not so now. The tavern lost its sedate- ness, and its fiequenters their propriety. Tim Whittaker's premises were haunted, day and night, by a godless set of old covies" and " fast young blades," as they called them- selves. Mr. Stryker called them, with equal propriety, "old sots,". and "young topers." The morality of Cedarville suffered general deterioration. There was more gossiping among the old, and frolicking among the young " folks," than had ever been knoxwn. The staid sobriety and severe simplicity of ancient habits and manners, suffered from the incursion of new modes and a "rage for the last fashions. Ribbons no longer descended from grandmothers to granddaughters, but were bought new by special messengers, at the town of Montgomery, or were supplanted by flowers, feathers, and ornamental appendages, which made the assembled congregation in the church look as gay as a poppy bed. We have no idea of imputing these changes to the fault of the Cedarville minister. There was an influence wanting which once had powerfully pervaded the omnmunity; an in- fluence which Mr. Stryker, however faithful and earnest, never could, under any circumstances, exert; the influence which an humble, patient, gentle, prayerful, affectionate, and tireless pastor alone can exert. * , { * page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248 SOME THRIVING PLA ATS, Mr. Poole's goodness, and unobtrusive fidelity had in- fused his own spirit into the hearts of the people, and were felt every where, and restrained when they did not correct. Mr. Stryker's violent activity only resulted in great and occa- sional disturbances of'the moral forces, and gained for itself no permanent or extensive sway over the hearts and con- sciences of his parishioners. But there was fault in Mr. Stryker, too. He suffered his attention and labors to be distracted from what should have been the one object of his life-the spiritual care of the flock. Other thoughts and anxieties filled his mind. He did not preach fronm house to house, and reprove, rebuke, and exhort with meekness, long-suffering, and doctrine, the individual members of his charge. He satisfied himself with his Sun- day performances, and such extraordinary efforts as seasons of peculiar interest might demand; and, as he became less faithful in private, he grew more severe in public. His ser- m6ns lost the merit of his early compositions, in regard to careful preparation and intellectual ability, and became mere denunciations, sometimes of a character too personal, against the sins and failings of the times. The fact was, Mr. Stryker was engrossed with his school. The eye that perpetually glanced at the pews in the gallery, filled with restless boys, showed where the thoughts of the preacher were. Those boys! how they annoyed Nellie; Restless spirits in church and out of it:; wandering about the village at the very hours when she loved to walk its grass-grown street; scouring the chuntry around, invading even the seclusion of Truro; and despoiling the parsonage of its beauty. The parsonage was indeed changed. The flower-beds had ANb) MORE 'WEEDS. 249 disappeared. Dead trees were not removed; living ones vere trimmed to the peril of life, that 'Mrs. Stryker might "see the world," and that Mr. Stryker's horse and cows might have grass to eat. The grove that once overshadowed the study, was cut dowun to afford the forty boys ("forty thieves" nRpert called theml for they helped themselves to the fruits of all orlchars), a play-ground under the immediate eye of their instructor; no grass could grow there. Behind the naked play-ground, a long, ugly edifice, without so much ornament as a cornice, with two straight rows of windows in its two stories, and one little, unproportioned chimney, at the furthest end, took from the parsonage the last claim to grace and elegance. To look at that school-house, was to see what kind of an education it afforded; an education of tasks and chastisements, of lessons to be learned by rote, and rules tq be obeyed with servility. No greabt thought, no large affection, no generous impulse could be fostered in those board barracks. They were not built with any such view. Were they built in view of aught but Mr. Stryker's purse? This question was none of Nellie Lee's asking. She never thought about it. She could hardly have told how Bedmin- ster parsonage looked now-a-days, for she seldom turned her /eye thiltherward. She preferred watching for the first and last glimpse of the new marble obelisk in the church-yard opposite, tilat towered conspicuously above the time-worn memorials of her grandfathers and grandmothers. "i page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] XXVII. illtage r.4 ste'RAtl all mlY tistrs. "Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, To some good angel leave the rest; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in' last year's nest." H. WN. LONGFELLOW. "ATE in the afternoon of one of the first days of Septem- ber, Helen was returning from a solitary ride; solitary but for Coesar, who trotted at a respectable distance behind her. She had compassed the village by a circuitous route, and entered its one long street at its northern extremity, just beyond the habitation of James Stryker, fashionable boot and shoemaker. The village and the valley below were in the shadow of the western hills, but the sun shone over them upon the glittering bosom of the distant river, and lighted up the mountains beyond the river as with a glow of fire. The play of light and shadow was exquisite; the whole picture was beautiful and suggestive. Had Helen been of a pensive disposition, that twilight view, looking out from surrounding gloom to distant brightness, as if happiness were far off, and sorrow impending, would have made her sad: as it was, it only made her thoughtful. She no longer gave herself up to the enjoyment of her ride, but cantered slowly on through the village, with an observing eye, making mental comme6its ^ ^ VILLAG E. FRIEND S ET C. 251 on all she saw.' The first thing she remarked was, that Mr. James Stryker, fashionable boot and shoemaker, had il- proved the appearance of his house, by a generous coat of white paint, not only on the front, but all around, by a new paling fence, and by a clearing out of rubbish from the little door-yard. Mr. Stryker himself, and also Mrs. Stryker, were just leaving the house with their best attire on: probably they intended a visit to their son. The tavern came next. Loud and coarse laughter issued from the corner room : and a poor ragged inebriate sat on 'the lowermost step of the piazza. Helen put her horse on a brisker amble, and did not draw the rein till she was beyond sight and hearing. Deacon I-ayes' house and farm looked, as ever, the perfection of neatness and good management. William, who was at this moment watering the horses, and Sarah, who was milking the cows with the assistance of some of the men 'and the hired girl, were worthy children of such a father: they bowed pleasantly ii answer to her salutation: but she would rather have had a word of blessing from the old man, who used, at such pleasant hours of the day, to occupy the door-seat, learn- ing on his bone-handled cane, and giving a cheerful word to 'every passer-by. And she thought of the' old Deacon, and tie old pastor with whom he was so intimately associated, till she found herself in front of the Tannery. "What a pretty place," she said to herself. The mountain-ashes were already covered with red berries. Dahas were blooming in profusion. The lemon-trees loaded with fiuit, and japonicas in full flower, lined the wide walk that led up to the house. No member of the family was visible; they were probably at evening prayer: Helen was half-minded to alight and join them-but Caesar might be tired, he was growing old-and page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] 252 VILLAGE FRIENDS, so she cantered on. The little brook murmured the same old song; and only the pretty group of willows showed where the tan-pits used to be. Helen was sure that her horse shyed away from the parsonage, so involuntarily had she twitched the right rein and drawn close up to the church side of the road: but having done so, it 'was but following another impulse to ride round the little semicircle of poplars and pause a moment at the corner of the wall, where she could best see the cluster of old gray stones and the one white obelisk.- The sun came streaming down from an opening in the hills and lit them up with that peculiar soft brilliancy that the slanting ray alone imparts. "Jesus- Heaven," Helen whispered to herself, recalling the last scene in the uneventful life that had ended here. Slowly she pro- ceeded on her way, and had not an eye to observe any thing, till a flitting figure at the gate of Steve Ball's house caught her attention: she was sure it was Margaret Ball ; probably she was looking for her father, and did not care to be seen look- ing for him, either. The black-smithy was deserted; the door open; no merry ring came from the' anvil, no bright sparks flew out from the tottering chimney. Helen sighed to think where he probably was, and tlhit his boisterous laugh had mingled, perhaps, in the shout of coarse merri- ment she had heard from the tavern bar-room: and she sigh- ed to think how nearly Mrs. Stryker's prediction had been verified. O for some kind, strong hand to hold him back from that brink of perdition! The wish fiamed itself (not then in the passing, hasty thought of the moment, but after- ward in the solemn retirement of her own room), into a de- liberate and earnest prayer for the old friend of her child- hood, that God would mercifully save him from the pit of AND UNEXPECTED GUESTS. 253 drunkenness. Mr. Graves' serious bow, as she rode past S]ater's store, conveyed to her a whole homily of pointless commonplaces aimed at awful truths: nevertheless, Mr. Graves' arrows were not all without barbs; they sometimes pierced where more polished steel glanced aside. Kitty White's face appeared at her cottage window, as Helen can- tered by, and returned a gratified bow to her pleasant salute: and Helen tired of the slow gait, put her horse on the run, and was in a trice at the great gate-way. Ctesar who had passed on before her, while she loitered at the church-yard (where another, too, had passed unnoticed before her), had summoned the porter's child to open it. But she did not enter. The stage-coach, announced by the rumbling of its heavy wheels and the cloud of dust that enveloped it, was already in sight, and she waited to see it. She wheeled her horse under the outstretched branches of an elm, and with her hat in her hand, and face radiant with the glow, of recent exercise, she waited' till the. four in hand, now at their highest speed, should appear and vanish. "But who is that, smiling' at her from out a basket full of blue ribbons and flowers? Oh! it was Cynthia Stryker. But who is that waving his Eat on the further side. of the coach . --could it be-?" But the stage was gone. "Cesar, did you observe that gentleman in the stage?" "Was n't it Mr. Seymour, Miss Helen?" "I thought so. I was not sure." "I saw him last spring, when I went with Mr. Lee to York, or I wouldn't know him agin. Oh! Miss Helen, he 'll make a good minister though!" But Helen was cantering as fast as she could and did not answer. page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] 254 V I L L A G E I? R I E N D S - 254 VILLA'GE FRIENDS, "How strange," she thought to herself, as she hurried up stairs, "that Perry did not stop at Truro. I suppose he felt obliged to see Cynthia Stryker home. He ,will be back be- fore I can change my dress." Her wardrobe was simple: but, to-night, it was difficult to ascertain which was the' very nicest of her white dresses: she, too, in such a hurry: Perry might come and she not be ready. The dress determined upon, it took but a miinute to smooth the ringlets that even a horseback canter could not greatly disarrange. With more care, she selected a little bunch of forget-me-nots, (Perry helped her to gather the roots long ago) and fastened them in the inserting neck- band of her dress, the pretty blue stars contrasted with the white neck on which they fell, as sapphires might with ala- baster. But Nellie thought only of the prettiness of the flowers, not of their setting. "Absurd"' she ejaculated to herself, as she hurried down stairs, "how couldA Mrs. Stryker say so! Perry and Cynthia!" She began to laugh, but the remembrance of the time when she was first amused with Mrs. Stryker's remarkable vaticination, checked her merriment now, and she left the thought half finished. Perry was not yet come. She walked down to the stile and looked as far down the road as the deepening darkness would let her. There was no appearance of the young theo- logue. The tinkle of the tea-bell came feebly floating down to her on the dew-damp air: she went back to the house, perpetually saying to herself, "I am so disappointed," "how unaccountable it is!" Tea was over, and the company, which, had been weeded out during the last week of premonitory chilly weather, was gathered in the great parlors, where wood fires diffused a , AND UNEXPECTED GUESTS'. 255 gentle warmth, when, at last, Mr. Perry Seymour was an- nounced. Thougl Nellie'had seen him in the stage-coach a few hours before, she 'was doubtful for a minute, if indeed it were he--so much taller and manlier had he grown-till he smiled, then she was sure. "Perry, my dear boy," exclaimed Mr. Lee," where did you come from?"' "From the parsonage, last, sir." - "The parsonage! What pray took you there? Because you are to be a parson, must you pass by old friends, to bring up at the parsonage?" "Not without an object, sir." "An object! Miss Cynthia is not your object, I hope?" Perry blushed a little, only a very little, as one pair of eyes at least could testify; but he. answered as composedly as before, "It certainly was part of my object to see Miss Cynthia safely in her brother's house." "Part of his object! what I wonder is the other part," said Nellie to herself. Perry extricated his hand from Mr. Lee's and made the circuit of the parlors. At last he obeyed the nods and smiles with which Nellie had been inviting him to a seat by her side. "Oh, Perry, how glad I am to see you. What has kept you so long I had begun. to think that both my eyes and Caesar's were at fault." "How you have grown, Nellie," he replied, evading her question. "You, too. Not grown merely, but changed. It's more than a year since you were here before. Have you had tea?" page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 256 VILLAGE FRIENDS, "Yes." "Here Mr. Lee's voice calling to him, broke off the conver- sation and started Perry from his seat. "Caesar told me," said Mr. Lee, "that he saw you and Miss Cynthia Stryker in the stage-coach; but as you did not make your appearance and verify his statement, I had con- cluded that he was miitaken. Now, please explain yourself. Why are you not in traveling dress And why have you. tarried so long at the parsonage V" "I am not in traveling dress; because I have exchanged dusty clothes for clean ones. I tarried so long at the par- sonage, because Mr. Stryker insisted upon it." "Curt and precise," said Mr. Lee. "If Mr. Stryker had insisted upon keeping you altogetler, you would have sub- mitted to that too, I suppose?" "Not only would, blut have, sir." "Have?-You do not mean--" "That I have consented to return to the parsonage," Perry interrupted, smiling. "That is too bad!"Mr. Leo exclaimed,' and iinmediately disappeared from the room. "What could possess you, Perry, to accept of Mr. Stry- ker's invitation?'"Nellie asked. But before he could answer, Mr. Langdon Murray had slipped into the vacant chair by Nellie's side, and was admiring her forget-me-nots. Helen glanced up at Perry. u"Do you remember when we gathered the roots .' she asked. "Yes, indeed," he answered. But Mr. Langdon Murray broke in with some wise re- mark, about the inability of forgetting some things, and Perry crossed the room to talk to Mrs. Lee. Mr. Murray AND UNEXPECTED GUESTS. 25' was very pertinacious this evening in making himself agree- able to Helen. At other times, if not in the humor of lis- tening to him, she would have availed herself of a child's lib- erty and run out of the room. But now she wished too much to see Perry. She could only see him. Mr. Murray would keep talking to her, and Perry was talking to every body else. At last Mr. Seymour rose to go. ! "Good-night, Perry," said Mr. Lee, with a peculiar smile. "You have the same room as of old. You will find your trunk there. I sent for it. Could not think of the son of my old friend staying any where else; liot-even at the par- sonage." Perry looked surprised, amused, pleased, and serious by turns. Nellie saw only the last look, and wondered what it meant. It wason her lips to say how glad she was, but the serious look checked her; and as Perry retired from the room, she only nodded a pleasant good-night at him. So soon as he was well off, she ran away too. "What does possess Mr. Murray to talk so much to me? He is clever and agreeable enough, but he might find some one else to be clever to." So thinking, Nellie was making her way across the great hall to the stair-case, when she be- came aware that a tall figure was standing motionless near the front door. She turned-looked-advanced a step or two--hesitated-and then-- Oh, Norton!" "Dear Nellie, is that yoiu? I could not make up my mind that it was-you have grown so!" "When did you arrive?" asked Nellie, keeping both arms round his neck. page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 258 VILLAG E FIRIENDB, "Now. Just this moment;- and was wondering how I could make my arrival known without creating too much of a sensation." "I'll manage it," said Nellie, releasing herself from his arms. "Come into the tea-room. I will bring mother and father. We will tell no one else till to-morrow." And, then, rose-bud," said her brother," please order me supper, for I am half-famished. The vessel came to anchor in New York bay at twelve o'clock this noon, and I have sped hither as fast as horses could carry me, without having eaten a morsel since breakfast." Nellie left him in the tea-room, to carry the rest of her plan into execution. The father and mother were success- ively and successfully smuggled into the tea-room; and the hungry traveler was supplied with a suitable quantity and quality of smoking edibles. "And now," said lie, having answered the questions of his parents, as to his health, the passage, and the well-being of Robert and Theresa, whom he had last seen at Berlin, "and now, tell me, who all are here." "Charlotte and Enmma, and their husbands and children, of course," Mr. Lee begun. "And oh, Norton," interrupted Nellie, "Perry Seymour came to-night." "And Mr. -Murray has been here a good many days and nights," said Mr. Lee, with humorsome seriousness. "What Murray? Langdon Murray?" "Yes." "What does he find so attractive here?" "Ask Nellie," was Mr. Lee's answer. AND UNEXPECTED GUE STS. 259 "Nellie!-Take care, rose-bud. Time enough to think about that, if Mr. Murray is rich and handsome." "You' have not touched the surface of his great qualities," answered Nellie, laughingly. "You said Perry Seymour is here," was Norton's next question; " does he persevere in the absurd notion of being a minister?" @ "Yes, indeed he does," answered Helen, with spirit. "Well. If not over-sensible e he may make a sincere minister."' "You are oracular," said Nellie, ironically. "I but pronounced a simple truth," "That no really sensible man can be a sincere minister of the -Gospel?" asked Nellie. "Even so." Nellie looked her indignant answer, which she would not condescend to put into words. "Hlave you forgotten Mr. Poole, Norton?" asked Mrs. Lee, with a'tremulous voice. ' Dear mother, I did forget your presence, and must con- fess that Mr. Poole was a sensible man; and, I must believe, sincere. But he was so childlike, so unskilled in the world, and so little read up in the scientific discoveries and espe- cially Biblical criticism of the day, that the exception in his case should hardly affect the truthfulness of my assertion." "Mr. Poole had more sagacity, worldly knowledge and literary attainments too, than you seem to concede," re- marked Mr. Lee. " I submit," said Norton. "My remark was too sweeping. This rose-bud 'set with little willful thorns,' provoked me into a stronger assertion than was wise." page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260 VILLAGE FRIENDS, ETC. "A rose-bud should never be roughly handled, if you are so very sensitive to its thorns." Norton laughed, and asked if Miss Brown still was chargfed with the training of this particular flower. "'Yes," answered Nellie. "How often I feel thankful to you for Miss Brown." Norton looked gratified. He was now refreshed and rested; and concluded to show himself to the rest of the family, and have the first welcomings over. Witl Nellie leaning on one arm, his mother on the other, and' Mr. Lee acting as usher, he was escorted into the parlor, and took the assembled company amid a storm of exclamations and interrogations. Nellie was happy that night. It was so pleasant to have Perry Seymour and brother Norton both at Truro once more. XXVIII. $Iants MRffl-nmteb t Wren, nn^ly rpr #Wh. "Tho best way to propagate Christianity is to propagate Christians." CIIARLES LAMB. BEAUTY, the new gray-hound, had never had such a race as Nellie gave him the next morning. Perry stood watching her as she came running toward the- house, her cheeks rosy with health and her eye sparkling with exuber- ant spirits. "Prince has a siccessor to your favor, I observe," remark- ed Perry. "'Yes. .1 call him Beauty. Mr. Murray gave him to me." Perry had no further comments to make on Beauty. "Do you know Mr. Murray?" asked Nellie, as they went in to breakfast. "No.' "You will like him. I do." "So do I," said Mr. Murray, who was standing in the door- way. Judging by his pleased look, Mr. Murray never liked himself so much as he did that instant. In the moment's detention, caused by this unexpected renconter, Nellie was left behind with Mr. Murray, who managed to occupy the chair next hers at the breakfast- page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] 262 PLANTS WELL ROOTED, table, while Perry was seated on the other side, and the high coffee-urn was between them. Miss Brown, Norton, and Mr. and Mrs. Lee were the only other members of the family who were presesnt. The rest kept later hours. "How is your mother, Perry?" asked Mr. Lee. "She is very well, sir." "And how is Mr. Sickles?" asked Nellie, stretching her neck to see and be seln; round the coffee-urn "He is very well, too." "You must come up stairs after breakfast, and see his birds," said Nellie. "Has Mr. Sickles intrusted you with 'his' aviary?" in- quired Mr. Murray. "Yes," Nellie answered, laughing, "if two canaries consti- tute an aviary." "What is so remarkable about these two canaries that they are worth a journey up stairs to see them?" Mr. Mur- ray was bent on acquiring information this morning. Mr. Sickles' canaries are not like any others," said Helen. "Are they, Perry?" and she stretched her neck again to get a vis-a-vis. But Perry's eyes and ears were given to Mr. Lee, who was asking after Miss. Van Horne and his brother Albert. "Miss Van Horne enjoys excellent health. Albert is in Europe," was the answer. "Albert in Europe!" exclaimed Mr. Lee. "What in the world took him to Europe?" Legal business, I believe," answered ]Perry, reciprocating the smile, "that happily or unhappily has fallen into his hands. But, sir, I have even more surprising intelligence for you: I myself sail for Europe in the next steamer." TRIED, AND APPROVED. 263 Helen, Miss Brown, and even Mrs. Lee joined in the ex- clamation of surprise, this time; but it was uttered in a tone that indicated pleasure and congratulation. "Yes," continued Perry: ;Mr. Sickles has discovered that important business, which no one but myself can transact, re- quires my immediate transportation over the ocean." "Will you visit Germany?" inquired Mr. Norton Lee. "Mr. Sickles insists upon my doing so." "I must give you letters to some of my friends at the uni- versities." "Thank you." "Ad I will give you letters which may be of use in Eng- land," said Mr. Lee. "If Mr. Seymour will accept of them, from a friend of Mr. Sickles, I can give him a letter or two, to friends in France, and, if he wishes them, in England too!" added Mr. Murray. While Perry's words expressed thanks, his countenance glowed with gratification. The conversation now was all of Europe. Each of the gentlemen had a word of advice. He must not hurry home. They approved of Mr. Sickles' plan, that he should spend a term. at Edinburgh. Mr. Norton Lee thought that he should add to that at least one year at the German universities. Mr. Murray insisted that another year must be given to traveling. Perry, amused at the freedom with which they were taxing the good friend's generosity who was to be at the expense of this European tour, thought it was more probable that his absence would terminate in three months, than be prolonged to three years. As they rose from the breakfast-table, Mr. Murray claimed Nellie's attention till he could finish the account of some , s . . .. page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] 264 PLANTS WE'LL ROOTED. European castle, or church, Nellie could not have told what; seeming to listen, but really watching Perry's movements, she was carried along captive to the door of the oak-room. Then the story came to an end, and with an inteljectional 'indeed! beautiful!'" which left Mr. Murray saying to hiln- self, "she certainly did not hear or understand me," she turned to Perry, who had already taken his hat and seemed meditating his exit. "Perry," she said, "come up stairs and see my canaries and my herbarium." "I can not now,: was the answer. "I am bound to the Parsonage. Good-morning." Nellie -was sorry, and Perry, she thought, looked sorry too. "What carries him. to the parsonage?" she .said to herself. But brother Norton came to the rescue. "May I see that hlarbarium, rose-bud? Canaries I am not partial to." "Yes, indeed you may, brother Norton; and my minerals, too, and you can tell me about some that I can not make out, if you will." In th6 little boudoir Norton had the seat of honor, the corner of the dimity-covered couch. The herbarium was displayed on a table placed for the purpose directly in fiont of him. It was not an extensive collection, but showed care, taste, and more exact knowledge than he was prepared for. The cabinet also, if arranged with too much feminine regard for effect and beauty to please a scientific eye, was still a creditable exposition of the attainment of so young a miner- alogist. Norton volunteered to accompany her on a search for a rare flower, which should then be in bloom. "' When shall we go 2" asked Nellie TRIED AND APPROVED. 265 "To-day, if you please.' "How long do you intend to stay at Truro, brother Norton?" ' " "Only a week, at present." "Then I will ask Miss Brown to excuse :e altogether from the school-room, that I may spend all my time with you and Perry." Perry seems to be as much a friend of yours as ever," was the only comment of her brother on this infornation. "Yes," was the answer. "But I seldom see him now." "Seeens to me, Nellie, you have a good 'many pious sort of riends. Who are those Hughes you so often mentioned in your letters?" "Do you not remember Mrs. Hughes, who used to be my Sunday-school teacher?" "I remember you had a Sunday-school teacher whom you often talked about; but as I never knew that remarkable person,' I certainly do not remember her. But, rose-bud, are these just the kind of friends for you to be so very inti- mate with?" "Why not?" asked Nellie, with some pique. "Mr. Hughes, I think is a tanner and currier?" "Yes." "Anl uneducated man then, of course, and his wife I sup- pose, however pious, an uncultivated woman." "Of course!" repeated Nellie, ironically. "And, of course, every nobleman and titled lady you met, when abroad, was highly educated and elegantly cultivated!" "Your fierce little thorns are of American growth, that is certain," replied Norton. "But you forget that I have spent 12 page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] 266 PLANTS WELL ROOTED, more time in German universities, where many of the great- est scholars are of plebeian rank." "We have no plebeians in America, Brother Norton; though I am sorry to confess that there is some sort of aris- tocracy." ' Well, well, Miss Philosopher, I did not mean to assert, nor controvert principles. As a serious fact, however, I much i fear that tanners and curriers are much too low-minded and f vulgar to be the intimate friends of my delicate rose-bud." Nellie was as red as the veriest rose-bud of the House of Lancaster, at that momnent. "Brother Norton," she began, "am I not-" improved, she was about to say, but stopped ere betrayed into a self- compliment. "A pretty rose-bud," said Norton, finishing the sentence for her. Nellie laughed, and began again. "Brother Norton, are you glad that I have bestowed so much time on the Natural Sciences " l "Very glad." "Would you rather see me interested in botany, and& min- eralogy, and astronomy, and such studies, than in, fussing over worsted-work, or reading novels, and talking non- sense?" "Most certainly, you wise rose-bud." "Well! If Cousin Hetty Hughes, and Mr. Hughes had not incited me to these studies, and given me a taste for them and for other good things, I should have cared and known nothing about them. But for the influence which they have exerted over me, I doubt if I should have improved even with such a teacher as Miss Brown. I sometimes think 1 TRIED AND APPROVED. 26Q owe every thing to them. And' now, Brother Norton, I shall be angry with you as long as you stay here, unless you will go with me now, right away, to see Mr. and Mrs. Hughes and-judge ofthem for yourself." "I will do almost any thing to escape such anger as yours must be, Nellie. But you know I am not fond of visiting-- especially strangers." "Oh, but you will like them." "How do you know that?" "I am sure of it. I feel it. They are of your kind-that is, in some things. You will go?" "If you insist." "Now, right off?" "Yes." "I will tell Miss Brown, and get my bonnet," and Nellie ran away in high glee. Norton left the room at' the same moment, but returned before she did, with his arms full of books, which he depos- ited on the table where the herbarium had been. Then at his leisure he examined the books already in the book-case. "How kind of you! How beautifully bound," exclaimed Nellie, as the literary treasures on the table caught her eye, as she entered the room. She went directly to Norton to kiss him for his present, and then turned to the table to make a closer inspection of its contents. "Schiller and Gothe: .but I do not read German." "You must learn it, then." '"I will, if you say so. But what are these! Oh, Buf- fon! thank you. And here are birds, how exquisite;" and she left the table to give her brother another kiss of grati- tude, for she now knew that the present was as costly as it }, page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] 268 v PLANTS WTELL ROOTED, was valuable. "I knew you would bring me books, but did not expect such a splendid addition 'to my library. Look here, do you see this row?" pointing to the highest shelf in the book-case. "Yes; They look rather childish and nursery-like beside these mature volumes on the lower shelves," You gave me that row, at different times, when I was a little girl. I did not read them then, I liked story-books better. I never should have read them, perhaps, but for those' low-minded, vulgar' friends of mine! Comelet us go. Mr. Hlughes driVes down to his factories at ten, and it is almost that now." As they left the room together, arm in arm, Norton re- marked that he was, pleased with the selection of books in her library, except that he thought the pious element too much predominated. ' Aside from religious belief, Nellie," he said, "I think what may be termed pious writings- mind, I do not say religious, but pious-almnost as injurious to the intellect as trashy novels, or any other sentimental stuff'. "What do you mean by pious as distinguished from re- ligious?"Nellie asked.. "I used the word pious to express the emotional, or senti- mental writings of religious people." "I do wish Brother Norton, you had not such a horrid prejudice to that word ' pious.'" "It is not a mere prejudice against a word, Nellie, but dis- belief of a thing." "Yet, jist now you approved of religious books as distin- guished from pious?" "I did not make my ameaning clear. There are religious 4* ', . ' *-^ 1 : * ' ' TRIED AND APPROVED. 269 works, treatises on religious subjects; which are profound and, however they may mislead faith, indoubtedly strengthen and invigorate the reason. To these I make no objection, in an intellectual point of view-and in this sense only, would I have you understand me. With your religious opinions, dear Nellie, I shall not meddle-if I can help it." Nellie made no reply. "By the by, Nellie," he resumed, "how is it that in this famous library of yours, there are no works on the Evidences of Christianity? Such a stanch believer and advocate of its claims ought to be well read-up in this branch of religious literature." "I hardly know why, Brother Norton, but I never could get interested in any works of that character. They are either appeals to the reader's ignorance, or else long, labored arguments, where there is no need of proof, or refutation: at least where I need no convincing." "How is that, can you believe without proof?" "I do not believe more firmly for arguments; I do not ap- preciate them. I guess I am no logician.' Pa used to say, when I was a child, I never could give a reason for any thng; and so, I think, it is with me now. I believe with- out reason." ' How is that. I thought your mind was better discip- lined.' "Oh, my mind! That is another thing. I was speaking of what we believe with the heart." "You dear little rose-bud, we are as unintelligible to each other as possible. Will you not unfold your petals and let me into theheart of your meaning? You are not a philoso- pher of the inner consciousness school I hope, for that non- page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] 270 PLANTS WELL IOOTED, sense I abominate. I am too sensible, I hope, or prosaic, they would call me, to Ibe captivated by such vagaries. "What are you talking about, Brother Norton?" "Let us begin atgin," he answered, laughingly. "How can you believe without proof?" "I can't, except where there is no need of proof." "And does not Christian doctrine need proof?" "Not for me." "Why, pray, are you exempt from this necessity?" "I hardly know. Only I can not disbelieve it, and so cer- tainly I need no arguments to make me believe it. Brother Norton, I do not want any one, by an elaborate argu- ment, to prove to me that there is such a person as you, or that you love me, or, that you are worthy of my love. Do I?" "I hope not." ' Well, Brother Norton. I need just as little any profound treatises to prove that there is a God, that He loves me, and that He is worthy ot my love. These I know, I feel, and no cold argument could strengthen the conviction; it would only be winding wisps of straw around bars of iron. And so of all the great truths of Christianity. If you press me for the arguments by which I fortify myself in the belief of them, I shall answer you in the words of Pascal, 'Le coeur a ses raisdns, que la raison ne connait pas;' or better yet, in the words of the Bible, "If any man will do His will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God." "Not so poor a logician, after all!" thought Norton. But just then they were passing the Parsonage, and Nellie ex- claimed, "Perhaps we may see Perry!" ?. TRIED AND APPROVED. 271 They did see him. He was walking slowly up the long pathway, toward the house, with Miss Cynthia Stryker. "Perry does not see us; shall I call him?" asked Nor- ton. "No, please not," said Nellie, hurriedly, "I would rather not see Cynthia." "How this place is spoiled!" said Norton. "Yes, indeed!" "Do you like Mr, Stryker?" Nellie deliberated before she answered. She was about to say, "Not so much as I liked Mr. Poole." But she thought this would be an'evasion, and she answered according to the simple truth- "No, I can not say that I do." "Why not?" "Because; as I used to say when a child." "Is he a bad man?" "Is he a good man?" "In that he is not bad." "Enigmatical. Have you no reasons -for likes and dis- likes?" "Brother Norton, I told you that I can not give reasons, do not have reasons. In this case I am especially destitute of them. I just do not feel any particular liking to Mr. Stryker, and that's all!" "What kind of a man is he e?" "A man of intellect and of reading; deficient in sensibility and good breeding. Too little a man of the world; too much a man of business. You will like him, perhaps. He will talk philosophy to you all day, and give you a thousand ; * page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] 272 PLANTS WELL ROOTED, severe arguments for his belief in Christianity. If he can, he will force your faith, but never woo it." "Well! You have given a pretty full exposee of your reasons, after all." By this time they had reached the Tannery. "Whose beautiful residence is this?" asked Norton. "Mr. Hughes'," answered Nellie, with a smile. "Mr. Hughes'! I thought he lived in the old tannery." "This was the old tannery." "Is it possible! Is ]MrVI. Hughes rich?" "They say so. But here is the gentleman himself," she added, in a lower tone. Mr. Hughes was just coming out of the gate (his wagon stood before it in waiting), but returned to the house with the visitors. Plain, simple, intelligent George Hughes, and pretty, sensible, sprightly Hetty Hughes, made a most favor- able impression upoon-Mr. Norton Lee, and from that day grew rapidly into the place in his heart, occupied by few, of particular friends. When they returned to Truro, Perry had not, as they hoped, made his appearance. It would not do to defer their excursion to the woods till a later hour. -They went with- out him. Miss Brown with her little pupils, Robert and Ietty, accompanied them. They had scarcely gone a quarter of a mile, when they heard the pattering of horses' feet behind them. It was Mr. Murray and his servant man, riding at full speed. In a mo- ment he was by their side, having reined in his horse, alighted, thrown the bridle to his servant, and asked permis- sion to join them in their walk, almost before they were aware of his presence. Nellie would rather he had sttlid \ TRIED AND APPROVED. 273 behind, but as he talked to Norton, and not to herself, and talked very sensibly too, she had not much ieason to re- gret it. The day was fine, the air bracing, the conversation enter- taining, and all in the best spirits. The children were hilari- ous, and when nearly home on their return, threw out a general challenge to a race, which was'immediately accepted by Mr. Norton. Nellie would have joined it, too, and prob- ably have won it, but discovered at that moment the loss of an India scarf she had loosened from her throat. She was sure it was not long gone; she would go back and find it; Mr. Murray insisted upon accompanying her. The scarf was found, they returned leisurely to the house, and arrived there about a half hour after the rest of the party, just in time to present themselves at the dinner-table. Mr. Murray made himself very agreeable in that half-hour Walk. At the dinner-table Perry and she were so widely separ- ated that they could not talk together, but as the cdnversa- tion was general, she could hear him talk, and observe that he talked well. The same fiee, unconstrained, heartyway of talling, that always characterized him, was still his; so easy and so like him, that Nellie did not at first detect the un- usual depth of tone in many of his sentiments, and the happy facility of expression with which they were uttered. Helen lingered in the dining-room, after the ladies had withdrawn. Perry's expected visit to Europe was the subject of conversation; it led to the discussion of European politics, and Perry spoke little, but played the interested listener, while Mr. Lee uttered his oracles. The influence of Euro- pean hierarchies on European politics brought out Mr. Mur- ray, and Mr. Lee subsided into a listener; for when Mr. 12' page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] 2'74 PLANTS WELL R OOTED, Murray chose to converse, few men of taste or sense would venture to interrupt. But the subject soon branched off into the state of practical religion among the masses, and the ten- dcncy on religious habits of the popular opinions and prevail- ing philosophies of the day; here Norton was the chief speaker, and the vein of skepticism in which he ever spoke on these subjects, was painfully apparent. Nellie observed with sorrow that her father listened too eagerly to all that Norton said, and when Perry soinetimes ventured an answer, too courteous and full of Christian feeling to be lightly par- ried, Nellie saw that her father looked more annoyed than pleased. Mr. Murray, as the conversation assumed more and more of a religious tone, grew indifferent, and at last lighted a cigar, selected a book, and sought a seat nearer the win- dow; but as he turned to take his seat, he discovered Nellie who all this while hg been unobserved. At once his cigar, his book, and his chair by the window were discarded, and coming back to where she sat, he began talking to her. As she could no longer listen to what most interested her, she soon left the dining-room for. the parlor. Mr. Murray fol- lowed her, but it was not long before she managed to slip away from him, and, with the purpose of resuming her post as a listener, returned to the dining-room and found it de- serted. She went to the library: her father and Norton were there. "Where is Perry 2" she asked. "He has gone again to that parsonage," answered Mr. Lee, with some ill-humor, " he said he was engaged there to tea." Nellie's dissatisfied ' Oh!" at this piece of information did not seem to mean much, but the echo of it kept ringing in ,t-LY-t)L T RED AND APPROVED. 275 her ears for an hour or two afterward and would not let her give undivided attention to any thing she undertook. It was still early in the evening when Perry returned to Truro. There were so many to engage him in conversation, that Nellie found no chance for the one, good, old-fashioned, talk, she had been longing for: she could only listen. "Mr. Seymour, did you ever meet Mr. Sidney Smith Par- sons, Pastor of St. Cruciform Church " asked Mrs. Gracie Darling. "I have not had that pleasure." "I must introduce you, when you return from Europe. It will be such an advantage to you. His manners are so polished. Do you know, I think ministers mingle too little with the world?" she suggested in her blandest way. "With the gay, the fashionable world, you mean, of course?" "Yes. How do you account for it, Mr. Seymour? To me it is inexplicable why the best men should avoid the best society, and that when their mingling in it would be so 'highly beneficial. Now there is dear Mr. Parsons, it is sur- prising how his influence is enhanced by the intimacies he cultivates with the polite circles of the gay world. So often I have heard it said, 'Mr. Parsons is a sensible man. He is a gentleman!' That being 'a gentleman,' Mr. eymourgoes a great way in ministerial influence.", "I think you laid it down as a fact, that ministers gen- erally do not mingle freely with the world?" said Perry in- quiringly. ," Yes." * "The great mass of the best, wisest and most excellent page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] 276 PLANTS WELL ROOTED, ministers have seemed to shrink from intimate associations with the gay and fashionable?" "Yes; it is a pity, but they do," was the answer. "If this be the case, Mrs. Darling, I suspect a fact so uni- versal and well established can only be accounted for on the principle of repellant forces. Something in the nature of things must forbid the commingling of the world and good ministers. I am a strong believer in the doctrine of affini- ties: chemical combinations are not more under their laws than social." "I do hot see how that can be," answered Mrs. Darling. "There is sin every where and ministers must meet it. They visit freely enough among the poor and degraded and see among them more open sin--if that repels them-than they would ever discover in the higher circles." "If they see more," answered Perry, "do you think they feel more? The one may be visibly repulsive, the other they may know to be invisibly insidious and attractive. The one they merely look upon, the other they could not come in contact with without participating in it." "I am not sure that I understand you: but I am sure that ministers indulge very narrow prejudices in these matters. You never will, I hope, Mr. Seymour. You do not 'seem like a minister at all. I: always thought I could tell a min- ister a mile off-and divinity students are 1more intensely ministerial than ministers themselves! But I should never suspect you," (The lady meant to be very complimentary; why did Perry look so grave and disheartened?) "Your trip to. Europe at any rate will liberalize you. If it does not, we must try what Mr. Sidney Smith Parsons can do for you." TRIED, AND APPROVED. 2" The conversation about ministers became general, and led to the discussion of pulpit performances. Many names, dis- tinguished for eloquence, or celebrated for pulpit eccentricity, were mentioned, and many anecdotes were told. "For my part,"' said Norton, when the subject was about exhausted, "I have heard nearly all of the pulpit celebrities i in this country and many in Europe, but I never heard one who, for sound sense, simplicity, earnestness, and propriety of diction and manner, seemed to be more exactly what a preacher ought to be, if he believes the gospel and has faith in his own office, than the old pastor of the church of Cedar- ville, our Mr. Poole!" All had listened with anxious interest to hear who this paragon of ministerial excellence, in the judgment of such a skeptical critic, could possibly be, and when at last the name was mentioned, it produced a sensible impression. "The old pastor of the church of Cedarville, our Mr. Poole" ' who could forget him! Which one did not recall some ten- der and affectionate word which he had spoken or somne affecting incident in which he was an actor. A moment of silence ensued. Mr. Lee, espeoially, seemed moved; and impelled by the recollection of the old pastor's usage, he ex- tended his hand to the large Bible that lay on the table be- side which he sat, and before a word was spoken, requested the young candidate for the ministry to offer up with the family an evening prayer. For ten months the reading of God's word and the voice of prayer, had not been heard by the assembled family of Truro. How powerfully did it revive old associations and carry back every mind and heart to the solemn thoughts which it had been the design of the gayeties of the past sum- ; page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] 278 PLANTS WELL ROOTED, ETC. mer to disperse and obliterate. One short passage from God's word, and one earnest prayer, sent that worldly house- hold to thoughtful pillows that night. Perry announced his intention of leaving by the stage early in the morning, and proceeded to bid all good-by. Warm wishes were uttered for his happy voyage and return. All hearts were turned affectionately toward him that night. Even Norton hesitated to insist onl the delivery of his let- ters, for, as he afterward said, "it was a pity to spoil one, who might, if ignorant of philosophy, grow up into the re- semblance of Mr. Poole." Nellie alone refused to say good-by; promising herself the pleasure of giving him a cup of coffee in the morning. ,/ XXIX. ilutris: ke ipSrog B t6RntWiu (batnas. "This sunny morning, .oger, clhears my blood, An' puts a' nature in ajovial mood. How heartsonle 'tis to see fhe ising plants To hear the birds chirmn o'er their pleasing rants How halesome it's to snuff the cauler air, An' a' the sweets it bears, when void o' care! What ails thee, Roger, then? what gars thee grane Tell me the cause o' thy ill-seasoned pain." ALLAN RAMSAY. Tl was early twilight when Perry caine down stairs, the next morning. The house had a forlorn, cheerless aspect; as seen at that dull, dusky, still, and clilly hour. A glim- ,mer of light from the tea-room gave him some assurance of breakfast, but did not prepare him for the bright vision which broke upon him, when he opened the door a wood fire blazing on the hearth; on the table, lighted candles, a hot breakfast, and fresh flowers exquisitely selected and ar- ranged; but brightest and loveliest of all, Nellie herself pre- siding as the genius of the place. How pleased Perry looked, how happy Nellie! "You have taken too much trouble," he said. "Do you often rise so early?" "I was earlier than usual this morning. But I am always up by this time. Perry! it is so pleasant to have you here! But come, you must eat now and we will talk afterward, or you may lose your breakfast." page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] THE SPRIG OF GE mind you of old times," she said, after :re engrossing duties of preparing his iat his plate was well supplied, " whoen d used to play tea together in your What nice times those were. How ,ch other oftener. I have often longed eased to speak: and after a moment's re going to Europe, because it is for [ am sorry too, for it must be so.long uLo again." )ubt if I stay more than three months :.now, though: Mr. Sickles insists upon iere at least." en!joy it so much." ss many changes," said Perry, thought- her, you go or stay," she answered, and .ogether.. ,up of coffee to be poured out, and then clock and saw that there was no time md shawl were at hand, and tl)iowing while Perry ate his last morsel, to see I. his baggage to the gate. In a few : again, with a basket of fruit and and one little pot in it, a new species ,s, "if it would not trouble Perry to The trees were borne down with the ;ering jewels. The lower branches of , THE SPRIG OF GENTILITY ODOROUS. 281 the maples and lindens fairly laid upon the ground under the heavy pressure, and the solid masses of moist foliage -made the English elms look as if covered with embroidered cloths of silver, green and gold. Large branches of cliry- santhimums, clusters of altheas, and showy dahlias were now set in brilliants. Every thing was bright and dazzlingly beautiful. "What a splendid day !" said Nellie. "Yes," answered Perry. "I ought not to feel happy, when I am going away; but I do! It seems as if dark clouds had broken and tears ware sparkling in the smiles of new-born joys." "Does it ?" asked Nellie, with naivete: her mind was al- most always sunshine. "lave you had any thing to trouble yof lately, Perry?" she asked with earnest sym- pathy. "Yes, something, Nellie--", "How good it is to hear you call me 'Nellie,' again," she interrupted. "I could not call you by any other name than 'Perry,' if I tried; though you are a man now, and almost a minister." Perry looked gratified and laid his hand on the little one that rested on his arm. " But you were going to tell me what troubled you ?" she added, with an expression of concern. "Oh, it is nothing, at least, nothing now. The mere clouding over of a hope that it was foolish, perhaps, ever to entertain, and a fear that the blight had touched a fair flower-" "Please do not talk so poetically," said Nellie, laughingly. "Tell me in plain English what has been the matter." page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 sTTNnRISE: "I must not tell you, Nellie. At least, not now : perhaps never." "Can you not? I am sorry. But you say your trouble is over now?" "It is lightened." "And I can do nothing to make it lighter?" "Yes. To know that you arIe happy and pure in heart will always make any trouble of mine lighter, Nellie." "I believe it, Perry, for it always used to be so. But here we are at the stile and I hear the stage." That stile! They could not sit down upon itl mow, as in the old times, for it was wet with dew and the stage was coming at full speed. "Perry, do you remember how we sat here that day you first told me about your being a Christian and studying for the ministry? How near together that seemed to draw us!" ' Very near, Nellie!" "How puzzled I was at first to know what you meant, and then how sagely, I, a little pert girl, gave you my ad- vice!" "It was very good advice, Nellie, and has been of service, I think. Yet sometimes I doubt-. Did you hear your sister say last night she would never suspect me of being a minister? I did not know whether to tiike it as a rebuke or not." "Why, she meant it as a compliment, Perry, she only referred to the absence of a certain ministerial air, which is disagreeable because any professional mannerism is so. She did not mean that there was any such levity of 'manner as is inconsistent with the idea of a good minister!" SPRIG OF GENTILITY ODOROUS. 283 "Do you think that is all? I do not mean 'all' that she meant: I know what she meant. But all in truth!" "Yes! I am sure of it, Perry!" The stage had already dashed up and stopped to receive its passengers, before these words were spoken. At the same moment. Mr. Murray's voice was heard, shouting "Mr. Seymour, Mr. Seymour." Perry stood with one foot on the step and waited for an explanation of this unexpected sum- mons. Mr. Murray came up, out of breath. "Here," he said, as well as he could, "are the letters I promised you. I neglected writing them 'till last night and liked to have missed giving them to you after all." Nellie looked so' gratified. Perry thanked him, said gpod-by, sprang into the stage and was whirled away. When he glanced back, Mr. Murray and Nellie stood on the stile, in earnest conversation, and Nellie's face was glowing with happiness. They were talking about Perry. Mr. Mur- ray was praising him. On his arrival in New York, Perry was surprised to find his brother Albert at home. He had been there a week. Scarpely had Perry exchanged the first words with him and his mother, when Mr. Sickles' familiar tramp was heard in the hall. The door of the little room burst open, and there was Mr. Sickles, goggles and all. "Bah! what an odor!" he exclaimed; throwing the door wide open and advancing to tie window and opening that. "My deaf Mrs. Seymour you will die if you live in such an atmosphere. All the cosmetics of Paris are here!" " She will die if she live! When did you beconie a Hiber- nian, sir?" page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] 284 SUNRISE: "Why, Perry! where did you come firom?" the goggles were thrown off. "I lope you 'll not catch cold from that window; but since Albert, Esq., has returned, he fills the whole house with' his Parisiail extracts. Have you seen him yet?"Mr. Sickles perversely kept his back to the cor- ner of the sofa where Albert reclined with an air of exquisite indifference. "He is splendidly made up! Iis mustache is blue-black, and his shirts and fiills and cuff, and his coats and vests and pants, and his robes-de-chambre, in innu- merable quantities and of the most superb elegance! He is an honor to the family ; as good as a patent of nobility; for no one but a noblemaln-or a nobleman's valet-ever dressed in such style. Tliie his handkerchiefs!-he brought his mother, generous fellow!-half-a-dozen, with her initials in cypher; but these are nothing to his own-" at this last speech, Albert made a sudden move whch brought Mr. Sickles to the face about. Bless me! Mr. Seymour-you there? I would not have praised you to your face, had I known it." I presume not, sir, as you did not speak to my face." "No, indeed, I could not have been so bold. But 'I must say you are a lucky fellow. How sorry I am, I was not a lawyer. We merchants can not stand such expenses. Now, when I was as young in the counting-room, as Mr. Seymour is at the bar, I lived on four hundred dollars a year: but, I suppose he would think nothing of spending twice that sum in the single item of clothes!" "You have asked me nothing about Truro, Mr. Sickles," said Perry, who had watched for a chance to divert Mr. Sickles from his unworthy victim. "How is that fairy?"And the whole expression of his SPRIG OF GENTILITY ODOROUS. 285 countenance changed, so that Nellie herself would have been confirmed in the opinion she often expressed, that there were two Mr. Sickles. "She is well, happy, beautiful,and good as ever," Perry answered. "And she sent to her old friend this little rose- plant, a new species, which she thinks you will fancy." "Did she? Oh, the witch. What do you suppose, Mrs. Seymour, she expects me to send her in return? Something handsome and that costs money, of course," and Mr. Sickles shook his head at the ilhaginary waste of money. "She expects nothing at all, Mr. Sickles. Iow can you, talk so!' Miss Electa Van Horne's appearance at that moment, ren- dered it unnecessary to take further notice of Mrs. Seymour's simple-hearted protest. , Well, Perry, my boy," said Mr. Sickles7 after Miss Van Horne's greetings were duly concluded, " have you offered yourself? Did you enter into preliminary bonds, as I told you, you must?" "No, sir," he answered, certainly with cheerfulness; but Miss Van Horne turned upon him a look which showed that she was determined to pity him. "No, sir. I presume, I am forestalled. You know Mr. Langdon Murray?" "Langdon Murray! Was he at Truro? and a beau of Nellie's?" "Yes, sir." "Poor Perry, I am afraid it's all up with you!" "I am afraid it is, sir," said Perry, laughing gayly. "If she likes Langdon Murray," said Mr. Sickles, deliber- atively, "I can not find fault with her. He is almost wor- thy-even of her; and that's saying more than I would of. l page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] 286 SUNRISE: any one else but you, Perry. However, she is young. Don't give up heart, my boy. Mrs. Seymour," he added, turning to that lady, '"I shall change .my boarding-house next month, if you allow your sons to bring me any more of these presents, that are expected to be paid back again with interest." "Mr. Sickles," began. Mrs. ,Seymour, with a deprecatory voice. But Mr. Sickles had taken up the flowei-pot, with as gentle care as if it had been Nellie herself, and stalked out of the room, before she could finish the sentence. Perry fol- lowed him. Miss Van Horne was dusting, for the fortieth time that day, the books and furniture, with a silk handkerchief. Each successive article she took up, she dusted with increased ve- hemence and laid down with more noise. The fire was burn- ing in her heart; Mrs. Seymour waited, with a good-natured smile, for the explosion. "Hum!" exclaimed Miss Van Iorne, as she replaced the last china vase on the mantle-piece. She turned to the stand on which the Bible and Hymn- -book of the Reformed Dutch Church lay. These mollified her, perhaps, for when she had carefully adjusted both, she only uttered a long-drawn sighl. "What is the matter, Electa?" asked Mrs. Seymour. There was a repetition of the sigh.' And then as she crossed the room and her eye naturally fell on the portrait of the late Captain Seymour, thelre was a reiteration of the first expressive "Hum!" No one asked again what was the matter, though the dis- agreeable interjection was several times repeated. At last Miss Van Horne came close up to Mrs. Seymour, and while ; n'. - SPRIG OF GENTILITY ODOROUS S 287 busy dusting the next chair, soliloquized to herself, loud enough for Mrs. Seymour to hear- "Another heart's to be broken, through a girl's folly. Women's counsel 's nothing. Electa Van Horne's not worth consulting. Silly girls must have their way. But retribu- tion comes. The mother sufferls in her son, what she-' "Electa!" The voice was so gentle, so meek, so entreat- ing. It would have melted another nature than Miss Van Horne's. It only drew another "Hum!" from her and sent her out of the room. Mrs. Seymour uttered one or two sighs herself, now, as she sat theie in the deepening twilight, and wiped away a tear or two that, strayed down her cheek. Albert lary on the sofa, revolving his own thoughts, too self-interested to have eyes or ears for other people. "Mother," he said at last, "about an office-" "You can not rent one, Albert," said his mother, quickly, "unless it is very much cheaper than the last you occupied. This unfortunate trip of yours to Europe has involved us-" "Mother," inteirupted Albert, "I want to ask you a ques- tion. It is very desirable that I should know what our pros- pects are." "Well?" said Mrs. Seymour mechanically. "Mother, there 's no use of my trying to make any thing out of the law, I 'm convinced of that, though it is proper for the sake of appearances, that I should have an office' and seem to be in business. There 's no use, either, of your try- ing to make any thing out of this boarding-house." "' If you, Albert, spent less-" "' Now, dear mother, don't begin that old story. I am des- perately economical: a young man in my position could not page: 288-289[View Page 288-289] SPRIG OF GENTI !ir mother, what I want to say, is, that get a fortune by marrying.' xclaimed Mrs. Seymour, in fiightened 'e's no use of making a fuss about it. of getting a fortune, there's no use of FIbout it; but if not, why then I must self." ou talk so !" exclaimed Mrs. Seymour, 1o harm in talking. I only want *to , whether. or no you mean to marry ao one, sir,", cried Mrs. Seymour, rising .d then turning to her lazy son who :i the sofa, "were there no other ob- suffer you to supply your extravagance lard earnings," and she left the room; .in that night by any of the family. ieymour's affectionate endurance of her iftlessnes, ceased, and she indignantly too late to rectify. ]imself, had no conception of the pain ietly pursued his own reflections. He after a rich wife. He had heard what :'s beauty. The worldly sister had re- e; but this child-would she not be idsorne tourist just returned from the ie not appear a very Adonis in personal rnel in attire, and a Chesterfield in ac- ]r rustic tastes? Now was his time, while his wardrobe was new, the dreary winter approaching, and lM. Murray and other competitors absent. It was de- sirable too that he should be. away from the city for awhile.; since he could not rent a costly office, and seem to be doing an immense business, it was best that the world either should not know of his return, or should suppose that he was enjoying relaxation after his arduous labors, or, possibly, had no need to increase his fortune. He would go to Truro. page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] XXX. "We fabricate spruce dandy noddies, With souls adapted to their bodies, To wit, so exquisite'y small They might as well have none at all." CI{RISTOrIER C VuSTOC. ON the afternoon of the day on which. Perry left Truro, when Norton was closeted with his father in the library, Helen strolled down to the Tannery. Kitty WYhite, the village dressmaker, entered the gate. just before her. Not caring to encounter Kitty, nor interfere with any business she might have come upon, Nellie passed down the path by the brook, and calme to the green-house : she found the door unfastened and entered. The glass door into the room which was once both kitchen and sitting-room, was Open, and Nellie could hear the voices of Mrs. HughIles and Kitty White. The former was trying on a new dress, and' Kitly, while she pinned and cut and criticised .the dress, was re- peating with faultless fluency all the gossip of the village. Helen listened because she was amused at the tact and volu- bility whi6h could run on with a connected story, whil every other sentence or word had some reference to'the new dress. Soon, however, she began to listen with, another kind of interest. "Have you seen Cinrthy Stryker?-There, t ow does that GENTEEL BEAUX, ETC. 291 feel under the arm now?-I have; saw her yesterday.-Is that too long?- Knew she would bring the fashions with her; Cinthy loves dress if she is so pious.-Shall I take another fold here?-I went straight in without knocking, as I always do, but was dreadful sorry I did. There sat Cinthy at the piano-forte, and such a handsome, tall gentleman standing, and bending over her and talking so earnestly, strumming all the while with one hand on the keys, a little nervous-like I think.--This skirt will not hang good yet.- I would have gone out, if: I could. But Cinthy heard me and turned round. Oh, how she blushed, clear up to the roots of her red hair, till. she was all red. I thought to my- self, you must be dreadfully in love if you admire that red face. There, that's all, Mrs. Hughes. I'1l have it done next week. She introduced him, but I did n't hear what name she called him. I did n't stay long neither. I ex- cused myself and wenit out into the kitchen. Knew Mrs. Stryker 'd tell me all, if there was any thing to tell.-Shall I put two rows of trimming round the sleeves?'" "No; one will be enough." "Where 's my hat? Here it is. But I must tell you first what Mrs. Stryker said." Here Kitty, having assisted Mrs. Hughes in removing the new dress and putting on another, rolled up the new one into a bundle that she could carry conveniently through the street, and put on her own hat and shawl, without pausing in her story, took a seat and proceeded more deliberately. "When I went into the kitchen, there was Mrs. Stryker making pound-cake. 'Making pound-cake in the morning, Mrs. Stryker, and dinner for all them boys to get ' says I. 'Yes,' she says. ' Expect tea company, I guess,' said I. She page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] 292 GENTEEL BEAUX, nodded. 'That gentleman in the parlor ' She nodded again. ' Who is he, Mrs. Stryker ' I asked right out, for she seemed so busy, I was afraid I was n't going to hear. But she wanted to tell, as much as I did to hear;. for she right up and told me all off'. She said the gentleman, for he is a gentleman, was 'Mr. Seymour: that same Perry Sey- mour that used to come to Truro when a boy and he's stay- ing at Truro now. le 's going to be a minister: and he's got an old uncle, or some relative, or other, who's im- mensely rich and 's going to leave himl all his fortune. She said they were n't actually engaged, that she knew of: but seemed to think it would not be very long before they were. Dear, dear! what a strange world.! Just to think of Cinthy Stryker's marrying a fortune, and she so homely! WTish it was Margaret Ball, if it must be either. Shel' mlake a better minister's wife, too, after my way of tlinking, if Cin- thy is so' pious.-But now, please, Mrs. Hughes, I want to see your flowers. May I?" 'Wait a minute," said Mrs. Hulles. Slhe had seen Nellie, at her first entrance, and they had exchanged silent recog- nitions; and now, obeying Nellie's deprecating gestures, she detained Kitty till Nellie could escape. Mrs., Hughes as- sured Kitty White that she did not believe Mr. Seymour'and Miss Stryker would make a match, that the folmer had no rich uncle, but only an old friend of his mother's who was rich and very kind to Mrs. Seymour, but would, probably, leave his fortune to his own relatives; and she begged Kitty not to repeat this foolish story, and Kitty promised that she would not.. "Did you ever hear any thing so absurd as all that non- AND VILLAGE BELLES. 293 sense about Mr. Seymour and Cynthia Stryker!" exclaimed Mrs. Hughes, when she joined Helen in the parlor. "Never!" responded the latter, indignantly. "And yet, ,Cousin Hetty, there is something very queer about it all, too." She told Mrs. Huighes, what Mrs. Stryker had said, a year before; and how Perry had proposed staying at the parson- age instead of at Truro, and how much time he had spent there. "And he did," said Nellie, "seem to have something on his mind that troubled him. He would not tell me what. Poor fellow! what if it should be-but no! it'can not be. It is impossible. The more I think of it, the more sure I /I^ ' feel that Perry never, never could be involved in any sort of difficulty in that quarter. It would be too absurd!" Mrs. Iughes, however, after hearing Nellie's story, could not be so sure, that there was nothing in it. Strange things did happen sometimes. Perry's visit left a good impression at Truro, that did not wear off immediately; not, at least, before' Sunday, for Sun- day morning, Mrs. Lee and Nellie were delighted to find themselves accompanied to church by Mr. Lee and Norton. The Gaylords iand Darlings had left for their respective homes, the day before, and Mr. Murray had suddenly taken his aeparture the day after Perry went. Mr. Stryker preached one of his denunciatory sermons. The village was given up to sin and iniquity, and it was all owing to the sloth of professors of religion. They needed a revival; the fact that there was not a revival state of feeling in the church was evidence of the desperate wickedness of L . , fi page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] 294 GENTEEL BEAUX, the community, and that wickedness was evidence of the need of revival. So he preached in a constantly recurring circle, every circuit round wihich intensified his description of the depravity of Cedarville. " I amn shocked to learn that the village is so dissolute," said Norton, as they drove away from the church. Mr. Lee smiled sardonically. The ladies took no notice of the remark. "I do not understand this revival business'!" broke out Norton, again. "Revive Thy work," is a Bible prayer, said Mrs. Lee, timidly. "Yes, yes! But I mean this system of successive and violent religious paroxysms." "The fact of your not understanding them will never affect the other fact of their actual occurrence," answered Mr. Lee, thoughtfully. Norton 'was silent for-a time, but returned again to the attack. "If these seasons of religious excitements must occur, then there must be also intervals of repose. Why then do those who believe in this system, during these neces- sary intervals, talk as if every thing were going wrong, as Mr. Stryker did this morning? They wish whlat they can not possibly have, what is absurd in the mere statement of it, they wish special seasons of excitement, and they wish these special seasons all'the time. The moment one is passed and the lull comes after the storm, they yield to discouragement and speak language that borders on despair." Norton paused. No one seemed disposed to answer him; but he had talked himself into a talking mood and went on. "They should be contented with one of two things. AND VILLAGE BELLES. 295 ij Either with a quiet, rational, equable state of religious ani- mation, from year to year, in which, if the waves are never tossed by a tempest, neither do they subsidel into a perfect calm: or else, if they will have intense excitements, they l . sshould not despair When the fit passes away, as it must, and is succeeded by apathy and. listlessness. Let them wait in hope, till the gale rises again. Where hurricanes prevail, they have no frequent and gentle rains:: and where the showers fall often and quietly, they seldom. have tempestu- ous storms." "Brother Norton, ]ow interesting the study of physical geography is," rematrkel Helen, by way of diversion. "Yes," answered Norton, somewhat sullenly: crest-fallen that he could not get up an argument. "That matter of the falling of rains ;"Helen continued, ' a map showing the distribution of rain over the surface of the earth gave me quite another idea of the science of geography, i than the mere bounding of states and' natning over capital towns!" Her purpose was effected now. Norton followed her lead and talked of Ritter, Steffens, Humboldt and others, till they reached the house. Before the carriage, from which they alighted, had driven Iaway, a one-horse vehicle was seen approaching by the main avenue. It was a light, jaunty, city-made wagon, without a top, and having but one occupant, a young man with a for- midable -mustache. "It is some visitor, for there is a large trunk on the rack," said Norton. "No visitor would come here Sunday /" said Helen, em- phatically. i' page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] 296 GENTEEL BEAUX, But he was bowing now; waving his hat in the air with extraordinary gyrations, and all recognized, at once, Albert Seymour, Esq. The welcome had as little cordiality in it as the genuine Truro hospitality and sincere regard for Mrs. Seymour would allow. More warmth of feeling was expressed for the poor over-driven horse, who stood panting and foam-covered and would have been foundered but for the instant and skillful care of Casar. "You have been taking a drive, I perceive," remarked Mr. Seymour, glancing round the group, after the first salutations were over. "We have just returned from church," remarked Mr. Lee, gravely. "Ah!" exclaimed the elegant Seymour, twisting his mus- tadhe into its prettiest curl, "how American that sounds! We European travellers quite forget the associa:tion of ideas, when you speak in the same breath of church and Sunday!" This speech sent Nellie into the house, lest the amusement, or disgust she felt (one or other of them), might be depicted on her face. "I have spent some years in Europe," remarked Norton, carelessly, addressing his mother " and have forgotten some associations with the Sabbath, when there, but never, skeptic that I am, forgot that I had a dear mother, nor, I trust, what was due to her sentiments!" How becoming that sudden lighting up of the quiet face was! Unfortunately so, for it proved the occasion of a pro- voking compliment, by which Mr. Seymour sought to extri- cate himself from the implied censure of Mr. Norton Lee. "So youthful and blooming a mother, sir," said Mr. Sey- AND VILLAGE BELLES. 297 mour, with a flourish of his tiny glove, and a bow to the lady, "never could be forgotten." Mrs: Lee's countenance expressed amazement. Norton's said plainly, "what impertinence!" and Mr. Lee carried his away from examination by an immediate retreat into the house. Mr. Seymour, however, had no idea but that he had said a very handsome thing in most approved style, and, in full feather, followed his trunk to his room to make his toilet for dinner. An elaborate toilet it was, and rather out of place at the early and plain dinnet which, according to invariable rule at Truro, was arranged with a view 6f attending church. Mr. Seymour was somewhat chagrined to find that he was likely to spend an afternoon in solitary grandeur with him- self and his fine clothes. Mr. Lee and Norton disappeared, without asking his attendance, as soon as the dinner was despatched. Mrs. Lee, Helen, and Miss' Brown went to church. He had already discovered that his Sunday advent had made an ill impression; though he was not quite sure but that it would do him service, by establishing his reputa- tion as a dashing young man of fashion. IIowever, to make amends for the error and escape from solitude, he would ac- comlpany the ladies. 'They walked to the afternoon service. 'He placed himself beside Helen. She very quietly changed her position, took Miss Brown's arm, and left him to escort her mother. From that moment she never thought of him again any more thian if he had not been of thelparty. But however oblivious Helen was to Albert Seymour, Esq. his presence in the church caused no little sensation in the Cedarville congregation. His vanity did not fail to observe how manv pretty pair. of eyes looked at him, andhow many "' !" l* . page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] 298 GENTE EL BEAUX, ribbons fluttered when he looked at them. Dr. Lowe's pew- ful of daughters, pretty girls, all of them, were especially struck with the elegant and el:.borate Seymour. And he re- turned the compliment by judging MAiss Araininta Lowe the prettiest girl in the church, except Helen Lee. It was not surprising therefore that, when Helen stopped to speak to Araminta, who accidentally happened to be delayed at the church door, Mr. Seymour should by a whisper ask an in- troduction, and, as Helen herself immediately disappeared- accompany Miss Araminta on her way home, and leave her there with an intimation of a speedy call to improve ac- quaintance. But for Miss Araminta Lowe, time would have hung heavily on Mr. Seymour's hands. Life at Truro was dull. Norton left in a day or two. Rupert had gone south, with the Gaylords. Mr. Lee was polite enough, and conversable at meal times anld sometimes for an hour ih the evening: but that was all. Mrs. Lee seldom uttered a word to any one. Miss-Brown ignored his existence. And Nellie, re- garding herself as a child, did not, or would not understand his desire to make himself agreeable to' her. If lie spoke to her, she never laid aside the book she chanced to be read- ing: and if he persevered in talking, she either answered in monosyllables, or would run out of the room. She would not ride with him, nor drive with limn. Never once did she, or any member of the family remark upon his dress, or seem to know that his wardrobe was, extraordinary, though a second large trunk had arrived by stage, the day after his own advent, and he had decorated his person in every sort of fanciful attire, from mering embroidered morning-gowns to the fullest broad-cloth dinner suit, that Parisian fashions AND VILLAGE BELLES. 299 could afford. What Perry could have meant by saying that Langdon Murray was 'a beau of Nellie's,' he did not know; Nellie was incapable of having a beau. She was as unim- pressible as an infant. So Mr. Seymour directed his attentions to Miss Araminta. Every day the hackney horse and wagon, he had brought from New York, was in requisition, and Miss Araminta took every possible drive in the neighborhood of Cedarville, with- out ever seeing distinctly any one object but the exquisite captivating, rich Albert Seymour, Esq., who sat beside her. All this was very pleasing to Albert's vanity, and answered his purpose in the way of lilling time. But it was coming to be a serious matter for Miss Araminta. Dr. Lowe was a prudent man. Mr. Lee, where his ideas of gentlemanly propriety were concerned, was a stern man. Dr. Lowe paid a stealthy visit to Mr. Lee's library and re- ceived plain answers to sundry questions about Albert Sey- mour, Esq. Mr. Lee honored Albert himself with a particu- lar interview in the same library. The idea that he might possibly be captivated by the blooming Araminta afforded the self-esteemed Adonis prodigious amusement, and he protested his innocence of any intentions upon h r hand or heart: whereupon Mr. Lee, on the penalty of forfeiting his favor and friendship, prohibited another visit to the lovely Lowe. Deprived now of every other resource, save that of dress- ing himself and admiring himself, and being ,withal a little shame-faced before Mr. Lee, Albert Seymour, Esq., concluded to decamp from Truro, to return again when the "youngish" daughter should be old and sensible enough to admire her peerless admirer. i. page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] 300 GENT E L BEAUX, Things at Truro fell into their old train. The lonely feel- ing that ensued on the first departure of the summer guests soon passed away and a cheerful tranquillity would have per- vaded the household, but for the unusual dispiritedness of Mr. Lee. He was restless; his ordinary cares lost their rel- ish; he spent less time in his family and more in his li- brary, but his studies made him gloomy and morose. Helen once or twice detected a volume in his hands that she did not like the looks of. She feared that he was seeking relief for a wounded conscience in the opiates of disbelief. But with whatever other result this effort was attended, it did not produce peace of mind. At last he took to politics. For the first time in his life, he became a public speaker alld a constant attendant on all political gatherings. He was much away from home now; he was scarcely a week at Truro at a time. Sorry as they were to lose his society, they were glad that the active engagements which now em- ployed him restored him to a happier frame of mind. As for Helen, she was very busy. Besides her own studies and little Hetty's music-lessons, she had the whole charge of Robert. Most faithfully, if unconsciously, she was molding his character: but it was not without trouble and vexation. He was a constant tax upon her patience; so many were the faults to correct and so many the virtues to coax into existence or activity; besides the revising of letters to his parents, the telling of stories on winter evenings, the rendering of assistance in difficult lessons, or, just as toilsome when not in the humor, in devising and carrying out schemes of amusement. But Robert did love Aunt Nellie, was as good as he could be, and in his quiet way, for he was never a noisy boy, added much to the good cheer of the AND VILLAGE BELLES. 301 household. As for little Hetty, she was no trouble at all, only a pleasure. There was no great responsibility in her case, for she had a mother: and she was at Truro only dur- ing school hours, except in stormy weather, when she would stay sometimes for days together.; HeIlen was glad of these visits, not only because she loved Hetty, but because Robert, at such times, made .fewer demands upon her time and ex- ertions. Hetty resembled her mother in appearance, save a dash of her father's sobriety. *: " " / page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] ' ? XXXI; When the two goats met on the bridge which was too narrow to allow them ter to pass each other or to return, the goat which lay down that the other ;ht walk over him was a finer gentleman than Lord Chesterfield." RICHARD CECIL. R. AMOS GRAVES was at last advanced to a partner- ship in the one store. of Cedarville. He was no longer Rt. AMOS GRAVES was at last advanced to a partner- ship in the one store of Cedarville. Ie was no longer 'young' Mr. Graves; his youth, whicl many years of clerk- ship had prolonged, was swallowed up instantaneously in the vortex of honor, when the new and brilliant sign-board, painted in blue letters on a white ground with a green bor- der, emblazoned the firm, of SLATER &GRAVES. Indeed, after this event, some even ventured to speak of him as old Graves. The firm of Slater &Graves did a flourishing business. The infusion into the concern of Mr. Graves' activity and shrewdness, aided by the establishment of Mr. Hughes' fac- tories, begun a new era in the mercantile history of Cedar- ville, the first evidence of which was the erection of a branch store down by the grist-mill and factories, and the employ- ment of two clerks in the old store, where one had heretofore answered all requirements. Mr., Graves still however occupied the loft over the store, which had always been the clerk's bed-chamber, and left tlle DIAMOND TRUE DIAMON D. 303 two clerks. to shift for themselves in the store below, and find a place at nighlt, on the floor, among the miscellaneous goods, for the cotton-mattress, which in the day-time was mysteriously crowded under the counter. But often, when Mr. Graves went to bed at night, he meditated the feasibil- ity of some arrangement, better for himself and the clerks too. As he extinguished his candle and lay watching the moonlight, if there were any, as it vainly sought a cheerful corner under the rafters, among the Shingles, or on the floor, of the unceiled, unpainted and, uncarpeted dormitory, Mr. Graves would ask 1himnself whether it were not about time for him to get married. Why was it, that as often as Mr. Graves asked this ques- tion of himself, the pretty, bright face of Margaret Ball came up before him as plain as a vision? And why was it, that Mr. Graves had no objection to gaze at the vision, but tried to prolong its continuance before his mind's eye? It could not be that he was in love with Margaret Ball!"Oh, no!"Mr. Graves would say to himself and be shocked at the bare thought. "He could never love any but a decided- ly pious woman; and Margaret Ball was not so very pious. -How could she be with such a father?" 'and Mr. Graves would find himself making' excuses for Margaret's lack of piety. Then he would wonder with hilsclf if slhe might not become a more devoted Christian if placed under more auspi-. cious influences, under his own for instance!-' Not that he meant to make the experiment: oh, no! It would be too great a risk. He had no idea of marrying Margaret Ball; it would be sinful in him if he had:" and, with a little sigh, Mr. Graves would turn over in bed and begin systematically to turn over in his mind who there was that he could niarry. . page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] )4 DIAMOND T RUE DIAMOND. There was Kitty White; but slie was too much of a gossip: her piety too was-well, it was questionable, even more than Margaret Ball's. There were. the Lowe girls; only one of them professed religion and she was only a professor-never gave any otler evidence of interest in good things. There was Sarah Hayes, and he dwelt a good while on Sarah-an excellent, sedate, sensible girl Sarah was :--but then she was a little oldish, and very demure, and-yes, a good girl -but not such a ringing tone to her piety as filled Mr. Graves' spiritual ear. But there was Cynthia Stryker! Against her piety, nothing could be said; it was beyond doubt: she was an active, devoted Christian, just of Mr. Graves' kind. She was not handsome, to be sure; but Christians should not marry for beauty: and, as an offset to beauty, she was yonng and educated and calculated for a business-man's wife. Shle was the sister of the minister, too, that was something. Why should lie not have Cynthia Stryker? Mr. Graves could see no possible objections: and night afnightftight he composed himself to sleep with the de- termination to make Cynthia Stryker his wife! But some- how, as his mind floated away into the mystic regions of sleep, it was not Cynthia Stryker's homely visage,' but Mar- garet Ball's pretty face that smiled upon him and faded with the last indistinct vision of the night. Mr. Graves was impatient for Cynthia's return to Cedar- ville, and often called at the parsonage to inquire after her and be sure of the time when she might be expected. In the mean while he was often induced to step in at Mr. Ball's: he might do some good, he would say to himself, might speak a word in season, perhaps-a word of warning to Mr. Ball, if he should happen to meet him, which he never did, DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. 305 or a word of comfort to Mrs. Ball, or a word of advice to 'Margaret. When Mrs. Stryker dilated, as she most always chanced to in Mr. Graves' presence, on the many impropri- eties and shortcomings of Margaret, especially that one impru- dent act of walking in the street till near midnight with a young man, neither brother nor cousin; Mr. Graves would be very sorry for poor Margaret, very, VERY sorry (Mrs. Stryker would rather have had him more severe against her fault, and less sorrowful about it). Once, when. Mr. Graves met at Mr. Ball's a good-looking young nan, whom he knew to be a respectable harnessmaker in MAontgomery, be- ginning business for himself, he went away in a dejected frame of mind, and under the impression that he must be sick, helped himself to a, dose of medicine from a shelf in the . store before retiring to his loft, and dreamed all night long of vain attempts to release Margaret Ball from a set of harness, which a handsome young man fastened on her. The first night after Cynthia's arrival at Cedarville, Mr. Graves paid 'his respects at the parsonage. :During the course of the day he had issued sundry contradictory orders and betrayed various symptoms of nervousness; all of which rendered the clerks wide awake to the fact, that he was unusually long at his toilet, in the loft, after supper, and that, when he passed through the store, his countenance ex- pressed anxiety, and his step indicated business on hand, and that (for they. watched him, the scamps!) he went up to the Parsonage. "Tell you what, Jim, old Graves' gone to make love to Cinthy Stryker. Be danog, if I don't cut hiin out!" "Better get your name on that ere sign, afore you try," was the reply of the brother clerk. page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] 306 DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. "Looks afore money with most gals, Jim. I 've had expe- rience," and Bill Jenkins, William Agustus Jenkins, he called himself, put on ail air of irresistibleness to the fair sex in general. "Guess ye hain't tried any of them Strykers, have you?" "No: but I will; see if I don't!" "You 'll have your pains for your trouble, unless you show your money first. They 're sharp." "What kind of a girl is Cinthy Stryker?"Mr. Jenkins was a newscomer to the village. Ugly-as sin!"' "Humph! That's not encouraging. Don't know but I'll let old Graves take her. I'll have one look at her first though, afore I decide." Mr. Graves was startled by meeting a handsome stranger at the parsonage gate and disagreeably affected by a glimpse of Miss Cynthia, at the parlor window, watching the egress of the stranger. Mr. Graves surmised that the stranger was the gentleman who occupied the seat next Miss Cynthia in the stage-coanc, when it stopped at the store to leave the mails, but Mr. Graves had been too intently occupied at that moment in bowing at the face' in blue ribbons, to make close observations on her gentlemanly escort. Miss Cynthia received Mr. Graves kindly, and proved her- self, as usual, sprightly, agreeable and pious in conversation. Mr. Graves felt his heart warming under her smiles and liked to have been betrayed into saying some tender thii'gs. But he wished she would not quote Mr. Seymour, what he thought, said, and did, quite so much; and wondered' who Mr. Seymour was. The next evening Mr. Graves called at the parsonage DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. 307 again. This time he met the handsome stranger in the par- lor. He was introduced. When he heard the name-"Mr. Seymour"-he was filled with alarm. He was, too embar- rassed to take part in the conversation, though it was of a strictly religious nature. Fortunately Miss Cynthia was too deeply interested in the polished Mr. Seymour, to observe the awkwardness of the country storekeeper. This circumstance increased Mr. Graves' misery and confirmed his worst fears. Mr. Seymour left soon after Mr. Graves' arrival. But Mr. Graves' could not recover his spirits, and he took an early leave. What in the world put it into his head, on his way home, to step in "just for a moment," at Margaret Ball's! Margaret was very glad to see him, " because," as she told Kitty White, the next day, " mother was sick. and low-spir- ited, and she knew that Mr. Graves' call would rouse her up; he"dread a chapter and make a prayer and talk to her as good as a sermon." Mr. Graves fulfilled Margaret's expectations and she fol- lowed him to the door, thanked him for the call and asked him to come again. She never had done so before. Why did Mr. Graves feel so happy? Mr. Graves himself thought that he was experiencing the pleasure of doing good. "' He that watereth shall be watered also himself;'" he said to himself. "I hhve been trying to coifort poor Mrs.'Ball, and joy has come into my own heart;' at the very time, too, when this bitter disappointment has blighted my fondest hopes of earthly happiness." Is Mr. Graves the only one who has ascribed carnal joys to spiritual sources? Certain it is, he never once thought that night, after the light was out and the moon was glistering on the rafters, of Cynthia / page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 308 DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. Stryker and Mr. Seymour; but he did think all the time of Margaret Ball and her last words. Could Mr. Graves help going again to Margaret Ball's the next evening, when she had asked him so sweetly and earn- estly to come again, and her mother needed his word of con- solation so much? Hie did go; and he went earlier and staid later than on the preceding evening. Margaret; too, was quite sociable. She never had talked to him so fieely. To be sure, she sewed all the time, and scarcely looked up from her work, even when she was talking; but she gave a good excuse for her unseasonable industry. "I am making a dress for a poor child, Mr. Graves. There's a family down by the factories that's suffering. The father's been sick, and the mother's sold nearly every thing they had, till she has nothing to sell, and no one to sell it to if she had. I told Mrs. Hughes about them and she gave me some things and the stdff to make this dress. I want to finish it to night and carry it down to-morrow, that the little girl may come to Sunday-school next Sunday." "Do you mean to carry it yourself?"Mr. Graves asked. "Yes." "Walk all the way down there?" "Yes. I don't mind the walk if it were n't for the time it takes." "Would you mind riding in the store-wagon, on the seat in front of tie barrels and things, when it goes down to-mor- row afternoon to the factories? If you would n't, I 'll come for you, and drive it myself." "Oh! thank you Mr. Graves. If it would n't be a trouble to you, I'd like it first rate. I'd as lief go that way as in a carriage. DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. 309 Mr. Graves went to bed happy again, that night, quite ob- livious to Cynthia Stryker and Mr. Seymour, and very much occupied in thought with Margaret Ball's benevolence. He had no idea that she was such a good girl. It was so good of her, very good, to be making that dress and taking those long walks to the factory people, when she had all the work to do at home, and so much heart-trouble about her father besides. Whatever goodness there was in all this, Mr. Graves was making the most of it. The next day Mr. Graves' thoughts were strangely precipi- tated into the afternoon; and when at last lthe afternoon came, and the time for the one-horse spring-wagon to take its daily trip down to the factories, Bill Jenkins was disap- pointed to find his place as driver forestalled, and more sur- prised to observe that Mr. Graves wore his best coat, at the risk of ruining it against the flour barrels and greasy hams. Margaret looked blooming and happy as she sprang up to the leather-covered seat, 'alongside of Mr. Graves. It was such a novelty. How father would laugh if he saw her. But her father was not in the smithy and Margaret looked sad and did not turn her head as they passed the tavern, to see ?i ift he were there. "Do you go down often to the factories?"Mr. Graves in- quirec. "Pretty often. I 'd go oftener if I 'd company. It's lone- some to go alone." "What do you go for, then?" "Well, I like the walk," "Is that the only reason?" Mr. Ges I d at ." inquirin , bt wh me Mr. Graves looked at her inquiringly, but with more deli-. , page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] 810 DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. cacy than he usuallyeviiiced, forbore pressing his question. Margaret with some hesitation satisfied his curiosity. "I'll tell you how it is, Mr. Graves, for fear you might think there's something in these visits that is n't. I some- times get discouraged because I can't do no good in the world like other Christians. One day the notion took me that I might find some one to do good to, down there. So I went down, and I did. To be sure I can't do much, but then it's something. I can put things to rights when the woman's sick, or fix a poor sick body in bed, or help nurse the children when they're fretsome, or find out whether they want food or clothes and go and tell the Lees or the IIughes -they always give me what I ask for." "Why Margaret!" exclaimed Mr. Graves, with undis- guised surprise and pleasure. "The Lord will surely bless you for all this. You need n't say you ain't doing any good in the world; you are. You shame me out and out. 'Here I, an elder of the church, have been going down to those factories day after dcay for more than a year. and I never even so much as thought of asking if any of those poor folks needed assistance. To be sure I've lectured some of 'em for not coming to church, nor sending their children to Sunday- school and once in a while would give a little something when they asked for it; but-but-that's all!" and Mr. Graves whipped up the horse, like a manl who had got new light and was in a hurry to follow it. Margaret had. to grasp the end of the seat, the wagon jolted so; but Mr. Graves, observing. that, reined in the horse and they went along quietly as before. "You say there's a good deal of suffering down there," Mr. Graves remarked. $ - : DDIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. 3" "No; not actual suffering. But I always find something to do for somebody when I go down. But what they often need most is what I can't give them." 'W That's that?" "Talking to." "'Why, you can talk, can 't you?" "Not the right way. They need instruction about their souls--spiritual advice, and I ain't good enough for that. I never could talk religion. I thought, Cinthy Stryker 'd go with me, when she came home. She can talk like a book --just like preaching sermons." "Well,'won't she?" "I asked her yesterday. She did n't give me much en- couragement. She said it was a long walk, and sometimes dusty and sometimes wet; but she'd think about it; per- haps she'd go with me next week, but she could n't go to- day. Kitty White says--but then I do n't put no store on what Kitty White says, she talks so at random-but she says that Cinthy's too proud to go through the street in a sun-bonnet and commlon clothes%, and her fine ones are too fine to draggle through the dusty roads and besides, she wants to show them in church first." Mr. Graves was immersed in a brown study. Nothing was said for a minute or two. Margaret looked troubled. "Perhaps, Mr. Graves," she said timidly, "I ought n't to have told what Kitty said about Cinthy. Somehow I never took to Cinthy and am too ready to hear what Kitty says against her, who don't like her a bit. I want to be better tlhan I am: won't you please tell me my faults, Mr. Graves,' when you see them?" I "I never see-"Mr. Graves was about to pronounce page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] 312 DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. Margaret faultless, but checked himself in time to save future reproaches of conscience. Had he not often joined in her condemnation for many failings and shortcomings as a Christian? Wlihat had so suddenly blinded him? "What was you going to say, Mr. Graves?"Margaret asked, with anxiety. "If you wish to be better, Margaret, you must look to Divine help, not human. 'If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of'God, that giveth to all liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.'" "'Thank you, sir. But here we are at the store. I can walk the rest of the way, and will be back: by the time you're ready." "Would n't you like me to go with' you and say a word or two, to these poor folks?" "Oh! yes, sir. If you can." "Wait a minute." Mr. Graves entered the store and gave his orders to the clerk. Then he busied himself putting up various brown paper parcels, which he stowed away in a large basklet; the basket at last was swung on his arm and he announced him- self ready. Maragaret had watched his operations, while she sat on the willow-bottomed chair in the door-way; with curi- osity. They went out together and came back with an empty basket and full hearts. Mr. Graves visited that day more than one family of. Margaret's acquaintance and his word'of counsel and prayer did more good, peihaps, than all the alarming tracts he had zealously distributed among the more intelligent families of the village. That very night Mr. Graves called at Mr. Ball's again. Margaret was .sewing and singing, as lively as a cricket. DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. 313 Mr. Graves walked in wil;hout knocking, for he began to feel at home. Mrs. Ball had gone to bed. She, was not well. She would be sorry, -and she would n't have gone to bed MarIgaret guessed, if she was sick, had she thought Mr. " Graves would be so good as to come again. It was hardly ever any one came to see them of an evening, except once in a while Kitty White, or Mr. and Mrs. Iughes. Mr. Graves was not sorry that Mrs. Ball had retired. He had begun to understand some things that had been knock- ing about in his heart for months past, things on which the image of Margaret Ball was so deeply impressed, that they might be known to be hers, as plainly as Caesar's superscrip- tion marked the denarii fort his. Mr. Graves was a just man. He believed in rendering to Coesar the things that are CQesar's; and as soon as he found out that he had some- thing that belonged to Margaret, he resolved that she should have her own, even if it were his heart. People might talk as they chose. If Margaret was n't up to the technical idea of " a devoted, active Christian," Mr. Graves began to sus- pect that she was better than he! "I am glad to find you alone, Margaret," Mr. Graves re- plied to her expressions of regret at Mrs. Ball's absence. "Are you?" was Margaret's surprised rejoinder. "Yes. I wish to see you to-night. I have something very particular to say." "Have you? What is it?" Margaret answered, with her usual simplicity, and suspended the sewing without putting the work out of her hand. Mr. Graves paused a moment and then began. "Margaret, Scripture says, 'God setteth the solitary in I , i families.'" i. 6 , " , 14 page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] 314 DIAMOND; TRUE D'IAMOND. Mr. Graves was so much in the habit of starting his re- marks with some text of Scripture as remote from the sub- ject as the east from the west, that Margaret was not at all startled by this ominous introduction. "Now, Margaret," he continued, "'I ave been thinking about this Scripture lately a good deal. I've applied it to myself, and in looking about to see whom I might find hap- piness with in this life, H have thought, der argaret-" Iis voice fell into that tender tone it sometimes had ill prayer. Margaret ,was all in a tremor in al instant. WThat was he about to say? In her agitated attempt to extricate her foot from ,the ork which had fallen from her lap, she upset the little three legrgel table; the candle went over with it, and was extinguished. This,gave her a chance to re- cover'herself. She jumped up and began to laugh, talk, and light the candle, all at the same time. "It happened just so once," she said, "wlhen Joseph Joyce was here. You know Joseph, don't you, Mr. Graves? Did n't you meet himl here one time?" "Mr. Joyce, the harnessmaker, frora-l? Mr. Graves gasped. "From Montgomery. Yes," said Margaret, blowing away at the coal she held with the tongs, and prolonging the op- eration more than her practiced skill at lighting candles ren- dered at all necessary. "Joseph and I think a great deal of each other. We've been acquainted this two years now. You'll like him whenl you know him better, Mr. Graves. At least I hope' you. will try to, for my sake. Oh dear! I must go to mother's rooin and get a match. Excuse me a minute, Mr. Graves." Margaret's minute was considerately a very long one. DIAMONI) TRUE DIAMOND. 315 When she caine back Mr. Graves had lighted the candle and was sitting by the large table between the windows, examin- )IS ipg her books, in one of which he had found a presentation plate in which the names of Margaret Ball and Joseph Joyce ^ - was brought into close and loving proximity, in the center - of a very red heart. ^: "The matches were not where I put them," said Marga- ret by way of excuse for her long absence. She was still a little flurried. "I succeeded in lighting the candle," said Mr. Graves very composedly, "and now it is time for me to go. But I want first to ask you a question, Margaret, if you won't be of- fended. You' know I am a good deal older than you." (Strange that he had not thought of that before!) Margaret was sure, from his manner, that the question would not be disagreeable; and told him she would ailswer it with pleasure, if she could. "Are you and Mr. Joyce engaged?" "Yes," she' answered, frankly. "Been engaged some time?" "Yes. I never told any body but mother, because we couldn't be married just yet. But I supposed every one knew it, as he comes here, off and on, when he can." "I have had some suspicions," Mr. Graves answered, " but I didn't know for certain. I thought you wouldn't mind telling an old friend. Good-night, Margaret. I'll come and see your mother again soon." ,I hMargaret waited at the closed door till the gate shut and the receding steps assured her that Mr. Graves was beyond hearing of the sliding bolt, and then she fastened the door, i - . page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] 316 DIAM OND TRUE DIAMONiD. went back to her seat before the smoldering coals in the fire- place, and gave herself up to musing. "Wonder what he did mean! Perhaps, after all,'it was nothing. Never thought of his coming to see me-supposed, of course, it was mother. Once or twice fancied that he was a little tender and civil-like, but wasn't sure. Well, I'm sorry if he did mean tany thing. He, must think I led him on, taking that ride with him and all, and talking to him so free. I'm sorry enough, for I did like him, he 's so good to mother, and he prays so beautifully. HHe is a Christian, if he is so fiightensome sometimes. Perhaps he never meant any thing at all. Did n't act like it at last. Yet he said he had something particular to say. Perhapls it was to ask if Joseph and me, are engaged, for he did akl that. But he did n't begin as if he was going to ask tliat-le never does begin like other folks, though. Almost wish I'd let him go on, only that would have been bad, too. Well, I sholuld like to know for sure." And Margaret thought about it, and smiled over it, and cried at it, till there was a staggering step on the porch and a fumbling at the front door. She let her father in, helped him to his room, forgetting to cry about imn as she usually did at nights, because she was so busy thinking' about Mr. Graves and she went to bed thinking the matter over and over, without coming to any better conclusion. Whether Mr. Graves, did or did. not mean any thing, she never knew "for sure:" she only knew that Mr. Graves was always kind toher and Joseph, and " that," she would say to herself, "did not look like it!" Mr. Graves had his thoughts too that night: very sad and disappointed reflections, so far as himself was concerned, DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. 317 but very kind and Christian-like as respected Margaret. He wondered why she and Mr. Joyce did not get married. He concluded, after thnking over all the possible whys and wherefores, that the reason might be because the Balls were so poor now-a-days. Mr. Ball earned little and spent that little at the tavern. There was another biacksmithy, down by the factories, now. All the family got, Mr. Graves sur- mised, was what Bill Ball sent home, and he was not over steady and did n't send much. Hle guessed Margaret must be waiting to get tlhings together a little. The next evening a piece of muslin disappeared from the store. It was 'charged on the books to Mr. Graves, in his own handwriting. No one asked any questions: but Mrs. 1Ball dave Mr. Graves a great many thanks. That same evening Mr. Graves "called at the tannery, and while talking with Mrs. Hughes, dropped a hint that Margaret might be engaged to that young Joyce, and if she' was n't so poor would be married right off. A hint was enough. Mrs. I-ughes asked Margaret the next day, and Margaret told her all, and Mrs, Hughes told Helen Lee. The result was a box full of things from Mrs. Hughes, with full sets of silver spoons - ifrom Mr. Iughes: a complete wedding suit, with orders to Kitty White to make it up and a pretty set of bridish trinkets, from Helen Lee, because she and Margaret used to be Sunday-school scholars, together: and white China dinner and tea sets from Mr. Lee, besides a good many useful ar- i ticles from Mrs. Lee, because the Lees had always liked the Balls, and Steve Ball had l(one them some good turns, if he was such a democrat. Margaret was very happy, and was married within a month. Kitty White was bride's-maid and Mr. Graves page: 318-319[View Page 318-319] 318 DIAMOND TRUE DIAMOND. kissed the bride and wished her great joy, without making one funereal speech albout it, and Margaret went away from Cedarville and Mr. Graves missed her only less than her mother and the poor people at the factories did. Mr. Graves went to the Parsonage occasionally: but lhe never could make up his mind to attack Miss Cynthia again, though his reception was always cordial and flattering, and he heard nothing more about Mr. Seymour. Once or twice he spent an evening with Kitty White: but she was too volatile for his taste and had too much to say about her neighbors. At last he took to visiting Miss Sarah Iayes. He went there so much, that people began to talk about it. But Mr. Graves cared not for this. He went till it calme natural to go, and Sarah seemed always glad to see him. XXXII. , ^ w\\ Oi the - .na ral. "There is in the world a certain c!ass of mortals known, and contentedly known, by the namqe of passiomnte men, who imagine themselves entitled, by that dis- Uinction, to be provoked on every slight occasion."-SA-MuEL JonIs5ON. MSS CYNTHA STRYKER had returned to Cedarville, V.1 not to spend a vacation, but to become a permanent res- ident in her brother's family. About mid-winter, however, ,Miss Cynthia suddenly disappeared. The cause was never explained beyond thel assertion that Miss Cynthia was so fond of teaching, she could not be happy. without the charge of a school of her own. Helen Lee shed no tears: and went to church, Sundays, without the fear of hearing from Perry Seymour through Miss Stryker, who never omitted an op- portunity of reminding Helen that Mr. Seymour was her particular friend. Indeed she once dropped a hint of a cor- respondence. She had at least received one letter from Mr. Seymour. The rest of the winter passed with no signal event. The summer came again with its visitors and gayety. Albert Sey-. mour, Esq., honored Truro with his presence for a day or I two: but his reception was so cold, Helen so inaccessible and Mr. Langdon Murray so much in the wayi of his hopes, that he gave up hope and went in search of a fortune else- where. Helen still preserved the position of a school-girl. -t ulnlcleai vt tsvstt n aey letSy page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] 320 A SPECIMEN OF She devoted herself to hor studies: kept out of the way of company; and allowed no one the freedom of her friendship except Mr. Langdon Murray whom she liked more and more. The nearer she came to 'the verge of society, the more she shrunk from it and clung with a fond tenacity to the rights and immunities of her girlhood. But her time was up. She was eighteen: and her sisters decided that she must "come out." The family were once more to spend their winters in the city of New York. The old rooms at Mrs. Seymour's were again engaged. Emma Darling was to introduce the debttante by a grand party, the first, and it was expected to be the most splendid of the sea- son. Theresa Lee, if she' returned, from Europe, which was uncertain, so necessary did she imagine the latitude of Italy to be for her health, was to give another party in honor of her young sister-in-law. Already "society" in New York was agitated in expectation of the grand affair that was to come off at Mrs. Gracic Darling's; and the extraordinary beauty of ITelen Lee and the certainty of her being the belle of the season, were the edifying subjects of discussion. It was a b:ight sunny morning, the' last day of October, and only two days before the appointed evening for Mrs. Darling's party.' The pi:tzza at Truro was covered with trunks. The carriage was drawn up before the door; and the large two-horse country wagon stood at the side door, ready to receive the servants and baggage. Mrs. Lee had already entered the carriage and Helen had one foot on the steps and with her head turned was saying a last word and laughing her adieus to Miss Brown and little Hetty. She was as ever in higyh spirits and her laugh was as melli- fluous and mellow as the song of birds. THE HUM A N B R AMBLE. 321 Come Nellie, get in," said Mr. Lee, as h-e turned away from Cesar, to whhom he had been giving his last orders. The words were not spoken, when a rider came dashing up the avenue, at headlong speed, his horse covered with' foam. It was Rupert's servant man. He turned off by the road that led to the stables, and appeared again in a minute, dismounted and leading his horse, at the end of the piazza. ' What's the matter, Thomas a" inquired ]Mr. Lee, advanc- ing toward him. The answer was too low for the ladies to hear, but Mr. Lee instantly returned to tlhem. "We can not go this morning," he said, extending his hand to Mrs. Lee, who passively suffered herself to be helped out of the carriage, while Mr. Lee continued speaking. "Rupert has met with an accident of some sort. He will be here directly. Nellie, dear, you see that his room is put in or- der. C-esar send one of the men down to the village for Dr. Lowe, and another on the roan mare to Montgomery for the doctor there. Anld you, my dear," addressing his wife, "had better order dinner, or we shall be without that important meal." Mr. Lee's orders, delivered in a cheerful tone, set each one to work at something, and prevented the excitement which usually follows a first alarm. The orders were executed, traveling dresses laid aside and the innumerable things, which the sudden change of arrangement rendered necessary, were accomplished, and they waited long in painful anxiety before the lumbering farnm-wagon, which carried the unfortu- nate Rupert, came slowly up the avenue. They knew only that his horse had made a false leap, that he had been taken up senseless and that at least his leg was broken. They ", (, I page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] 322 IL SPECIMEN OF hardly learned more than this after his arrival. The physi- cians announced that his hip was dislocated, that he would be confined for weeks, perhaps months, but that the extent and seriousness of the injuries could not be determined till the inflammation subsided: till then, his situation was critical. All idea of New York was ,necessarily dismissed. None, perhaps, were very sorry, so far as any preference for New York to Truro was concerned, except Mr. Lee and Monsieur Maillart. Master Robert was a little disappointed that he was not to ride his pony "all the way to the city," but, on the whole, he would rather stay at Truiro. As for Miss Brown she was more pleased than, considering the accident, was just consistent with her very strict rules of propriety; for Miss B1rown-was to have staid behind], not at Truro, but at the Tannery, she having been wholly transferred to the gov- ernesship 'of little Hetty Hughes. But it was immediately decided that Miss Brown should stay where she was, and that things should go on, for the present at least, in their old train. Letters from Emma Darling expressed in words, a suitable degree of concern for " poo Rupert," and, in real feeling, sin- cere distress that Helen's coming-out could not be the first great party of the season. She did hope Rupert was not seriously injured ; if not, Helen must come immediately to the city. There was no necessity for her immuring her- self at Truro. It would be absurd to think of such a thing. If Rupert was to be long confined, a nurse must instantly be procured, and- Nellie be released. The nurse was procured; but Helen was invincible in her determination to stay, too. Not only had she always been TIlE- HUMAN BRAMBLE. 323 - indifferent to a winter in New York, save for the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Sickles; but there must be some one to superintend the nurse, and keep her mother and father cheerful, and do for Rupert what no nurse could do, and what Mrs. Lee had not strength or efficiency to do. Mfore letters came from Emma. What could she, a mere child, do in a sick-room? She was better out of the way, than in it. The world, especially after so much had been said about her coming-out, would not understand it. She was sure it was a mere romantic notion, a child's pious whim, that she must be useful at the expense of innocent and reasonable enjoyment. She must get rid of such horrid ideas. She had been too much under certain influences. It was desirable in every way that she should be removed from them. And when, pray, did she mean to come out, if not now? Helen smiled at her sister's pertinacity, and was amused at the -importance attached to this matter of " com- ing-out." Nor did she fail to detect that there was more dis- appointment on Emma's part at missing the eclat of Helen's introduction to the 'world, than any deep grief at Helen's particular loss. Mr. Lee attempted to add his persuasions to Emma's. But Helen laughed him out of them. The fact was, that Mr. - Lee was not anxious to dismiss Helen. If she left Truro, he must stay there; and winter quarters in that lonely retreat were not attractive to. him in his present feverish state of mind. He must have excitement. So Emma fretted in vain, while Helen was happy at Truro. Helen had never known Rupert well. She had come less in contact with him than with any of her brothers and sis- ters. He had maintained a separate existence from them all, f*K- ! page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] 324 A SPECIMEN .OF following his own inclinations, without asking leave, or being called to account. She had full time and ample opportunity to find him out now; for the fill and winter months passed away before he was able to leave his room. . There was not much to find out; at least, so far as variety was concerned. His character seemed mainly composed of one element--self- ishness; but that was so ingrained, so intense, so absorbing, that Nellie thoughlt she never could find the bottom of it. It was nothing in Rupert's estimation, that by his accident the plans of the whole family were deranged and Nellie was imprisoned in the country at the critical .moment when the doors of society were to be thrown open and her entree on the stage was to cause a vast sensation. Of her possible dis- appointment and of the inconvenience the rest might suffer, Rupert did not think: he tlought only of his own misfor- tune, and managed by his ill-humor and selfishness to make that a greater misfortune to every one else. He worried and complained, swore at the servants, was satisfied with nothing, required impracticable things, and never seemed aware that others had feelings, or could be fatigued or annoyed. "Is' this coarse, selfish, wicked fellow, my brother?"Nellie would ask herself. ';'The son of my polite father and gentle mother." Rupert soon discovered that Nellie was a handy nurse, a delightful reader, and always a lively and inspiriting companion. He would have kept her in his room, fussing with pillows and bolsters, medicines and drinks, or reading, or talking, all the time; and scolded her, too, in the bargain, if he could. But she had no intention of suffering martyr- dom to please'him. She had never wearied, day nor night, in tending Maria' sick bed. But Maria was lovable: i, THE HUMAN BRAMBLE. 325 i Rupert was not. Nellie confessed to herself, that she loved him either not at all, or only as one must love so near a re- i' -lation. W- hat she did for him was in the way of duty, not pleasure. -ad Helen Lee been a very good girl, she would have'set herself to work to improve the accident for Rupert's benefit, and would rather have rejoiced in it, as affording a hopeful chance for turning his thoughts to better things. She would have instituted a systematic course of reading, leading on from sober to serious and serious to solemn; she would have approached his heart by a series of attacks, in the way of talks and lectures; and she would have exhibited such an example of gentle patience, suffering meekness, aind heroic amiability, as should win his admiration for herself and all Christians in general, and conquer his aversion to religion. But Nellie could not have been very good, for she never even thought of all this. She did, indeed, pray for Rupert; she prayed that the accident might be over-ruled for good; but as for undertlaking the over-ruling of it herself, she never dreamed that it came withn the scope of her powers; she felt no call to it. She -did not aiml even to impress him by a sublime display of patience, meekness, and amiability. If she was ever gentle, enduring, and forbearing, it was because these were Avrtnes she loved for their 'own sake and never thought of putting on for the sake of effect. Nellie was no prodigy in the way of these virtues. Some- times it must' be confessed, a spice of temper flavored her conduct; and Rupert soon learned that he must mind his p's and q's with her, and must be himself very good, if he would secure her kind offices. Rupert was too selfish to part with these, and so he selfishly succumbed. page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] 326 A' SPECIMEN OF An instance of Nellie's spirit flamed out on him, the second Sunday after the accident. When she had come to his room in the morning, bonneted and cloaked for church, he had not looked pver pleased. But when she appeared again in the same dress in the afternoon, he looked positively angry. "'Where are you going?" he. asked surlily. "To church," she answered, with a tone that said, "Please, sir, what business is it of yours?" Rupert ripped out an imprecation against the church and all church-going people. Helen's eyes flashed. "tark, sir," she said. "You are the son of a gentleman, and disgrace your father by your rudeness.' You are the son of a Christian mother, and shame her by your profanity. And if you have not regard enough for them to use proper language, you will please, sir, to remember what is due to me as a lady, and never insult my ears with such expressions again!" Rupert uttered a bad word, but in a lower tone: it was only the force of habit. "Rupert," said Nellie, with increasing warmth, "you are a bad, selfish, impertinent fellow! I 'll not bear it.", He was unused to such plain speaking. He quailed be- fore Nellie's determined and indignant glance. These men of outrageous temper always cower before a resolute oppo- sition. Rupert did. "Nellie, I'mn sorry. It's a bad habit. I can't break myself." "You can, Rupert, and must when talling with me," Nellie answered, in a softer tone, but not less firmly. THE HUMA N PRAMBLE. 327 "I will, Nellie," he said, as meekly as a lamb, if he could be lanlb-like in any thing. Helen left the room and returned soon without bonnet or shawl. She had been angry and felt that some such ex- pression of her regard to his wishes was necessary, to show that there was no unkindness in her anger. Rupert was glad. He had not magnanimity enough to bid her go as she wished. It was. easier to keep down his temper, than to act unselfishly. But now that she staid, there was difficulty in finding any thinig to read. Sunday reading was not to Rupert's taste. Helen would yield to no other selection. He nearly lost his temper again and came near swearing at her obstinacy. The life of John Newton proved, at last, suf- ficiently attractive to him and edifying to her. It was seldom and only under strong provocation that Helen so impetuously asserted her rights. It was not neces- sary. Rrupert confessed her supremacy and rather coaxed than commanded her complaisance. lie found that he could break himself of profanity and could conquer his tem- per-as many another man has found, when it has been for his interest to do so or when inspired with fear by a strong- er will than his own. However like a simpleton he might rave at others, he swallowed his wrath when Helen's eye met his, or her spirited voice rebuked his folly. That he yielded to her power, was not so strange, perhaps, as that he coveted its exercise. Many might have overawed him, as she did; but they would have rendered their society dis- tasteful, and their authority, odious to him. Not so with Helen. The more he came under her influence, the more willing he was to submit to it. This was. owing to no better cause than his arrant selfishness. She was skillful and A . - ' page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] 328 A SPECIMEN OF willing, and she was' entertaining, whether she talked, o sung, or read, and she was always joyous-hearted, her smil was a sunbeam and her mirth was infectious :-Rupert coulc not afford to dispense with her services. If Helen could have talked upon what subjects shl chose, or read what books she pleased, the many hours spent in that sick room might have been agreeable and profitable. But she had to consult the taste of a man who had chosen to demean himself to the turf. As for reading, it was chiefly confined to sporting journals and the "Spirit of the Times." Punch was about the most delectable of the papers he -would tolerate. Sometimes a novel was slipped in, but seldom one of her selection. "'Are not you tired of this?" she exclaimed one day, paus- ing in the midst of a popular novel. "Tired. No, are you?" "Yes, in some sort." "It's entertaining?" "Yes." "Amusing?" "Very." "'Well written ' Exceedingly lwell: and the characters are drawn to life. But it is so intensely worldly and unchristian." "Humph! That's because it's truthful." "It's not truthful," Nellie rejoined, with spirit. "That is it is not a truthful representation of society as it exists in our age." "How's that? You just said that the characters were drawn to the life." "So they are. But they are all of one description. They THE IUMAN BRAMBLE. . 329 are all selfish at heart, formal and superficial in religion and fanatically worldly." Fanatically worldly! What an expredsion! But after all your own language is a pretty truthful description of society , " Of society within very narrow limits it may be: but not of society within the range that this book covers. There are Christians, true, faithful, earnest Christians, in the world, and many of them, too. But to read this book, you would never suppose so. It might have been written to suit the times of the. heathen emperors, or the dissolute court of Louis XV. There's no Christianity in it." "Pooh, child! You've not come out yet. Wait till you've seen the world before you judge how much Christi- anity there is in it." "I have seen my mother and imy mother's friends. Truro has had enough visitors whose. portraits are in this book. But never yet has it failed to be adorned by some proof that there is a living Christianity. As for the writer of this book, he must have been most singularly unfortunate in his imme- diate circle of intimate friends. His book is an undesigned libel on his mother, his home, his relatives and acquaintance, 'if there be but one Christian spirit among them. le never knew a Christian, a real Christian; he has never seen, which is hardly possible, or has seen afar off, without appreciating the loveliness, or comprehending the power of the Christian spirit." Helen's eye sparkled and her face shone with earnestness, as she vindicated the Christian character of the age. To her truthful and just mind, the utter ignoring of spiritual Chris- tianity, in books that pretend to be accurate portraitures of society as it is, was most offensive. iB ' page: 330-331[View Page 330-331] 330 A SPECIMEN OF "What a spirit you have got!" said Rupert, playing with her words, and looking at her admiringly. "I believe your temper might be as violent as mine, if it did not take another turnn," he added, chuckling. Helen smiled. "Yes, Rupert. I remember when there was a chance of my growing up a virago." ' How did you mhiss it?" "'A little English dalsy 1iad something to do with it. A very kind teacher, not Miss Brown, had more. And a bet- ter, wiser, greater Friendl, I hope, had yet more." "You talk riddles." "I hope you'll learn to solve them. But now, since this book must be finished, let us go on." Rupert was not averse. About three weeks after the accident, Helen was standing by the window in the oak-room, watching the snow-storm and waiting for the summons to dinner. Sonle object, far down the avenue, barely visible throuwgh the clouded air and between the treas, attracted her attention. Slowly it ap- proached. It was a vehicle of some sort-a sleigh-yes, now she heard the bells and saw the horses, weary and wet, trudging along through the unbroken snow-drifts. It drew up before the door. Who's that, smothered in robes, on the back seat? He is bowing, as well as his cumbersome muf- flers will let hm. It's M. I Murray. Helen was on the piazza in a minute as indifferent to the sweeping wind as if it were the breath of summer, and to the thick snow-flakes, as if they were adapted only for ornament and not for damage. "Oh, Mr. Murray! I am so glad to see you!"/ Mr. Murray wished she were not so glad, or were less frank to confess it. TH'E HUMAN BRAMBLE. 331 "What has brougllt you here?-No bad news?" she added, as the possibility was suggested by the slight cloud, that crossed his face, so smiling a moment before. "'No, no," answered Mr. Murray, extricating himself at last from the robes and jumping up the steps to grasp her i extended ]land; "only the pleasure of seeing you, and of I . being of use in taking care of your brother, if I can. But please, Miss Helen, come in out of the storm, Such expo- sure in New York would certainly result in consumption." "Only in consumnp tioli of coals here, sir, not of colds," ' answered Nellie, with her musical laugh. She' was always laughing, . Nellie was glid to see Mr. Murray. They had grown into very fast and fi fm friends. Hea was a friend worth having;. sensible, intelligent, agreeable, and large-hearted, a nobleman in all but the title. He staid a week this time and besides the pleasant talks in the house, and sleigh rides out of the h ouse, they had together, lie proved an accepta'ble commpan- ion to Rupert, and enabled Nellie to enjoy more liberty and amluse herself in her own fashion. She was sorry when Mr. Murray left, and said so, so plainly that Mr. Murray was sorry to hear it. I-e came once again before the winter was over. Except- ing these two/ visits, life at Truro was monotonous enough. Mr. Lee was seldom at home. Norton was at ]Boston, edit- ing a scientific journal. E He wrote often, and his letters were less and less seasoned with skeptical innuendoes, and some- times were slightly tinctured with a religious sentiment that l was not displeasing. - Except an occasional drive of all the family in the large sleigh, a bout at snow-balling with Robert and lHetty, and page: 332-333[View Page 332-333] 332 T2lHE HUMAN BRAMBLE. rarely, when there was no snow, a ride on horse-back wit Robert for an escort (CGesar was too old now and rheumatic the winter passed with no other entertainment than could b found in doors, and for Nellie, with few other changes thma Rupert's sick-room could afford. XXXIII. %! istie C .itotrt:: tnimble ann lt, ,iolt-flm'ero "Hech, lass! how can ye lo'e that rattle-skull? A very deil, that ay maun ha'e lis will:. We '1ll soon hear tell, what a poor fechting life You twa will lead, sac sooun's yc'rerman an' wife." ALLAN RAMAY. PERRY SEYMOUR returned from Europe the ensuing spring. 1H had remained abroad only half the time his friends wished and ur,ged, but far long'er than lie himself intended. Hie came to Trnro. He was improved in appear- , ance, and was cheerful in spirits. Nellie wondered whether the mysterious cloud had ever withdrawn from the horizon of his happiness. She had no chance to ask him. By some fatality Cynthia Stryker was at Bedminster par- sonage, spending her vacation. Perry arrived in the morn- ing, and after the late dinner, as soon as he politely could, he withdrew to pay his respects at. the parsonage. He did not return to tea.' Could' it be that love for Cynthia and not friendship for Nellie had attracted him to Cedarville? Helen herself asked the question, and scouted it as soon as asked. She felt uneasy 'and unhappy, nevertheless. ., ^! page: 334-335[View Page 334-335] 334 THE rTHSTLE OUTROOTED: 'I do hope," she said to Mrs. Hughes the next day, "that Perry will not be entrapped into any unsuitable match. I can not yet believe :it possible that he is a victim-I will not speak of it! I respect him too much." ; Cynthia Stryker might be worse for a minister's wife," Mrs. uIghes quietly interposed. "She's well enough in her way. But think of Perry's fancying her! It's too unsuitable! Why does not Cynthia marry Mr. Graves? That would be capital." "Perhaps Mr. Graves would not let her," said Mrs. Hughes. "But I see you do not know the news. Mr. Graves has wooed and won a wife." "Whom?" "Guess." "Some one in the village?." "Yes." "I am sure I can not tell, uiless it is Cynthia." "No, indeed. It is an old friend of yours-Sarah Hayes." "How could Sarah fancy him?" "You have not seen :much of Mr. Graves lately. He is improved. Sarah has done it, I guess. Even Steve Ball and he are friends, now-a-days. Steve is reconciled to him for no other reason:inL the world, I believe, than because Mr. Graves begins to appreciate and. venerate our dear old pastor Mr. Poole. He thinks nIow that there may be electricity without thunder, and good done without noise." "Mr. Graves is to be married to Sarah Iayes?"Helen repeated reflectively, giving no attention to what Mrs. Hughes had just said. "That is the reason he has built himself a house." BRAMA BLE AND PASSIOs-F LO W ER. 335 "Yes, to be sure. Who did you suppose was to live in it ' '- "I thought he might have a mother or sister or some old body to keep house for him." Near Slater &, Graves' store, a year previous, had Mr. Graves laid the foundation of a dwellinglhouse. Slowly and at intervals, as new erections iu the country are apt, the building had progressed and hardly was well closed in be- fore the winter poured down its rains and heaped up its snows on theshining new shingles of its roof. Through the cold montlhs the sound of hammering had issued from within, and the smoke of fires to dry the plaster had curled up from its two brick chmneys. ]?aint and Venetian window-blinds finished up its outside appearance, in the spring, and gave it -, habitable air. Mr. and Mrs. Hugles had lent their in- yaluable aid in the' planting of trees and shrubbery (not a dwellinog in the village, except the pa'sonage and tavern, but had caught the mania for floral embellishment since the Hughes had come to live in the Tannery). Mr. Graves' residence at last was complete, and invited occupants, nor in- vited long. : On the very eve of sulmmer, that is the last day of spring, Mr. Amos Graves and Miss Sarah Hayes were united in' marriage by the Rev. James Stryker. How little Mr. Graves thought, long years ago, that the red-haired Sunday-school (scholar who stared at him from lashlless eyes, and skulked away froim him into the cow-shed, would pronounce the words that would make him the happiest man in the world. Such is this topsy-turvy world. We know not, to-day, who will be at the head and who at the foot to- morrow., page: 336-337[View Page 336-337] 336 THE THSTLE OUTROOTED: The wedding was quiet, sedate and very respectable. M and Mrs. Lee and Nellie, Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, Mr. an Mrs. Slater and all the Lowes were there to dignify i besides every one else in the village that was any one. That marriage ceremony was the last pastoral act of ti Rev. James Stryker in the village of Cedarville. Dissatisfaction had been brewing for some time in tl Cedarville church. The old people, with the long ministi of their old pastor- fresh in memory, had never liked tl ways of the new minister. The young people tired c the man himself.' The school had, gradually absorbed, nm only Mr. Stryker's time, but his enthusiasm. His form vehemence were better than his present apathy. People b( gan to talk about it.. The talk began on the outer edges c society, as it were. A word spoken in a corner, then whisper in the store, then a hint at the church door: then little discussion at a quilting to which Mrs. Stryker was a( cidentally not invited: till at last words, whispers, hints an discussion grew into a general buzz, and the matter wo talked over freely, every where and by every one. Even the tavern it was brought on the carpet-saving that tl bar-room floor was sanded.. Steve Ball boasted how he use to go to church, and how he'd like to go again, but . were nit going as long as that man was. pastor. Tim Whi taker too, expressed a sort of penitent wish to be decent one more, as he used to be, and shut up bar and go to chure Sundays, if they had a parson that would n't point his fing at him, and' hold him up to scorn all the time, when lI were n't worse nor the rest of 'em, and when he was in th pew and could n't get out of it. Amid all this ferment, Mr. Amos Graves, once so activ BRAMBLE AND PASSION- FLOWER. 337 and officious, was unaccountably inert and apparently un- conscious of what was going on. Opportunely the Rev. James Stryker received a call to the Presidency-not of the United States-but of a college. Hle accepted. His farewell sermon was preached the Sun- i:r: day before Mr. Graves was married; and just as one house B a in the village was newly occupied, the parsonage was shut up: a dreary, desolate, shabby-looking place, with no grass or shrubbery to enliven it, and no trees to hide the staring nakedness of the school-house which remaind a monument of Mr. Stryker's architectural taste. The first week in June, Truro opened its hospitable door to the first guests of the summer. With the roses, the very earliest of them, came Mr. Murray, always welcome. Rupert was limping about on crutches, emancipated from his room, but still a prisoner within the limits of his own powers of locomotion, interdicted all violent exercise, even so much as the. motion of a carriage. For him, who loved a ! horse's back, this was a hardship. But it was beneficial. Driven to the parlor for amusement, he was in the way of some refining influences which lhe had heretofore avoided "Mr. Rupert is getting quite civilsised, Miss Helen," said his man, Thomas, one day. "'How so; Thomas?" asked Helen for the sake of en- couraging him to proceed, for he evidently had something to communicate. Having on- occasions shielded him from the passionate outhursts of Rupert's violent temper, Thomas had learnedto regard her as his particular friend and had grown confidential in all matters that pertained to his master. ' ' i5 page: 338-339[View Page 338-339] 338 TI E TH S TLE OUTROOTE D . "Well, Miss Helen" he replied, deliberately, and pausin to con over the hardest words he could drag in, for he sa he had leave to talk. "Mr. Rupert is grown agreeable an in a general way complacent. He is indeed quite tractitabt and domesticated. It 's my opinion, Miss Helen, to the bec of my judgment, that some-ut more than or'nary has inc dentally affected Mr. Rupert's comportment." Ielen saw that she was expected to ask what the might be. "In my opinion, to the best of my judgment,' Miss Helen he answered, looking very wise, " it's love." "Love!" "Yes, miss, I've carefully inspected' into this case, and ai sure that Mr. Rupert is under the influence of them tend( sentiments which love ilnspirates." "Why, Thomas, whom in the world is he in loi with?" "With Miss Paulin, Miss elan uand she miss, entire returns the-the" "How do you know that?" asked Helen, not waitir till he could select a delectable word from his extensi vocabulary. "P'raps should I inform you, you'd only laugh more Helen's merry laugh had responded to' all Thomas hl said. "No matter for my laughing, Thomas," she said, "let have your reasons." "Well, miss, p'rhaps they 'll not be commendable to yoi but I know that a dog has more natur' about 'm, nor ar one. It beats all how much natur' a dog has; and when dog affectionizes a young lady, as Lion does Miss Paulin BRAMBLE AND PASSION-FLOWER. 339 it's just as certain as fortuitous events can be, that that young lady agitates warm sentiments to that dog's master." I' Nellie's laugh rung out now with uncontrolled merriment, and she ran away from Thomas that she might enjoy it to the full. But her eyes were opened to what she had never l, . suspected, but was indeed true. Miss Pauline Delane, a young Louisianian, of French de- scent, full of life and gayety, with a sprightliness of mind and manners that gave animation to a rather plain face, had come to Truro in the train of Charlotte Gaylord, and was captivated with Rupert Lee's good looks. With all his knowledge of men and horses, 'he had none of women, and fell an easy victim to the fascinations of the charmer. She- suited him. She was rich. Rupert was in love; at least anxious to secure love, and 'made gentle by the seeking it. This turn in affairs was fortunate for Nellie. It relieved her of the necessity of entertaining Pauline, who, as the only young lady visitor, would have fallen especially to her lot; and it saved her from the wearisome effort to find or make amusement for Rupert. From this tijle she gave up the special charge she had over him. But Rupert and she knew each other now, and never could be indifferent to each other as of old; howheit, he could never appreciate her or "her like," as Thomas remarked. i} page: 340-341[View Page 340-341] xxxiY. XXXIV. WBe bs-t teeM ZW;tR-bIh ^ftftirate. "If it prove so, then loving goes by haps: Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps." SHAKSPEARE. PERRY SEYMOUR had promised his friends at Truro, a his friend the Rev: James Stryker, that he would prea his second sermon after licensure (the first he owed to t church, of his mother's and his own membership), in t Cedarville pulpit. The promise was fulfilled on the fil Sunday of June: the very first Sunday that succeeded N Stryker's demission of the pastoral office. Perry, with his fiee, frank, and sociable ways, had mad himself acquainted with and a favorite of the villagers, in h boyhood. All came now to hear him. The tavern one more was closed. Tim Whittaker, Steiv Ball and thei crew, went to church as in old time, but with anl air of self consciousness and sheepishness, as if unused to the thing an suspicious of the comments of their neighbors. The sermons which the Cedarville congregation heard tha day, were of the kind which George Herbert commends ii the Country Parson : The character of his sermon is holi ness; he is not witty, or learned, or eloquent, byt holy.' They were simple and devout in matter and manner. They were impressive and effective. They afforded no indi- THE ROSE-TREE. 341 cations of more than ordinary talent in the preacher, but they showed more than ordinary piety. The hearer felt a pleasure in listening, that could not easily be traced to 'its : cause; nor could he tell why it was that his eyes moistened with tears, or his heart throbbed with affecting emotions. As for Nellie, she for the first time in her life (she was not given to tears) cried in church. What made her cry, when. there was nothing to cry for, she did not understand, but she could not help it. Yet when she left the church, and heard. every one commending the young minister, not in set and customary phrases, but with genuine warmth and affection-. ate sincerity, she could hardly help laughing aloud for joy, and her face shone as brightly as ever the rippling waters do in the dancing sun-light. "I did like your sermon, Mr. Seymour," exclaimed little Hetty Hughes, at the church-door, her face beaming with childish simplicity and frankness; ShIe had seldom probably heard a sermon that she could like, for the lack-of compre. hension. Perry returned her smile with one as frank and heartsome, and gave her a kiss in the bargain. Helen ling- ered till he passed on; and then she kissed Hetty too; and i then she found herself crying again. What was the matter with her this morning? She took the shortest way to Truro across the fields, lest some one should remark the traces of tears on her face, and as she went, she found herself repeat- ing and applying to the young preacher, as she had often done to dear Mr. Poole, an odd stanza from a Lay of the Kirk and Covenant. "And yet again so simply clear, The Gospel message thou could'st speak, "* *' .IThat childhood's heart--and childhood's ear,. Gave heed in comprehension meek; !i' page: 342-343[View Page 342-343] 342 THE ROSE-TREE And many a soul long dead in sin Felt stirrings of now life within I And learned to count all gain a loss That stood between it and the cross." The next day Perry was waited upon by Mr. Graves and Mr. Hughes, to request him, in behalf of the Session, to supply their pulpit during the summer. This was earnestlv seconded by all at Truro. Mr. Lee was careful to impress upon him that, if he accepted, Truro must be- his home. He promised to remain that week, preach the next Sunday, and then give a decided answer. He must think about it he said, and consult his friends. The rest of that daylhe spent in his own room, ostensibly for the purpose of writing letters. In reality, he spent more time in thinking than writing, with many an earnest and importunate appeal for Divine guidance. That which embarrassed his decision could be uttered to none but to the Heavenly Father. He decided to stay. I-elen was running up stairs, after dinner, and Cesar was coming down with his hand filll of letters that were to go to the post-office. Accidentally her fan struck the letters and scattered them over the stairs. She stooped down to help Casar to pick them up, and save his old back. "How many were theie, Casar?' "Don' know, Miss Nellie. Mr. Seymour gave me most, he gave me four; and there Were--one, two, three, four-- I guess six others." ' 'Perry gave you four. Well, here's one of the fourl" as she recognized the handwriting, and read a name to which D D. was attached. Beside it lay another, in the same hand- writing, addressed to Mrs. Seymour; and another to M:r rL A ND ,THORN-BUSH AFFECTIONATE. 843 Sickles; and another, the longest of all, for it was more bulky than any in the whole handful that Caesar carried, to Miss Cynthia Stryker! Helen's heart sickened. "Here, Caesar, take them, quick " and off she ran, in no amiable frame of mind. "So, then, Cynthia Stryker must be con- suited in reference to this iequest of Cedarville church!' "A letter for you, mniss," said one of the servants, about a week afterward. Helen read the superscription. It was a mistake. The letter was addressed to the Rev. Perry Sey- mour, in a feminine hand, and post-marked from the town which was now indellibly stamped upon her memory as the place of Cynthia Stryker's residence. She threw the missive down on the table with repugnance, and went in search of the servant to rectify the mistake. Perry met her at the N door, and handed her the letter she sought. Where is mine?" he asked. She pointed to the table; and, hardly aware of her own purpose, watched to see what reception it would meet with. Perry took it up, read the address, and smiled (she thought) aI smile of pleasure. From that day Helen sedulously avoided, with a feeling of horror, examining the address of any of his letters; and as they were nulnerous, because of the hosts of friends he always had, she did not know but that he and Cynthia wrote t;o each other by every alternate mail. At least 'she was sure that there was cause for her worst fears. There was r;omething between them. Helen could not forgive Perry for fancying Cynthia Stryker. It lowered him in her esteem. Neither could she forget it. She tried in vain not to think about it. "Why should I care ." she would say to herself; "it is nothing to page: 344-345[View Page 344-345] 344 TiE ROSE-TREE me, save as I desire hi. happiness; and if lie is happy, I do not know why I should vex myself about it!" Nellie did not know every thing. Insensibly her feelings modified her manner toward Perry. Cynthia was ever between her and him as a separating me- dium. Free, cordial, and simply affectionate once, she grew now reserved and ceremonious, just as she would have been had Miss Stryker been visibly present, as she was invisibly as a third party at their interviews. It was "Mr. Seymour," instead of Perry," and he fell back on '"Miss Lee," in place of the endeared diminutive "Nellie." Only once and a while the ice melted between them, and they found them- selves talking in the old familiar way. Sometimes, too, when Perry coniversed with others, and his fresh and vigorous thouglhts were uttered with a fluent and unstudied eloquence that few conversationalists attain all remembrance of (ynthia faded from her mind. In church she was never troubled with that ugly recollection. There Perry was indeeld himself, and commanded all atten- tion to himself and his theme. After such seasons, the question would recur with redoubled force: "How can it be 2--so good, sensible, and gifted--how could he be caught by that weak, uninterestinfr, and unrefined girl?" She could only palliate it by the surmise that Cynthia's reputation for extraordinary piety had attracted Perry, who, as other good men have done, fallaciously judged piety alone essential to. a minister's wife. "Poor Perry!" she would say, "may he never discover his mistake!" Another thing puzzled her: Why was Perry so incom- municative? .Why did the name of Cynthia never escape his lips, in the most confidential moments This she inter- AND THORN-BUSH AFFECTIONATE. 345 p preted as an evidence of diminished regard for herself. He did not feel toward her as in old times. Thus the breach widened between them, and rendered her ever more distant, and him increasingly formal. Of all at Truro, Mr. Langdon Murray was Nellie's most S esteemed friend. But he did not have her all to himself this summer. She was now a young lady; not less a child, nor more a woman, than she was the last summer, but recog- nized as one that was " out," a full-dressed lady, arrayed in the height of the fashion by Emma Darling's sisterly care (so far, at least, as Helen's simpler taste would allow), and entitled to her place in all schemes of entertainment, and the consideration of her opinion in all matters of family ar- rangement. Beautiful exceedingly, sprightly and rich, she was, of necessity, an object of universal admiration, and the victim of particular attentions. lThe circle at Truro was select. Helen attracted the best. Mr. Murray's heart often fluttered when he saw how Helen was attended. But still he could say to himself that he was preferred to all. The summer at Truro was spent in more agreeable and less gay and frivolous amusements than preceding summers had been. Helen gave a tone to the home-circle it had never had before; and Mr. Seymour's presence in the family was felt for good. There were prayers now, morning and evening; Mr. Lee was always present at these devotional services, and even Rupert was sometimes attracted, if not by serious tloughts, then by the presence of Pauline Delane. On Sundays, the Truro pews were always crowded. But pleasant summers must come to an end; so did this. It ended with a pleasant event, the acceptance of a call to the pastor- ship of the Cedarville church by the Rev. Perry Seymour. 15* page: 346-347[View Page 346-347] 346 TL HE ROSE-TR EE "Kitty White has just left here," said Mrs. Hughes to Helen, when the latter called to see her one day. "Well?"Helen responded, inquiringly, surprised that Mrs. Hughes should communicate so trivial a fact. "'She had just come from Mrs. Stryker's," Mrs. Hughes continued; "she is to. make a new silk dress for. the old lady to wear at Cynthia's wedding.," "Indeed!" said Helen, peevishly. "Mrs. Stryker told her Cynthia was to be married next month to a young minister, who- has received and accepted a call to a village church." "Does Kitty know," Helen asked, "that Mr. Seymour in- tends to accept the call here, and is to be ordained next month?" "No." "I am glad of that, for she will not spread the report through the village that Cynthia is to marrys Mr. Seymour. He must wish to keep it a secret, for he has said nothing about it at Truro." / "How strange!"Mrs. Hughes exclaimed. "Are you sure he has not told your father?". "It has been in confidence, if he has. Does not Kitty suspect Mr. Seymour " ' Yes; she has some suspicions, for she remembers those old visits to. the parsonage, and Bill Jenkins, the clerk, has let it out that letters have passed through ,the mail between Mr. Seymour and Cynthia. But Kitty likes him so much and Cynthia so little, that she won't. believe it. Mrs. Stryker, too, mystified her by saying that she could not recall the name of the minister Cynthia was to marry. Kitty thinks the old lady would not have told her part, unless willing to tell all." AND THORN'-BUSH AFFECTIONATE. 347 "That confirms the fact that they wish to keep it a secret," said Helen. As if she could not remember the name of the man her own daughter was to marry How absurd." "It seems so: but not less absurd than their keeping it so secret," said Mrs. Hughes. "It is the only thing about Mr. A'!'r Seymour, except his marrying her 'at all, that I do not !:t!/ . ^like." There was a moment's silence. Helen was -the first to speak. "We can not have every thing our way. .I am thankful, for my part, that we are to have such a pastor; and for his sake, I will try to like his wife." A conclusion in which Mrs. Hughes heartily joined: and they talked each other into a degree of amiability toward Cynthia Stryker which neither had felt since her name was first coupled with Perry Seymour's. Yet Helen had a sober expression on her face when she rose to depart. Mrs. Hughes looked after her wistfully; and did not return, on parting with her at the door, to the parlor, but turned her steps thouhltfully to the green-house, and stood for-a long time, hardly knowing that she did so, looking at the flowers on the japonica-tree: and then she went up stairs, and prayed that grace might be given cwhere God best knew what grace w as needed. The ordination services were solemn and, interesting. With open hearts the Cedarville people received their young pastor. On the afternoon of the same day, Perry and Helen sat together on the piazza at Truro. Fully and freely he con- lided to her his fears, hopes, desires, and determinations as a page: 348-349[View Page 348-349] 3i48 ' THE ROSE-TREE minister of Christ. It was a pleasant conversation; such an one as they had not had in a long time. There had been a brief pause, when Perry remarked, casually, "I shall leave you for a fewdays. I am going away to- morrow." Helen's heart leaped to her throat. "He is going to tell me, she thought. To hide the expression of her own face and avoid the necessityof looking at his, she caught up a newspaper, which lay open on, the settee beside her and be- gan to read it. But what was it she saw?. Her eye was riveted to one paragraph. She tried to speak; but, her voice, beyond her control, issued an incoherent scream. "Miss Lee! Helen! Nellie dear, what is the matter?" asked Perry in alarm. But she was faint now-faint with hope, fear, surprise, she knew not what. She held the paper to him, pointing with her finger. He read aloud, "Married, on the 'd inst., by the Rev. James Stryker, D D., the Rev. Simon Stalker to Cynthia, daughter of Mr. James Stryker, Senior, of Cedarville, N. Y." Perry read it very deliberately, and then looking wonder- igly at Helen, asked, "What in the world is there in that announcement to ex- cite you so?" She did not answer. She only fixed upon him a shrutin- izing gaze. He was entirely calm and unmoved, save for' astonishment and evident concern for her. "Nellie, dear Nellie, what is the matter with you? Are you insane?" he asked, with increasing distress and per- plexity. AND THORN-BUSH AFFECTIONATE. 349 Still she did not answer. She only looked less steadfastly at him, and drew a long breath. "Nellie," and his voice lowered, as a possible suspicion crossed his mind," did you ever know this Mr. Stalker?" "No." ' -F "Then please tell me why this unimportant item of news should agitate you?' He had thrown his arm around her to support her, she was so pale. She leaned upon him and burst into tears. "Oh, Perry, I thought-I thought-- - "What?" he asked, encouragingly. "That you were engaged to her," she whispered. Perry Seymour could hardly believe his ears. He laughed and he scolded, he was amlused and provoked, by turns. He drew out of Nellie all the circumstantial details which had induced her belief. He explained them, one by one; and they explained some things to himself which he had never understood. , . page: 350-351[View Page 350-351] XXXV. "For scarce my life with fancy played, Before I dreamed that pleasant ilrein--' Still hither thither idly swayed, Like those long mosses ill the stream" ALFRED TENNYSON. anHE student , tso!tay in his room, how fondD and forlornly his heart yearns for home.--Not the wild. rollicking college-boy! ie has his pleasures, exhiarating and obliviating. emy at times suffer a twinge of home- sickness: but it is only a fitful mood. Do not believe the letters, good credulous mothlers read over and over again. They are forgotten as S00o as written. :ie is happier at college than at home, a hundredfold. He will pester you to the extent of endurance before the next vacation is over, for the re want of something to do; and you will be glad, and he, too, when he goes back to college again.-The good boy, who goes to college, or the theological seminary, to study and does study; who spends the whole day and even- ing too, in study, save a demure walk by way of exercise, or a sedate visit to a class-mate by way of keeping uj acquaint- ance---look in upon him at nights and behold a victim of chronic heart-home-disease' The evening wears away while he pores over his lessons; Perhaps a knock at the door has A BLIGHT ON TIE ROSE-TREE. 351 announced a fellow-boarder. He came to borrow a book, and immediately retired, leaving the room lonelier for his brief intrusion. Or he was a good young man who came on pur- i pose to have some profitable conversation on the subject ofP personal religion, which resulted in making them both dis- : i satisfied, discouraged and uncomfortable. The good young man has taken his leave. . The task is finished. The solitary -; tstudent picks up the wicks of his oil lamp, to make it burn brighter; it smokes, and he picks the wicks down again. He turns round to the stove, gazes through the smoky isinglass on the melancholy glow of anthracite and thinks of-HOME. How the picture starts out before him all aglow in- the light of fancy. Mother, father, sisters, brothers, chance visitors-just where they sit, what they are doing and !- what they are talking about-what a tableau-vivant! How bright by contrast with himself and his own surroundings Then he seizes his pen and writes the long letter, which it is such a bother to read and more to answer, but which mother will have read more than once and' worries about till it is '1 answered. A little short answer it gets, signed, "In the very greatest haste, your affectionate sister." But the solitary ( student reads it over and over till he knows every dash and H dot, and feels so sorry that dear sister, with her headache and her! visitors and her mantuamakers, took the trouble to write to him: and in an excess of magnanimity sits down and begs her not to do so again. Thus Perry Seymour, when. he was solitary of nights, in college or seminary, used to sit and think and dream and love. And when he had thought of his mother in her little parlor, taken an excursive flight' up stairs to Mr. Sickles in the attic, and followed Miss Van Home from garret to cellar page: 352-353[View Page 352-353] Coo - A BLIGHT ON THE ROSE-TREE. in her search after work--ald had no sisters to think about, and no brother that he cared to think long about--Zhat wonder that he thought of Nellie Lee, the nearest to a sister he had ever known, only nearer than any ister could be- what wonder if, next to probvicing for his mother's comfort, Nellie was the conspicuous object in the vistas down the future which used to open before him-what wonderif, in the long letters which he wrote, there was a great deal about Nellie--where she was . and how she was ? and a multitude of questions his mother could not answer and which were meant simply as tender sentiments, not to be answered Or what wonder was it, that Perry was glad to see any one who, in any way, was connected with Nellie-if it were only Cyn- thia Stryker, who came fi'om the same pretty village of Cedarville--or, that Ahle went very often to see Cynthia, just in hopes of hearing something of Nellie, and would sit for a whole evening, to get the information he did not always like to ask for! And what wonder, we might add, if Cynthia should regard such frequent and long calls as edece of her own powers of attraction ! Miss Stryker, happily for Penry's modesty was fond of talking about the Lees. She had long budgets of news con- cerning them, after every return from Cedarville, and seldom received a letter fi'om Bedminster Parsonage, that did not contain some allusion to Truro and its family. But there was poison in this gossip, where Perry sought honey. The Strykers ill mudted the first suspicion into his mind that there might be a bar to the intimacy with Nellie which had been allowed in childhood, They described the Lees as proud and haughty, gay, worldly and irreligious and fond of money. No one could get into their good graces A BLIGHT ON THE ROSE-TREE. 353 but with a golden wedge. Nobody in the village was good enough for them, but George Hughes and his wife; and they were' tolerated only since they had become rich. Nellie they conceded, was a good child. But she was tainted with pride, and what would she not become under the influences ji which must inevitably affect her? With her beauty and wealth, she would make a great show in the world,; be drawn into the vortex of fashionable life, marry some rich man, and, like the rest of them, give herself up to worldliness. These surmises Perry did not estimate above their value; still there was enough ground for them to make him uncom- fortable. There was cause for fear that Nellie never could . be his; that he must admire her, if at all, at a distance. He i now first perceived that poverty is a dark, dark shadow on some features of the social economy, if wealth is a great cor- . rupter; and could appreciate the wit of the clown, "No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am. poor, though many of the rich are damned." Money, or the want of it, was the source' of more direct troubles than this, imaginary one, to Perry Seymour. His mother, after years of struggling, had managed to pay off the debt she had incurred when she first took and furnished a large boarding-house, and had accumulated her first thous- and dollars in the bank, when Albert's folly and extravagance precipitated her into new embarrassments. He had got hold of a law case, which, could he only go to England and insti-. tute certain searches in the records of laws courts and old church and town registers, would be, according to his repre- sentation to his credulous mother, the affluent source of his fortune. He must pay his own expenses, for his clients were page: 354-355[View Page 354-355] '"3 ' A B] IG HT ON THE R OSE -TREE. poor. It was lucky for him that they were, and could not employ some great and distinguished lawyer. He would however, remunerate himself handsomely out of the immense estate which was to fall into his hands. Should he not suc- ceed, which was. impossible-but should he not, lie would immediately return, greatly improved in the knowledge of the world, with the distinguished reputation of having been t sent to England on most important business, and with the loss of a, few'hundreds only to his motlher, soon to be made : UP by the start in life wlhich this affair would give to her son., So he reasoned, and his mother fondly believed. Albert went. The thousand dollars was soon expended. Things were in train, he wrote; to save what was already in- vested he must have more money. Another and another thousand dollars went to England, borrowed money, to be paid with interest. In the mean while, Albert diversified his wearying labors by a pleasure-excursion through France Italy, Switzerland and Germany; and, on his return to Eng- land, found miatters in a delightful state of forwardness, and only needing another thousand dollars to bring them to a successful issue. This new demand met a prompt refusal and peremptory orders to come hoame; which extorted from1 the young jurist the confession that he was iii the hands of creditors, and could not get away short of a thousand dol- lars. The third thousand was sent, and Albert Seymour, Esq., returned to America as a distinguished lawyer who had made the tour of Europe, and seen the world. These facts Perry suspected, but did not ascertain, fully about the time that Albert was expected home. His resolution was at once taken: he would seek by teaching the means of aiding himself and relieving his mother. The Rev. A BLIGHT ON THE ROSE-TREE. 355 James Stryker offered him a situation in the Cedarville school. It was accepted conditionally. Perry agreed to escort Miss Cynthia' to Cedarville, and give his final answer i It was ascertained about the same time that Mrs. Stryker needed Cynthia's assistance in the care and management of ; so large a family; and Cynthia consented to become a per- i manent member of her brother's household. Affairs were in this posture, when Perry received a char- acteristic letterl from Mr. Sickles, entreating and commanding , him to embark immediately for :England, on most pressing business, in which Mr. Sickles" personal welfare was deeply concerned, and insisting that he must remunerate himself for1 the trouble by spending a term at Edinburgh and a year in Germany. Perry suspected that the "pressing business" was got up for his special benefit, and vainly endeavored to de- dine the responsihility. Mr. Sickles' pertinacity would not be refused. Perry had to go; and he accompanied Miss Cynthia to Cedarville to announce the fact. Perry's heart beat when the stage came in silgt of Truro. What a splendid place it was! What a baronial aspect the , fine old mansion had, in the far distance, resting on the slop- ing hill-side behind its extensive park! What an air of aris- tocracy hung -around it,! Perry could measure the altitude of such things now; and he wondered at the presumptive i hopes which he had once cherished. His eye was on the gate that opened into the main avenue, long before they reached it. He saw a gentleman on horse- back dash up to it, and, without dismounting, stoop down, open and shut it, and disappear. A moment after old GCesar came in sight. Then Nellie came and turned her horse under the green boughs, and stood waiting for the stage. page: 356-357[View Page 356-357] Lou A BLIGHT ON THE ROSE-TREE. How he wondered ifit fwere Nellie, before near enough to be sure ! How his heart bounded wlen' he knew it was she ! And what a vision of loveliness-- vision only, as she must .ever be to him--so gloriously beautiful, the sun-light danc- ing one her curls, and a holier light joyfully beaming from Not a word was spoken till they reached Bedminster Par- sonage. Perry was in a dream. Cynthia was busy bowing her hatful of ribbons at every house and every person. There are brother and sister !" exclaimed Mliss Cynthia. They stood at the gate, ready with a double welcome. Mr. Seymour, hardly yet awrakened, assisted Miss Cynthia to alight, and was about to resume his seat in 'the stage. His purpose was to leave his trunk at the tavern, and make his own way back to Truro. But Mr. and Mrs. Stryker would not hear of it. He was, they hoped, to become a member of their family, and must, by all means, stay with them now, especially as matters of importance were to be talked over. He was helpless. Had he been sure of a wel- come at Truro, he would have resisted. -But the poison of suspicion had infected-his mind. He doubted w hether a poor candidate for the inistry, son1 of a boarding-house keeper, would be a welcome guest at Truro.. . Mr. and Mrs. anld Miss Stryker and MIr. Seymour sat down almost immediately to tean. The forty boys had had theirs an hour before. "We saw Helen Lee," rem a'ked. Miss Cynthia. "On horseback," quickly responded Mrs. Stryker, "and a gentleman with her. She passed here just before you came. I saw her dodge round the poplars by the church, and won- dered what she was after. D irectly Mr. 1Muray c ame riding A BLIGHT ON THE ROSE-TREE. 357 0' by, and passed right on toward Truro, without seeing her. I guess she was sorry, if she did want to trick him. Our cook's sister is laundress at Tluro, and if what she says is true, she 's flirting with that Mr. Murray." "Who is AMr. Murray ?" asked Cynthia. -"Mr. Langdon Murray. They say he's immensely rich. H:e.'s very good-looking and, Mr. Stryker says, intelligent." "Has he been here long?" "Yes, all summer. Our cook says her sister says he's desperately in love." "Does she like him?" "Oh ! she's young, and li-kes attention. But if she don't fancy him, she ought to, for they walk together and ride together enough." Perry's heart sunk. He dreaded meeting Nellie; but he, must, and the sooner the better, Possibly Mr. Lee and his family had not lost their interest in him, and, in that case, they might be offended by any lack of attention. So, as soon as tea was despatched, he put on his hat and went to Truro, not, as it proved, to return: to the parsonage that night. The first glance at INellie, the first words she spoke, so simple, frank, hearty, proved that she wais not spoiled yet, whatever might happen. And the forget-me-nots seemed an assurance that he was remembered. But how ? with friendly. interest, with sisterly Christian affection? or-ah I Mr. Langdon Murray! how captivating he was, and Perry saw with his own eyes that Mr. Murray monopolized Nellie all tihe evening. The next morning Perry hastened to the parsonage to in- form Mr. Stryker of his decision. It was due to Mr. Stryker page: 358-359[View Page 358-359] 358 A BLIGHT ON THE RO E-TREE. to do this as soon as possible. Miss Cynthila met him at the door, and showed him into the parlor. She would tell her brother. Directly she came back. tHer brother was en- gaged just then-he would come in half an hour. The half hour passed, and another one. Miss Cynthia had brought some new music with her; she asked Mr. Seymour's assist- ance in reading it; her musi6al accomplishments were not great, his were. For an hour he stood bending over the piano, with his usual patience and good-nature, relieved only for a few minutes by Kitty White's brief call. Wearied, at last, he suggested a walk in the garden, and after prom- enading from the house to the gate, and the gate to the house, for another half hour, Mr. Stryker made his appear- ance. WThat 'Mr. Seymour had to say to Mr. Stryker was soon said. But Mr. Stryker had so much to say on other subjects, and Mrs. Stryker came in, and was so bent on being agreeable, that Perry could not get away. At last, as a sort of com- promise, and to mollify the severity of their regrets in losing the hopes of his permanent residence under their roof he consented, at their urgent invitation, to return to tea. Good- nature, what unnecessary sacrifices it makes! Perry walked back to Truro as fast as he could, that he might not lose another of the precious minutes, but arrived there to find the bird flown. Miss Lee hiad gone with her brother and the children on some excursion. No one knew where. They could only tell him .the direction they had taken on leaving the house. For two hours he walked the avenue through which they had passed. At last, like a party of skirmishers at full speed; Mr. Norton Lee and the two children flew past him toward the A BLIGHT ON THE ROSE -TREE, 359 hous e. At a nmore deliberate pace, some distance behind, followed Miss Brown. "Where is Miss Helen?'" he asked. . " She and Mr. Murray are coming," was the answer. 'There was one more in the party than he had been told - of, it appeared. HeI retraced his steps to'a more secluded path, and there, full half an hour afterward, saw Nellie and Mr. Murray saunter past. She was leaning on his arm, looking up into his face, listening with eager interest. Her rich, mellow, joyous laugh floated back to him.; Sick, sad, forlorn heart! His love is hopeless, But it was right. Mr. Murray was a suitable match for Helen Lee, if--and this was a painful doubt--he had the Christian's portion as well as this world's. Perry wondered at himself for ever dreaming, in the wildest reveries of fancy, that Helen Lee, so beautiful, and with such expectations, would smile upon a poor minister, or, worse yet, a poor divinity- ; student.' The next morning a happiness was in store. for Perry that he little expected. That candle-light breakfast, that walk i down the avenue, those precious words by the stile! The old childish relations were renewed-the old feelings came back. For that little while Nellie seemed not merely with- in his reach, but actually his; just as she used to, years ago. But he was doomed to have his hopes again dashed. The ! last look at Nellie, smiling, so happily and tenderly, up at j M:r. Murray, and he bending down over her--Perry never ii could forget that. No, he must learn to love her as a 1l brother, and be thankful for her sisterly regard.. To standj between two beings who seemed designed for each other-- he would not, if he could--at least so he thought. *ta!,. * . 'i ' * * .. * ' It page: 360-361[View Page 360-361] XXXVI. Masters, I am to discourse wonders; but ask me not what; for if I tell you, I am no tree Athenian. I will tell you every ihing, right as it fell out."-SHAKE- SPEARE " N the second night after Cynthia Stryker's return to Cedarville, the second night that Mr. Seymour took tea and Mr. Graves called at Bedminster Parsonage, on that night, some half-dozen boys carried on a whispered colloquy, in a corner of the long and crowded dormitory over the school-room. Why they were not in bed, as were the other boys and the tutor who snoled at the other end of the room --why they chose to stand with bare feet on the bare floor, while the September winds rattled the windows-why they. ran the risk, for nothing, of the severe punishment which de- tection would insure-may be answered by those who can give rational reasons for a tithe of the capers cut by boys in general. Jack Smith called to Bill Strong in a loud whisper, to know if the tutor were asleep, for Bill slept next to that official. Bill answered, "Yes." Jack cried out, "Crackie, I 'm glad!" and jumped out of bed. Bill Strong, by way of illustrating the power of example, cried "Crackie!" and jumped out of bed too. Little Timothy Twinkle and three others cried "Crackie," in swift succession, and jumped out M ILDE ON THEr T II N - B U SH. 361 of their warm beds to the cold floor. There they stood, six bipeds, shivering in the moonlight-a group for Hogarth. ; I say boys, are n't you hungry?" cried little Timothy Tw inkle.' "What if we were," growled Bill Strong, "we could n't get any thing to eat." "I saw the old woman," by which respectful title Mrs. Stryker was intended, "making pumpkin-pies to-day," re- sponded Timothy Twinkle. ' Wish I had one," said Bill Strong, the old woman 'll keep them till they're moldy, before we get any." ":Wonder if we couldn't get into the pantry and help ourselves,' suggested Jack Smith. "I'll try, if the rest dare to," volunteered one, known to be not over brave. "You! I'd like to see you try any thing the rest did n't dare'to!" tauntingly said Bill Strong. "I know where the key is," put in Timothy Twinkle, who was too much captivated by pumpkin-pies to permit the sub- ject to be lost sight of. "WhVre?" all asked in a breath. In Mr. Stryker's room, hanging on a brass hook, by the window, on the left side of the dressing-table," he answered, with great particularity. "Much good it 'll do us, hanging there," was the dissatis- fied rejoinder of Bill Strong. But Jack Smith was bent upon doing something, that night; and having carefully ascertained of little Timothy Twinkle that the key was hung on that particular hook every night, when he, Timothy, was sick and was taken into Mrs. Stryker's room to be nursed, Jack announced his deter- 16 page: 362-363[View Page 362-363] 3(2 M IL D EW ON THE THORN-BUSH'. mination to invade that apalrtment and take an impression in wax of the pantry' key. All were struck with consternation at the grandeur of his temerity, which only strengthened Jack's resolution. So, slipping on his pants, lie departed on his enterprise, while the other boys crept softly back to bed, trembling lest they might be implicated in a scheme so ne- farious. Cautiously Jack Smith glided in and out between the beds and through thll passage, into wlhat used to be the up-stairn parlor, but which now was another dormitory. Here all were asleep. Jack found his way into the mnoain hall, on the other side of which Mr. Stryker slept, always with the door o)pen that IhQ might hear any noise in the boys' department. Now, however, the door was nearly closeds, and a stream of light through the crevice indicated tha th the occupants of the room were not abed. A large cloak hung in the hall close by the door; Jack: crept lbehind it, and. wrapped himself in its folds. The warmth was no less agreeable than the sense of security, should Mr. Stryker take it into his head to make a tour of observation through the entry. Jack found enter- tainment for his ears. "Looks a little particular in Mr. Graves, don't it?" said Mrs. Stryker's voice. "What?" asked ler husband. "Coming two evenings in succession," she answered. What of that?" he asked, again. "Why Cynthia is home; is n't she?" "Yes," answered Mr. Stryker, with a puzzled tone, that said he did not see what that had to do with it. "Yes!" repeated Mrs. Stryker, imitating his tone. "i ow stupid you are! Don't yon know how often he's been here MLDEW ON THE THORN-BUSH. 363 in(uiringg about Cynthia? ie 's asked me twenty times, if once, when she was to come : and now, she has come, he's been already twice to see her." Mr. Stryker did not reply immnediately. If Mrs. Stryker thouglht he still did not understand, she was mistaken. He, was only thinking the matter over and looking at it in all its aspects. At length he spoke. "Mr. Graves would be a very good match." "Yes," replied Mrs. Stryker, "suppose nothing comes of this young Seymour." "Mr. Graves is doing a good business," resumed Mr. Stry- ker. "He -could afford to be married now, right off." "Yes," said Mrs. Stryker, deliberatingly. "Seymour would have to wait a good while. T'hen that old gentleman-what 's his name?" , "Whose?" "The old man who is Seymrour's friend?" "Sickles." "'Ie 's no relation of Seymour's, you think?" "No: I believe not: but thinks the world of him." "If he's no relation, .le 's less likely to leave him any thing." "True." "Then, a minister 's not 'much of a catch, unless he has something handsome," added Mrs. Stryker. Mr. Stryker moved about the room with sudden energy. When he spoke again, it was in a sort of soliloquy, as if he ignored his wife's presence. "A professional man-fine talents-command high position -wife very respectable-occupy a field of extensive useful- ness. Pleasant for me, too--ministerial intercourse." i * , .. page: 364-365[View Page 364-365] 364 MLDEW ON THE THORN-BUSH. "Hem!" and Mrs. Stryker threw the interjection over her shoulder, at her husband, as she stood before the glass, arranging her hair. "I tell you what, he's proud and looks high. I should n't wonder, one bit, if he thinks more of Helen Lee than he need to." "What put that into your head?" asked Mr. Stryker, hastily. "See if my words don't come true, He 'll get Helen Lee, if he can." "But why do you think so?" "Think so!-I know so," asseverated Mrs. Stryker, with feminine determination to be right. "Was n't he more inter- rested in hearing about her, than he mighlt have boen? Did n't he show his feelings in his down-cast face, when he heard about Mr. Murray? Was n't he in a dreadful hurry to get off to Truro? Mark my words now: he's in love this minute with Helen Lee, or I 'm mistaken for the first time-about such a thing-in my life!" "But how do you account for his attentions to Cynthia?" asked Mr. Stryker. "Guess Cynthia's vanity made more of them than. they 're worth. Cynthia's not used to beaux." "But he saw her home from church nearly every Sunday night?" "They sat in the same pew aid went the same way. He could n't help it." "But he could help going to see her at other times." "That does look, as far as it goes, as if he liked her. Per- haps, he was lonesome and had nowhere else to go. Per- haps, he went to hear about Cedarville and Truro folks. But whatever he went for, 't was n't for love of Cynthia- MLDEW ON THE TIIORN-BUSH. 365 Would n't catch a man in love going off so early as he did, the other evening, the first chance he got; and hardly say- ing more than good-by when hle was bound for Europe, to stay years maybe, and he could n't help seeing how down in the mouth Cynthia was about it-." iMr. Stryker had nothing more to say. Mrs. Stryker, too, maintained silence, till she stood, with the extinguisher in hand, ready to put out the light. Then she spoke her last words. "There 's no mistake about Graves. He's in earnest. A practical man like him don't ask questions and come twice for nothing. He 's a good match. Pious too!" The candle was extinguished by way of emphasis. Mrs. Stryker drew the curtains from both windows and let in the streamling moonlight, opened the door wide, and betook herself to rest. Jack Smith, in the entry, holding his breath, standing till his legs ached and his bare feet were nearly fiozen, waited and waited, it seemed to him, lalf-an-hour, it was not more than ten minutes. Then, sure they must be asleep, he ven- tured irto the room. It was almost as light as day. He glanced at the bed. Frightened at the proximity of danger, lie retreated to the shadow of the window curtain. As he stood there, gazing, a mob of red hair was slowly elevated- his heart throbbed, he could hardly breathe for terror-but the sharp featured face, now revealed in the moonlight, was tuwrned away from the corner wliere he stood. "Mrs. Stryker?" A heap of white ruffling appeared and turned toward the red hair. "What?" page: 366-367[View Page 366-367] 366 MLDEW ON THE THORN-BUSH. "Are you asleep?" "No," imlpatiel ly. "I have been thinkinog--" "Well?" with interest. "It's a pity Cynthia's young affections should be crushed." "Well?" encouragingly. "Suppose you speak to her. You can do it better than I. Tell her lhat you think about Perry Seymour, and advise her about Mr. Graves." "Perhaps I'd best." The red-head and the white ruffling sank down again. Silence, broken only by the iicking watch and Jack Smith's beating heart, ensued. Five; ten, fifteen, thirty lminutes passed, and Jack did not dare move from his concealment. At last indubitable signs of sleep reassured him. Carefully and stealthily he moved to the other side of the window. The brass-look was there, but -no key was on it. The shock of disappointment almost made Jack ejaculate aloud, what he prudently did inaudibly. lle took a general survey of the room; no key was to be seen. Had he gone to Ihe pantry he would have found it in the door, for Mrs. Stryker, in her anxiety for Cynthia, had forgotten her care for pies and preserves. Jack Smith, with drooping spirits, stole back to the large ' dormitory. The boys were all asleep. Even his friends, who had watched anxiously for his return, had long. since dropped off. Little Timothy Twinkle forgot pumpkin pies, or dreamed of them.. The air was close. The boys tossing about restlessly. There was a queer hubbub of sleepinlg noises. Some were laughing, some quarreling, some repeat- ing their lessons, some snoring. Atnd Jack Smith, cold and MLDEW ON THE THORN-BUSH. 367 spiritless, got into bed, and wished/ he had not got out of it. The next morning Jack electrified the boys, who were in his confidence, with the history of the night's adventure. lie made the most of the perils he had conquered, and re- peatedt the charming conversation he had overheard, with such embellishmentss as his, fancy suggested. Lynx-eyed boys watched for visitors. Mr. Graves never passed the threshhold unobserved ; the number and length of his calls weI'r c:lrefully. noted and conmented upon. Alas! they were few and short. The united blandishments of the family failed to rekindle the brief passion which had never glowed without artificial aid. Miss Cynthia Sgrew shlarp in features and temper. The boys often smarted from her irritability. But the boys took vengeance, Scraps of doggerel, and poor caricatures in pen and ink sketches, portraying the misadventures of disap- pointed affection, were placed in Miss Cynthia's way, and de- stroyed by Miss Cynthia's hands. The" young lady grew more unamiable-tle boy, more vindictive. Could they have seen the bitter tears she shed over their poor insults, they would have pitied her, if boys' can pity. As it was, she became increasingly an object of aversion. There was delight in tormenting her. Emboldened by success, and gallecd by some new act of tyranny on her part, they concocted a pastoral poem, in which they ventured, from mere hints and innundoes, to such plain allusions as could not be misunderstood. The miser- able attempt to ridicule and lacerate her feelings was suc- cessful. Cynthia's endurance was exhausted. The witless missile was carried to her brother, with the demand that the page: 368-369[View Page 368-369] 368 I ILDEW O N T n T - U S H. author be ferreted out and visited with condign punishment. Dark and lowering was the sky over Cedarville school for - many a day afterward. Mr. Stryker talked, mysteriously to all but the initiated, of insults to a member of his family. As the perpetrators could not be discovered, the forty boys suffered the pent-up wrath of the family. Tasks were in creased. Meals abridged. The slightest faults received the severest reprimands; greater ones incurred the extreme penalties of laws never lenient. And the boys, under this merciless discipline, rued the day when they had forgotten mercy. In the mean while the family wondered howthe unfor- tunate facts in the dolnestic history bad transpired. The innocent servant-woman was suspected and dismissed. But if the boys knew it, others must. Miss Cynthia imagined herself an object of universal derision. She would stay no longer in Cedarville. She would go, if only to be rid of the pestering boys. She went. The boys were glad. Mr. Graves, who always suffered a twinge of conscience in her behalf, as if he had excited expectations he could not fulfill, was glad. Helen Lee was glad. XXXVII. g2 t oset-tre e (iblt t"e + ,In-bust "O teach nme stoutly. to deny Myself, that I mnay be no longer I." FtANCIS QUARLES. ERRY SEYMOIUR, he1n he was invited to. supply the - Cedarville pulpit durlin the sulmmer, was obliged to ask sole searching questions of his heart and conscience. The day spent in his room at Truro was a busy one. Te had no difficulty in decidinlg his preference for Cedar- ville to all other places on earth. Every spot about it was endeared to him. Thle hlppiest hours of a boyhood, mostly be as useful among tem as any where. The eimbarrassing questioll was, could he trust his heart so near HelenI Lee? Might he not be led, by tempting op- portunity, to try to win to. himself what he believed of right belonged to him, but was, perhaps, plighted to another ---and what honorable sentiments towma, the family, who ,ould not wish Nellie to mary an humbly country clergy- man, should forbid him to win Nel ie's love. He endeavol- ed candidly and closely to scan his feelings; and he came to the conclusion that be could trust himself. E ai@ page: 370-371[View Page 370-371] ... ... * D .c UE I B A C Y Long had he stru lggled agaiist his love and tauht him self to regard the expectations he had once indulged as chimerical. He had tutored himself into the conviction that her welfare forbade what he might hope for. He had studied to think of her and feel toward her as belonging to another. While in Europe, he had heard through Albert that, without doubt, she was or would be engaged to Lang- don Murray. He came to rfulro and found that gentleman *ere, the privileged friend of the family. His title to re- spect and his eligibility, Perry fieeli conceded, and thought that he rejoiced in Nellie's prospect of happiness. He felt at least no envy, no jealousy. -He conqucered himself into a cheerful acquiescence. He had never ventured cdl his hap- piness on the love of Helen Lee and cotld not be deprived it by the loss of er,. His heart was fixed in Heaven. His delight was in the service of the Savior. He was sure, therefore, that he could live near her without erring his own peace or hers; and love her dearly still as friend and brother. ' n , a year or less, piobably, she would married. And then it would be alwavs pleasant to loo in her old home and sometines to see her herself. The Id, at least, make proof of himself, by this the month's 1, and then, Should he be invited to become the pastor Cedarville chulch, he would be prepared to decide. The matter, now, was virtually settled, so far as his own gment was concerned. It remained only, for form and 's sake, to consult others. Three letters, asking ad- were quickly written, folded, sealed and directed; one is mother, one to Mr. Sickles, and one to a father in the stry. Perry felt in the humor of writing that day, had nothing THF THORN-BUSH1 AND MARRIAGE. 3 . else to do, and concluded to answer a peculiar letter, received a day or two before, which needed more than ordinary care in the answering. He took it out of his pocket, read it over, i smiled as he read it, laid it down and sat for a long while in meditation. Then he tookl up his pen and wrote, with great deliberation, and elaboration too, often pausing to consider a word or sentence, till no less than five pages of letter-paperi were filled. Then he read all over, correcting here and there, folded the sheets, put them in an envelop, sealed it, address- ed it to "Miss Cynthia Siryker," and smiled as he did so. Why did he -write to her?I Because, she had written to him. Why had she written to him The real cause, he idi was too free from vanity and guile to suspect. Cynthia had never wholly yielded the hope that Mr. Seymour was a cap- tive. in her chains. She was largely endowed with the virtue of her family, prudence. And when the Rev. Simon Stalker made, her the first (and it migt be the last) decided. offer of marriage she had ever had, she resolved to test Mr.. ij Seymour's sentiments before she ran the risk of making him. miserable forever. The result was the following epistle, con-- ceived to .the satisfaction of her highest ideas of delicacy, written in the neatest school-mistress' hand and with many words emphatically underscored. ---, May -, 18-. "Mr DEAR FRIEND, "Having long esteemed you as one of my most particular friends, whose advice I would value above that of any other, I take the liberty of asking your counsel in a matter, in which happiness and usefulness are involved for a life-time. The Rev, Simon Stalker (perhaps you know him) has made i page: 372-373[View Page 372-373] 372 THE E ROSE-TREE E AND CLIBACY: proposals requiring my most serious deliberation. He has my respect and is worthy of it. But when I ask myself, if I can love hin as I could love one in such a relation, I con- fess not. My affections were long since given to another, who-but enough of that. It suffices to say that there is no probability of my ever. finding the happiness I once fondly anticipated. What I wish to ask is, would you advise me to accept an offer where I can give esteem, affectionate interest, every thing but the heart's deepest love, and by which I may hope to be placed in a situation of great influence and use- fulness? Your word shall decide. "Your confidential friend, "CYNTHA STRYKER." Perry's reply was a long, labored essay on love and mar- riage; very non-committal, so far as advice, in the case asked for, was concerned. But Perry unwittingly answered the real question Miss Cynthia wished to ask. She knew now that Mr. Seymour did not want her; and so she threw herself into the outstretched arms of the Rev. Simon Stalker. She wrote once more to thank him, and inform iim of her acceptance of the friend she esteemed and loved only less than she could love. Here the correspondence ended. When the summer ended, and Perry received the call to the pastorship, he had no need for long deliberation. The experience of three months was satisfactory. He, could love Helen without a pang that she loved another. And soon she would be wholly beyond the power of reviving old and tormenting affections. If her evident indifference to him. was ever painful, yet, he reasoned, it was better than that both should be unhappy. TIE THO R-B US AN D ' A"RIAG E. 373 But Helern' s indiffernce of maniner was not to be of longer continuanlce. Miss Stryker's marriage removed the cause of it. From tihat day she returnecd to her old way of feeling and acting toward Perry. He was "Perry" again, not "Mr. SeL,ymour," except before third parties. She talke..d with hin with all the old, childish, winsome confidence. Perry thought it very delightful. What a dear, sisterly friend she V/OS. But Perry revealed more of lis own heart's love for Nellie, in those brotherly and sisterly interviews, than he was at all aware of--fr more than was good for his peace, or hers, if he meant to pesevere in the line of conduct which he had marked out for himself. The day after his ordination, Perry visited the city to see his mother and receive her blessing. Pery wished her to give up the boarding-house and live with him at Bedininster parsonage. Mrs. Seymour would not consent. "She was in debt. Albert would be dise6ntented away from the city. Besides Perry must marry, and not have her for an incuin- brance on his household." "Mother, I shall never marry, said Perry, ephatically. "Do not say so, my child," his mother answered nerv- ously. Miss Van Horne was in the pantry at work. At this point in the conversation she suddenly made her appearance holding a spoon in her right hand dripping with sweetmeats, which she carefully guarded from the floor with her left hand. "Is Helen Lee engaged i" she abruptly asked. "Yes," answered Perry, with a smile; " at least as good as engaged." page: 374-375[View Page 374-375] 374 THE ROSE-TREE, .ETC. "And you mean never to marry?" interupted Miss Van Horne. "I do." "You shall," was Miss Van Horne's peremptory rejoinder. And she stalked back into the pantry with the air of a despot, whose word was llaw. "Perry, make no weak resolutions,' said his mother tremulously. "I will not, mother," he answered, affectionately. When Perry returned to Truro, and announced the failure of his plans for hlousekeeping, Mr. Lee insisted that he slould make Truro his home for the fall and winter. If the family were away part of the time, he could keep bachelor's hall more comfortably there than in the desolate parsonage. It would be time enough in the spring to renovate that into a more agreeable residence than it now was. Perry gratefully accepted the invitation. / , \ XXXvIII. She confessed, with her usual franlkiess, that she had no sort of dislike to his attentions; that she could even, endure some high-flown compliments; that a young woman placed in her situation had a right to expect all sort of civil things said to her; that she hoped sle could digest a dose of adulationi, short of insin . cerity, with as little injury to her humility as most young women; but that--" CHARLES LAMB. MOLIERE has put in the mouth of one of his female characters an assertion often heard, but that may have its exceptions: "Les belles, croyez-moi, sent toujours les plus clairvoyantes a decouvrir les ardeurs qu'elles causent; et 1e language des yeux et des soupirs se fait entendre mieux qu'a tout autre, a celle a qui il s'adresse." If ever there was one unconscious of her own attractive- ness, and unsuspicious of the admiration she elicited, it was Helen Lee. Accustomed always to be addressed in the lan- guage of compliment, and sometimes of more tender senti- ment, by men of the world, she supposed, in her simplicity, that such was the gallant entertainment all young ladies were subjected to. She wished they would not talk so, and she liked best the very few who did not, pre-eminefit among whom was Langdon Murray. Of Langdon Murray, however, she began to be suspicious. Others saw in his attentions what she did not, and gave their 'I page: 376-377[View Page 376-377] A L tIR EAT HEA T 1ORS DE COM AT. opinions unasked. She laughed at them. "They liked each other very much," she would say; " but there was no more in his liking than in 's." Then they would cry, "Oh " and laugh at her. At last she grew bly of Mr. Murray. 'It is foolish," she would say to herself; "but since others have put the ridiculous notion into my head, I can not get rid of it." She was sure' that Mr. Murray was not, what people called, " in love," at least with her. "Oh! no." Mr. Langdon Murray, experienced in the World, an adept the knowledge of human nature, and sensitive to Helen's slightest emotions, had read her heart more correctly than ever she had herself. tie kiew his own position in her esteem. She liked himn; but was too free and frank in ex- pressing all her liking to allow the hope of more tender in- terest. He saw that Helen suspected not his love; and he was too discreet to make a premature revelation of it, which would only embarrass her and put himself in an unfavorable position. Her manner toward Perry, the first time he saw them to- gether, and the way in which she ever spoke of him-and Mr. Murray often led her on by his own skillful tactics to speak freely--convinced him that the young divinity-student was a dangerous rival. With the magnanimity of a noble nature, he resolved never to stand between two young hearts so pure and so worthy of each other. But he likewise re- solved to let no other than Mr. Seymour carry off the prize; and, with all his wisdom and generosity, was really fostering and strengthening his own love, while he thought himself watching the course of theirs. The change of feeling and manner between Helen and Perry, after the latter became a resident at Truro, did not A GREAT HEARTr HORS E COMBAT. 377 escape Mr. Murray's observation. Something had happened, he could not divine what, to estrange them-something that had affected Helen's sentiments more than Mr. Seymour's.. He was only more formal and reserved, She was mole iny-. dlifferent. Mr. Murray's hope revived. He grew sanguine.. Helen liked him more and more, that he was sure of, and ho . almost believed the liking would become all that he desired. This opinion was confirmed when Helen exchanged a frankj familiarity for a coy reserve. This indicated some perceptiorn of his feelings, and, he thought, a womanly disposition to conceal her own. She could have adopted no method better adapted to inspire him with hope.' !jI "I am so glad I like Mr. Murray," said Perry to Helen, 1 as they promenaded arm in arm one of the avenues, on a moonlighted evening. She looked up it him with a ptz- zled anused air, which he mistook for one of affectionate gratification. "Yes,".he continued, "I do like him: and he does not seem to stand as a b bar between us, as many another man, you might have fancied, would have." "Why, Perry, what do you mean? How could Mr. Mur- ray be AbarW between us? Or what has my fancy to do with your liking?" Perry looked grave as he answered. "Perhaps, Nellie, I ought not to have spoken about him, at least till you spoke. first. The words came out without thinking. You should not mlind my talking about it." !"How unintelligible you are!" said Helen, and then itm- mediately added, as a glimmering of what he might mean shone in upon her mind. "Perry, is it possible that you can - .! e ' ' D.1 i page: 378-379[View Page 378-379] - .---. J A R T H ORS DE 'COMBAT. think there is any special fancy of mine, in whichl Mr. Mu ray is interested?".' "I can hardly believe it is your ingenuous self asking that question, ie," he replied. "Of course I do. Up to this moment, I supposed thlat matters were filly understood afnd. agreed upon between you. I can no t think so now. BLut I perceive by your attempt to mystify me, Nellie, that you would rather not talk upon this subject." Helen had tried to interrupt lim. "How man y be so mistaken! Did ever any one tell you so, or do you judge from what you have yourself seen?" "I have both heard and seen Nellie. Why do you try to- but, come, let us think of something else." He spoke with some impatience. "No," answered Helen firmly. "You have fallen into a great, strange error; and I must set you right. In the first place, M. MAurray never expressed any particular 'fancy,' as you call it, for me, and it is not a woman's part to 'fancy' be- cause she is ' fancied.' " "Sentiments do not need the expression of words," said Perry, gravely. "But he has given no expression of such sentiments as you seem to imagine." "Sentiments flow from one heart to another unobserved ie knows the sentiments of another, almost without know- ing that he knows them." "How perverse you are, Perry. You will alow, at least, that one may know their own sentiments?" If they probe deep and examine very-carefully I begin ;hin that you Nellie, are not practiced in the art of in- trospection." A GREAT HEART HORS DE COM'BAT. 379 :' I can not lelp what youl think, I know that I like Mr. -MuL ray very much, just as I like--" Me, for instance?"Perry put in, with a smile. ; "No. For we have been more intimate and longer ac- quainted." ' Your brother Norton, then?" "No. I love Norton dearly. I do not love the other: though in some things 'I ladmire himi more than I do dear *Norton." "Well, you like him as you do Mr. /George Hughes?" "No, nor as I like him either. What I like in Mr. ii: Hughtg's is his deep, manly, fervent piety. And that is the very point in which Mr. Murray is deficient. He respects religion; that is all. The life and power of Christianity'he ;i is ignorant of. For that reason, if for no other, I could never /l love hin, Perry; never! I can only like him, as a sensible, intelligent, agreeable fiiecnd, with as many noble qualities as an unrenewed nature could have." There was too much earnestness and self-intelligence in all this to permit the doubt that she did not understand her-i self. I erry was surprised beyond measure; astounded ; he hardly yet could believe her. But he felt, and reproached hinself for feeling, a strange pleasure in her confessions. Ilis own heart was swelling and throbbing' with emotions he could not analyze. He silenced them, however,; and, after a fewx moments, addressed Helen in an unusually serious manner. "Nellie, may I speak to you freely on this subject?" 'Certainly," she replied; "I wish you would; ju-st as Norton, or-as my pastor."' "I am distressed, Nellie, for Mr. Murray. You can not be ignorant of his love far you." ? * ; w } f page: 380-381[View Page 380-381] 380 A GREAT HEART IIOBS D Co Ba. Helen laughed and repeated, e playfull . the words of Jenny, in "The Gentle Shepherd :" "If Roger is nay joe, hle kens himsel For sic a tale I never heard him tell. lie glow'rs an' sighs, an' I can giuess the cause; But vha 's obliged to spell his hums an' haws? -Whene'er he likes to tell his mind' nair plain, I tell him frankly ne'er to do 't again. They 're fools that slavery like, an' may be free, The 'chiels may a' knit up themsels for me." Perry looked and spoke reprovingly. "You have such a flow of spirits, you permit then to carry you beyond bounds. Ilceed, ANelie, you should con- sider this matter more soberly. You klnow that he loves you. His love is not to be rudely slighted as many another man's might be." "Well, Perry, since you will have my confession, you shall. I never should have suspected that Mr. Murray cared for me, in any other wNay than I care for him, if others had not said so. And though I havo lately thought it barely possible, I have not believed it, and do not believe it now. But since you are so sure about it, I will try to act with un- common sagacity and prudence. I do not know, I am sure, what I am to, do, or not to do, in the matter; but I will try to find out." "Oh, Nellie, can you not return his-." "Would you have me marry one who is not a Christian?" he interrupted. "Ah! they--that is, Christian men who could aspire to our hand--where are they? Will you find one nearer the rpe, so worthy your esteem and confidene, as---" A GREAT HEART HORS DE COMBAT. 381 "Come, come," and her laugh poured out too musically for Perry's heart. "I have no intention of being courted by proxy. Let us go into the house and have some music. They will wonder where we are." The sudden change in Helen's mlanner toward Mr. Sey ' *mour, and the i'eturn of the old intimacy between them, did not escape Mr. Murray's observation, any more than the i fact that he himself was shunned. What did this. betoken? Could it be a little natural coquetry? He could hardly believe that of Ilelen. But some affirmed that coquetry i was instinctive in woman's nature. He chose for once to 'f believe the scandal. At any rate, he had permitted his own. heart to become too deeply interested to recede. Peace andi happiness for a life-time were at stake. :; The time when he must leave Truro was approaching. He could not leave without certain knowledge of his fate. He must declare himself. He did. lie caused Nellie more poignant distress than she had ever suffered from any event in her life. For himself,' he went away hopeless. And the next news heard of Mrl Langdon Murray at Truro was, that j he had sailed for Europe. . -' , Ndg!'i : : - ' * * * * ^I page: 382-383[View Page 382-383] XXXIX. ' "Oft expectation fails, and most oft there Where most it promises; and oft it hits Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits." SHAKSPEARE. Perry Seymour, Mr. Murray's sudden departure needed no explanation. He was as sorry for Mr. Murray, as for himself would allow. He could deceive himself no longer. His love to Helen was what it had 'ever been. The secret conviction that she vas Ais of ri.ll, So lOg sifle, revved with new powier. There was no insuperable bar between them. She was free and she loved him; he knew it; and she knew, it, too, Her r.le readiness to confide to each other every thought and feeling; the intense interest in each other's welfare ; and the craving of each for the other's approbation, were not, as they had supposed the result of early and long acquaintane, but of early, Ion and devoted love. This, new knowledge of themselves af- fected their manner toward each other. By avoiding the meeting eve and the answering look, each told the other that the secret was known. But Perry's happiness, was not unalloyed, What was he to do? To stay at Truro, and not declare his love, were impossible. To take advantage of the kindness of that A 83U- ) D E N (G U S T. 383 house to win : daughter-would they regard that as right and honorable? He could not stay. He must be frol under that roof, beyond the intimacy of the domestic circle at least, and then they'micght discover his purpose and op- $ pose it, if they pleased. The day after Mr. Murray left, Perry followed Mr. Lee 1! into the library. II have changed my plans, sir," he said;" and have con- eluded to take up my abode at the parsonage." More unwelcome lews Mr. Lee could hardly have heard; for he had consented to Mrs. Lee's remaining at Trui-o dur- i ing the winter, while Helen should be consigned to Mrs. Darling's care in. New-York. But 'if Mr.- Seymour lef;t I Truro, either Mrs. Lee must sacrifice her preference, or Mr. ILee must consent to abide a prisoner at home. It iwas, therefore, with ill-concealed vexation t}hat he put the ques- ; tion : I i"What has induced this abrupt determination?" . "I deem it best," was the unsatisfactory answer. Mr. Lee bit his lip. The desire to find some one to quar- rel with induced his next question. ; - "Has any thing occurred on the part of my family that ' makes you anxious to leave my house?" Perry hesitated, and then answered: Nothing in the way of unkindness, sir." i '" 1 dislike mystery," Mr. Lee exclaimed, impatiently. "in the present case, it is the more offensive, Perry, because you are my pastor, and the son of my old friend; and because,: t it seems, there is some fiult in my own family which you wish to conceal." "I did not mean to convey that idea. I disclaim it, o,'.** '. * - ,{ ',' iI page: 384-385[View Page 384-385] i" iu v . Vi N LG U S T There is no fault, Mr. Lee--no fault in any one as to t matter. Please do not press me further.. You would ap- prove of y m otlires, but they are of a nature not to be disclosed. Perry had supposed his leaving Truro, or remaining tihere was a matter of comparative indifference to all but himself was not, therefore, prepared for the expression of so much feeling on Mr. Lee's part. It embarrassed him; and this determination of hMr. Lee's to learn his secret, produced a agitation that was manifest in his voice and face. Mr. Lee observed it, and tookr advantage of it. At anv other time he would have shrink from asking wlhat was not freely told. But being angry, and having convinced himself that some member of his family was guilty of some special offense, he was determined to knlow the worst. "You are agitated," he said. "Something has happened. I must know what it is. I insist upon it." Perry was silent. .His face agrlow, and his eye bent upon the floor. Mr. Lee spoke again less imperatively. "You are in trouble, Perry. Surely I, as your finend, your mother's friend and your host, mnay clain yoUr confidence. .Pe'haps you will find me a better counselor than you imagine." Perry's habitual frankness yielded to the kind and assur- ing manner in which Mr. Lee spoke. Ingenuousiy, simply, and in a few words, he told all: how 1ho hlld Ioved Helen; had been taught in wo;rldly knowledge to esteem himself no fit match for her; had learned to consider her as cngaged to another; and had flattered himself that he had overcome his own love; but the recent discovery that she was still free to choose: and not indifferent to him, had revived his AFTER BRIGHT SUNLIGH5T. 385 affection with renewed intensity. I know," he said, " that you and your family would not wish her to marry an humble country clergyman. I could not, therefore, take advantage of yoir kindness to win her to myself. And now, Mr. Lee,' he added, cheerfully, for the burden was removed, "let -me go to my own home, before I learn to hope for what may never be."' Stop," said Mr. Lee, as Perry rose, to go. His counte- nance Perry could not read, there had been such a mingling in it of both approbation and disfavor with surprise. . But he declared himself as fi'iankly as Perry had done. " I ad- mire your candor. It increases my esteem, and assures me that there is no, one to whom I could more safely intrust Helen. You are right in your supposition that I would not choose for her the lot of a clergyman's wife. Should you be successful, I own I would be not a little disappointed. At the same time, you have my full consent to try. I never have, never will stand between a daughter and her inclina- tions, in the matter of marriage. Stay where you are. Win her if you can. In a few weeks she will leave for New York.' Let there be no correspondence, no positive engage- rment; but if, at the end of a year, you are both agreed, you shall have my consent and blessing." He warmly shook Perry's hand, and they parted. When left alone, Mr. Lee's countenance lost the kindly expression he had forced into it; he was provoked and disappointed, and sq expressed himself in muttered sentences. If Lang- don Murray had revealed himself as Helen's lover, how dif- ferently would the worldly father have felt ! One thing, however, helped to reconcile him to what he had most re- luctantly sanctioned, and that was Mrs. Lee's smile of ap- page: 386-387[View Page 386-387] .*. *, a. . k 'U; T probation and real pleasure, when he repeated to her, immne diately afterward, what had passed between Perry and hin. self.. Helen entered Mrs. Lee's little room, just after her father had left it. Her mother had tears in her eyes and smiles on her face, and she kissed Helen--it was unusual for Mrs. Lee to kiss even her, she was so undemonstrative-but she kissed her now most affectionately, "What has happened, ma?" asked Helen, lardly able to refrain from laughhing at her own puzzled state of mind. "Oh! you will klnow," answered TMrs. Lee. At that moments Mr. Seymour opened the door; her mother pushed her toward him, in a' way that said, "He will tell you." Helen went with him .in a sort of bewilderment. He led her down to the stile. He took his seat by her side, just as he had done when they were children. He told her of the dreams of his boyhood, of the new. disclosures of the last few hours, and of her father's kind if reluctant indulgence. And "In her ear he whispers gayly, 'If my .heart by sif'ns can tell, Maiden, I have watched thee daily,. And I think thou lov'st me well.' She replies in accents fainter, 'There is none I love like thee.'" "Oh! Perny, how much better you behaved to me, when you supposed me to be engaged to another, than I did to you, when I thought you were, said Helen, as they found their way back to the'house by dinner-time. "Please remember," he answered, laughingly, "the higher compliment I paid you in the supposed object of your affec tion, than you accorded to me." AFTER BRIGHlT SUi LI G I T. 387 "( Ah! but I had such evidences. Who would not have believed?" was her reply. "Believe nothing too surely," he answered. "Not even present happiness?" she asked. g "It seems too great to be believed."! And with this pathetic thought, they parted in a pleasant melancholy. , For one week Helen and Perry were as happy as two young i persons in their circumstances could be. Then came clouds. i The news of Mr. Murray's; sudden embarkation for Europe i arrived. What did it mean? Questions were asked of Hel1n that she could not parry. The truth came out. He was rejected. "Incredible! absurd! shameful!" were the i!V sisterly interjections elicited by this information. "So rich, j so handsome, so well-connected, so much admired-if she refused him, what did the silly child expect?" There must be some unexplained cause for this rejection, the sisters sur- i mised. "No girl could resist Mr. Murray's .attractiveness, unless her affections were pre-occupied." This started them upon a new investigation, which resulted in a new outhurst of interjectional exclamations. Poor Helen! what assaults her Christian spirit had to sustain. The sisters and brothers, who all their lives had neglected her with careless or selfish indifference, suddenly discovered their great affection for her, concentrated their thoughts and energies upon her particular interests, and con- stituted themselves the special guardians of her happiness. Emma Darling, esteemed it. "dreadful" that she should marry a minister. If it were dear Mr. Sydney Smith Par-. sons, a man of established reputation, and high position in -H page: 388-389[View Page 388-389] 388 A SUDDEN GUST the church-she dared say, he would be a bishop yet-it might be tolerated. But a plain country minister, who never would be a bishop, it was preposterous. Charlotte Gaylord was shocked at the plebeian aspect of the case. Why, he was the ison of a boarding-house keeper'! His father was highly respectable, it was true, and a friend of their family; and his 'mother, it must be confessed, was a lady; but--she kept a boarding-house! None were more violent in expressions of dissatisfaction than Rupert Ruper rt, who owed so much to her kindness had felt and confessed her 'intellectual superiority, and had himself yielded to the tender passion, in the person of Miss Pauline Delane-or, her father's wide plantations. A par- son in the family was his abomination! He liked Mr. Sey- mour well enough in his place; had gone to hear him preach to please Helen; had entertained some thoughts of taking to religion himself; but the project of bringing religion bodily into the family, in the shape of a real minister, that was a step beyond endurance. 'Not satisfied with these home-demonstrations, the sisters appealed by letter to the three absent brothers. Harryin New-York was the first to answer. Once Perrys intimate friend, Helen's sympathetic brother, himself young, and on the verge of manriage to the woman of his choice-the daughter of a wealthy merchatlt-from him a favorable re- sponse might have been hoped for. But he had been through the mill, and come out shaven and shorn of all nat- ural and inartificial sentiments. He condemned the match asinexpedient. Helen was "too young" to judge for herself Let her see more of the world, and when she had gained worldly wisdom she would thank them for their interference. AFTER BRIGHT SUNLIGHT. 89 The letter to Robert was answered by Theresa. She held up, metaphorically,-both hands in horror; and she iLiisted on Helen's immediate removal from the scene of danger to her protecting care at Newport. Robert added a laconic postscript, the amount of which was, that " the child should be permitted to do as she pleased; but would be a fool if she pleased to make such a marriage." Norton replied in a long and affectionate epistle to Helen herself, in which, ever speaking with cautious respect of Mr. Seymour, and with gentle. courtesy of her own good judg- ment, he sought to dissuade her by an array of arguments and reasons from what he esteemed an unsuitable match. Never had there been such an excitement in the family of Truro. Like an oarsman who, once upon a time, comtpelled 1 to row a party of soldiers over a river, skillfully suffered the boat to be carried down stream with the tide, while he seemed to labor hard at the oar-.Mr. Lee, with a fair show of resistance, allowed himself to be overpowered by the sweeping current of domestic opinion that was carrying Helen far away from the haven of her hopes and happiness. He had another interview with Perry Seymour-assured him of his high esteem-but such was the youth of Helen and the repugnance of other members of the family to her be- coming a minister's wife--that, for the present at least, there f must be. a cessation of all intimacy between the two; and he concluded by leaving Perry at liberty to remain at Truro, or remove to the parsonage, as he pleased. Theresa Lee's suggestion was immediately acted upon,' and Htelen'was carried off in triump h to Newport by Mr. and - Mrs Gracie Darling, on the same day that Perry Seymour took up his lonely abode at Bedminster Parsonage. i page: 390-391[View Page 390-391] XL. . Atf . i:ti in ft angr 3Itfs. "I resolved that, like the s(nT, so long as my day lasted, I would look On the bright side of every thing.--T Iaols HoooD. ELEN met her mother's sad, helpless, pitiful look ith smile and a kiss. "Do not worry about me, dear ma," she said. "H do not mean to be miserable. = Do you not believe these our little trials areall controlled and blessed ." "Yes, my dear child," was the answer, " and 'Blessed are all they who put their trust in tHim.'" Some tears in secret Helen did weep: a few bitter tears a buoyant spirit and a fervent faith. She looked on the bright side, by the instinct (if it may be said) of a Christian nature. If sometimes pensive, she was never melancholy: and nothing was further frdn her thoughts than to?sulk and die of a broken heart, with the heroine of the boarding-school drama. On the contrary, it was her purpose to be as happy as she could be u h gse a With keen relish she accepted all that was pleasuralle in bright. s* ide, by the instin ODORS OF PIETY. 391 this first visit to Newport. The surf-bathing, the drives along the sea-beach, the novelty of life in a large hotel, and the variety of character to be studied among fashionables, would-be-fashionables and (not less interesting) won't-be- fashionables, all afforded her amusement. But if her sisters thought heri heart changed by change of scene, and took her joyousness as proof of the dbliteration of Perry Seymour's image from her memory, it was because her sisters were no more capable of understanding and appreciating her charac- ter than they were of comprehending the slpirit of Hebrew poetry. The 'winter in New York at Gracie Darling's Helen en- joyed. Her mother and father were there to make it pleas- anter. Sometimes, too, she could go to sde Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Sickles. She could not talk to them about Perry as she would have liked-'but this she cared less for, because cousin Hetty Hughes' letters gave her full information con- cerning the young pastor. To Emma it was a cause of no less surprise than regret that Helen did not delight in. the society of the Rev. Sydney Smith Parsons. He was as perfect a minister as the united. genius of a tailor, a posture-master, a popular lecturer to literary associations, and a Romish priest who cculd repeat scraps memorite: from the fathers, might be supposed to pro- duce. His performance of the service of worship was at least extraordinary. Milton described the Rev. Sydney Smith Parsons, when he wrote of the priest who "conned his motions and his postures, his liturgies and his lurries, till the soul by this means of overbodying herself bated her wing apace downward; .and finding the ease she had from her visible and sensuous colleague the body, in performance * '- page: 392-393[View Page 392-393] 892 O DO RS 'O ?I E T Y of religious duties, her pinions now broken and flagging shifted off fronm herself the labor of high soaring any more and forgot her heavenly flight." One visit to St. Cruciform church sufficed. Helen would not go again. While the rest of the family went to admire and be melted into ecsta- cies, Helen and her mother, sometimes escorte by her father, sought for edification in the more obscure church 'which Mrs. Seymour attended, and where, in place of ele- gant essays on Christian virtues, the Gospel was preached, which tells not only what goodness is, but how it is to be, obtained through the grace of a Divine Redeemer. Going to church with the family was not the only thing' she would not do. She had a will of her own, and asserted it on occasions with an inflexibility and a good humor that obtained for her the reputation of amiable obstinacy; yet she was neither obstinate, nor, in the popular sense, amiable; but had the opposite qiualities which belong to an impetu- ous, high-spirited, and generous nature. But as she laughed at remonstrance and ridicule, and yet would not go to the theater-and would not go to the opera-and would go only to such concerts and parties as she could approve, her saga- cious friends classified her with that species of humanity that is known as the amiably perverse. If there were amuse- ments to which she could be induced by no methods of per- suasion or coercion, it was not because of prudishness, prim- ness, moroseness, or sedateness. She liked gayety; liked it even better than she approved it. She was willing to enter into it within rational limits, and was sorely tempted some- times to pass beyond those indefinite boundaries. And she. was, by unanimous acclamation, the most joyous-hearted and joy-inspiring of the family. IN' STRANGE PLACES. 393 The next summer was spent in traveling and visiting water ing-places with Robert and Theresa. In the fall, they were joined by Mr. and Mrs. Gaylord, and after a long tour through. Canada, Olio, and Kentucky, and visits to Niagara, the Lakes, and& the Mammoth -Cave, they arrived at last at Mr. Gaylord's plantation, where the ensuing winter was passed. Southern life presented an entirely new phase of human- ity to Helen's observations. Slhe liked it amazingly in some features. The warm, cordial, frank simplicity of Southern manners attracted her as like does like. But she was brought in contact only with the gayest and least religious, and while she formed friendships and attachments as fervent as the Southern sky above her, she, if the truth be all told, admit- ted into her heart some as life-long aversions. This winter Helen was Pauline Delane's bride's-maid and saw her brother Rupert assume the life of a planter, to lord it over the slaves to his heart's content. Poor Rupert! He was greatly improved, and regarded his beautiful sister with vast respect and admiration. But she feared the effect of the Southern atmosphere (physical and sociaD on such a disposition as his.' Why was it that her mother's son had. not the first idea of religion? That Helen had forgotten the young minister, the sisters, felt sure. How else could she enter with so much zest into' the 'scenes around her. Yet she smiled upon no admirer. Young and old, learned and grave, rich and gay, had ac- knowledged her fascinations, without exciting one tender sentiment in return. The conquest, they hoped, remained. for Langdon Murray. Their plan had succeeded to admira- page: 394-395[View Page 394-395] tion so far--it only needed now the presence of the discarded lover to be complete. The wish to bring the two together was suggestive of a European tour. What prevented Theresa was always ready to take wing, Robert was com- plaisant, and Helen herself delighted with the prosect of gratifying the desire of travel and siglt-seei^n whici birns in every young and enterprising nature. The early Spring j! found Helen, Robert, and the tireless Therlesa aail en route. There was a rapid journey to New York, a brief meeting with relatives and friends, and a tearful ellbarlkatiol, for voyages undertaken for pleasure, like many other pleasurable things, begin and end with tears. England, Scotland, and Ireland were explored, and the travelers arrived in London in time to attend a state ball and be presented at court. * The second day after their ar- rival, Mr. Langdon Murray left his card. Theresa was de- lighted at the happy chance which had at last brought him and Helen to the same locality. That evening he called again. Theyr were at home. The meeting, but for a shade of embarrassment at the first instant, was cordial. It was evident that the pleasure was mutual. For a week Mr. Murray attached himself to their party; and he and Helen seemed to be on their old terms of unrestrained friendship. Theresa indulged extravagant hopes, which were doomed to speedy disappointment. Mr. Murray and Helen Lee under- stood one anoter. They were only the best of friends. 'Brother Robert will you take me to the great 'neeting at Exeter Hall to-day " asked Helen, one morning. "No," answered Theresa, quickly, "I need his services in another direction. Mr. Murray will gladly render his attend- ance upon you unnecessary." IN STRANGE PLACES. 395 . Helen laughed as, she answered, for she knew what con- sternation the answer would cause. "Mr. Murray, sister Theresa, is somewhere on the Channel." Theresa's look of blank amazement was answered by Helen's nerry laugh of am usement. "He left his respects, for you and Robert last night and was very sorry not to see you to say good-by." Theresa was too much provoked to make an audible corn- nment. One or two interjections received an angry half-emis- sion from her lips, such as ' insane!" "weak!" "silly!"Her disappointment was too real not to affect Helen's sympathetic nature with a touch of sorrow for her, and coming up to her., she whispered in her ear these words. ' Dear Theresa, I am no more the cause of his leaving 1' than I was of his coming here. He understands perfectly y that we are only friends." He had not been again rejected. This was some comfort, and left still a cranny for hope to shine through. Theresa re.- covered her spirits. Another project soon captivated her vol.- atile heart and for a time banished Mr. Murray from her thoughts. The American minister at the Court of St. James was no other than the grave senator, with the heavy, pas-- sionate, thoughtful eyes, who, some four years previously, had felt the influence of Helen's attractiveness, and now yielded himself without resistance to the power of her womanlJr beauty, goodniess and intelligence. An ambitious woman could riot have refused the great and world-renowned states- man. But Helen Lee was not ambitious, and was annoyed, more than flattered, by the distinguished attentions Which rendered her disagreeably conspicuous. Could she have fol- lowed her own counsels, she would have fled from London -, , S page: 396-397[View Page 396-397] 396 ODORS OF PIETY and avoided the society where the great man could come. But Theresa, like every worldly woman, was dexterous in management,. fertile in expedients. Her own heart was set on the match. She would not believe that it could fail. She left the door of approach open. She gave the en- couragement to the suitor, which Helen withheld. She per- severed, till a formal offer met with a prompt refusal; and with the disfavor of both parties for her thankless interfer- ence, she at last yielded to the conviction that Helen was an impracticable simpleton. A felicitous conclusion for Helen's future peace and exemption from her sister-in-law's maneu- vers. The affair with the minister hastened their departure from England. Two months were spent in Paris 'and three months in Switzerland. Every locality of interest was visit- ed; every wish, or whim, leisurely gratified. Restricted by neither time or money, they traveled, or tarried when, how, or where they pleased, and as summer approached again, they turned their faces northward, passed through the Ger- man States, and extended their travels to St. Petersburg and parts of Norway and Sweden. It was fortunate, that acquaintances were found in all the large cities they visited, for Helen and Theresa seldom cared to see the same sights, or engage in the same amusements. Their tastes were as opposite as their principles, and both were often in conflict. Helen would not go, on Sundays, to witness splendid masses or splendid military reviews, or any thing else purely secular : and she cared not, on other days, to visit masquerades and theaters, or examine and buy-costly fabrics in the shops. She did like, even in Paris, to seek out Protestant churches, and make herself acquainted with the IN STRANGE PLACES. 397 views and habits of humble Christian folk, such as she saw at the Sunday meetings, and found on week days in the little shops of the Bazaar, or the ateliers of work-women. She delighted in paintings, statuary and architecture too; but these Theresa had seen over and over again to the excess of ennui, not having as much taste that way, as for the pattern of a new lace, or costliness of a new bonnet. It was often, therefore, necessary that 'Theresa and Helen should each be provided with a special escort: and, strange to say, Robert was ever willing to be H:elen's, and Theresa never reluctant to accept of some other. Robort and Theresa liked each other as much as was fashionable. He humored her, she admired him. As for love, there had never been much, and, on her side at least, there was not much material for it 'to grow upon. A plain- looking, superficially-educated, ill-disciplined girl, fond of dress, gayety, and good living, she had continued through the long years of married life, the course begun in youth, utterly thoughtless whether there might not be a more ex- cellent way. A mother, who could separate herself for years, as she had done, from her son and only child, and not feel (happily, indeed, for the son in this instance) that the highest privilege of the mother is to watch over and develop the character of her child. --what great good was to be ex- pected from her? Her hujband gratified her tastes more than he participated in them, and was patiently'led about by-her whithersoever she wished to go. But Robert Lee was capable of appreciating better things. There was an undeveloped part of his nature that his worldly wife never reached.. Helen did. Attracted by her beauty, ]her spirit, and her genius, Roberts brotherly interest in his page: 398-399[View Page 398-399] 398 ODOUS OF PIETY sister soon grew into exalted admiration. He could not now as when she was a child, give her a toss in the air and a kiss, and then forget all about her Iie had to study her to feel her influence, and to yield to it. Had Helen known the power she had acquired over him, she would have been startled; and yet more astonished to learn that her true artless, but vigorous piety had won its way to his heart, had led him to think, had made him an attentive listener to the sermons he had escorted her to hear, and had induced him to read the Bible his mother had given him, which, from filial affection, he always carried with him on his travels, but heretofore, alas! had carried unread. The second winter in Europe was to be spent in Italy. At the close of a warm afternoon, after a day's journey ren- dered more tedious by accidental delays, they arrived in Florence. After dinner, Robert and Theresa sallied forth to have one look at the Campagna. Helen preferred spending the evening at home. They had hardly gone; and she, re- clining upon a couch, was just losing herself in dreamy sleep, when a courier presented himself before her, with a card in his hand. She took it. It was Langdon Murray's. Something was written with a pencil under the name. She carried it to the light and read the words, traced in a feeble hand, "Please come immediately." The courier gave her the needed explanation. Mr. Murray was very ill,. Had been watching for their arrival for several days. There was hardly a prospect of his living through the night. He was sensible now-in an hour he might be ravingagain. HHer resolution was soon taken. She called her maid, and the two started out together under the adventurous protection of IN STRANGE PLACES. 399 this unknown courier. He had provided no carriage-none was to be had without the loss of much time. Through the dim-lighted streets, often jostled in a crowd-rudely inspected when there were few idlers on the path-they walked on, it seemed to Helen, for miles; at last they came to a palatial residence, from one single window of which a light streamed out from the half-drawn curtains. They passed up marble stairs, through dark corridors, round sudden corners-the inaid tightly grasping H'elen's arm, and trembling from head to foot in imaginary terrors-Helen herself laughing and scolding at her apprehensions, and yet feeling the un- comfortableness and awkwardness of their position-till at last the room from which the light had been visible was reached. Dim the light was, and hardly illuminated the im- :mense apartment sufficiently to show that the dark object on the other side was a bed. While they still stood hesi- tating, a black figure arose from the side of the bed and came toward them. He uttered a joyful cry as he recog- nized Helen. It was Mr. Murray's long-attached servant. "Have they come, Simon?" asked a faint voice from the bed. The servant put his finger to his lips, and returned t;o, the 'bed. "Have they come?" the sick man asked again. "Who?" inquired Simon. "Mr. Lee and Miss Lee." "Yes. They are in Florence. Miss Lee is here, will you see her now .?" "Oh, yes,"/and the invalid raised himself in the bed and looked out into the dim light of the room, but unable to see any one, fell back again on the pillow. page: 400-401[View Page 400-401] 400 ODORS 0F tPIETY Simon moved the light to a little table near the bed and placed a chair by it for Helen, and then beckoned her to approach, talking all the while himself, as if to occup and prepare the sick ma's mind for the interview. 'You will get well, now, sir. But you must not talk too much. Miss Lee can not stay long. She and her brother will both come to-morrow and not; leave you again till you are well sir. Here she is, sir. Here is Miss Lee." Mr. Murray had closed his eyes, and with the languor of sickness, seemed to be indifferent even to that presence which he had so craved for. But no sooner did he open his eyes and see Helen's face, than his own lighted up with a smile of pleasure. Her few questions were briefly answered. He was ill of fever. Had been sick thlree weeks, was better now, but hope- less of life. The severity of the fever had abated temporarily, but the disease was not removed. "What can I do for you, Mr. Murlay?" asked Helen, commanding her feelings, that longed for the relief of tears. He took from under his pillow a Bible and put it into her hands. "Tell me, Helen," he said, with a voice rendered strong 'by earnestness, "how a sinner. may be h saved. Read to me til proof of what .you say from that Book.", Helen trembled now with an agitation, the cause of which she could not define. Her thoughts were confused, she knew not what to say. That man, who had so often turned with indifference from the words of truth--in all other things- excelling all-did he now ask instruction' and seek to be a learner of her ' IN STRANGE PLACES. 401' While she still hesitated, he spoke agail. ' For the firsi; time I feel the need, which, you say, the Gospel supplies. I, never esteemed by others, never adjudged by myself a sinner --now suffer one, single, absorbing, fearful conviction of guilt, awful guilt before God. Nor 6an I discover a ground of assurance for the world to come. Reason, nature, conscience give me no hope. Tell me if the Bible does" , The solemn deliberation with which he spoke, the earnest entreaty with which he implored light, helped to carn Helen's mind and enable her to speak to the point. With the sweet, childish simplicity which characterized all she said and did, she repeated the blessed doctrine of forgiveness through a Divine and atoning Saviour. She turned to chapter and verse for the proof of her assertions. She grew animated and earnest as she proceeded. There was elo- quence in the faith and love with which she pleaded for Christ with the sick man's unbelieving heart. At first lie interrupted her constantly with questions: then; he became silent. As she grew more earnest he wept. And when she ended, he besought her to pray with him. At another time she could not have complied with such a request. Never had she uttered an audible prayer in the hearing of any human creature, since her infancy. But now she did not hesitate. Nor was it an ordinary prayer of well ordered words that she pronounced .by that bed-side: it was the soul's wrestling' with the angel of the' covenant for another soul's salvation, in thoughts and intercessions of the Spirit's inditing. " Oh, Helen," said the sick man, when she had finished, "I do commit myself into the hands of that Redeemer, but page: 402-403[View Page 402-403] 402 ODORS OF PIETY. I have no evidence, none that I can discover, of His accept- ance of me. I thin I understand it now. I think I see that what my dear mother believed, and you believed is not the unsubstantial, mystical, unsatisfactory vagaries I once thought. But my mind is dark. My heart heavy. Leave me now: and come again to-morrow." Helen retired from the bed-side and looked at her watch. It was past midnight. Three long hours had she been in that room: she could hardly believe it. Now, first, it occu'- red to hert that she had left no word for her brother, when she so unexpectedly came away from the hotel. She would not venture again into the street without him. A nmes- senger was dispatched and after another hour returned with Robert. The sick man in the mean time had become restless. They could not leave him. Before morning broke he had intrusted his last earthly wishes to Robert Lee's friendly care; and with composure, at least, though with no bright assurances of hope for the future world, he had yielded up his spirit into the hands of Him who gave it. v "T am bold to say, that the work of God in the conversion of. one soul, considered together with the source, foundation and purchase of it, and also the benefit, end and eternal issue of it+ is a more glorious work Of God than the creation of the whole material universe."--JoNATi-N EDWARDS.' THEY were on the ocean. Robert, who had seemed de- J pressed in spirits for some time past, was sitting with his head on the bulwarks, his whole attitude expressing a state of mental uncomfortableness. Theresa sat beside him, with. a face expressive half of annoyance and half of anxiety.' Helen came on deck and approached them. "Here; Nellie," said Theresa, rising from her seat, "do see if you can not cheer u-p Bob. I have rattled on for an hour, telling all the nonsense and repeating all the jokes I could think of, and he has not rewarded me with a single smile. There is witchery in 'you. Do try your hand now and put some life into this dull relative of Theresa spoke, good-humoredly, but was not sorry to yield her seat and retire to the cabin. Robert did not move, nor seem to hear what his wife said. But he permitted Helen to take his hand in hers and pressed hers in its grasp. llm ih afc epesv afofanyne bn page: 404-405[View Page 404-405] 404 THE LOST FOUND. "Dear Robert, can I, do any thing for you . she asked. "You, if any one," he replied. "What is it?-are you sick?" "Sick? Yes. Not in the body though." "Your mind then is distressed about something. Please tell me-frankly what it is." He .moved closer to her and turning his face so that the side of it rested on his hand on the bulwarks, he looked directly in hers-oh how pale and sorrowful his face was --"Nellie," he said, "you are a Christian if there ever was one; can you not guess what is the matter with me?" She did not answer. Her heart was throbbing too violently. "Will you not tell me what to do?" he asked, with a pleading voice. "Look to the Saviour. Ask Him," was all she could say "Have you a Bible a." "Yes." "Where?"' "Here." He toolk from his pocket his mother's Bible. Helen marked, on the blank leaf, references to the third chap- ter of St. John, the fifth and eight chapters of the Epistle to the Romans, and the fifty-fifth of the Prophecies of Isaiah. "Read those chapters," she said," in the order specified. Read them again and again. Ponder them and pray for light to understand them. The first will show you what is necessary in the creature in order to salvation. The second, the plan revealed in Christ for salvation. The third, the security of those who are embraced in this scheme. And the last -u th;hs THE LOST FOUND. 405, ' the freedom and fullness of the invitation to come to be saved." "Thank you," he answered, taking the Bible. Having at- tentively observed the marks, he placed the volume in his pocket and waited for her to speak again. "Dear Robert," she said, "you must yourself carry this matter directly to your God. He admits no priests between man's soul. and Himself, save the great High Priest. In tis name, but with your own heart, your own lips and your own words, pray for light, faith; penitence and acceptance. And forget not, dear brother, that prayer is not a mere thought, or wish, or emotion framed in the heart. Prayer is the actual and formal offering up of desires, in the way of asking, and in uttered words, unto our Heavenly Father. You can not answer the ends of prayer by a few devotional thoughts, or a hasty repetition of words, as you sit here on the deck, or lie in your berth. On your knees, with deliber- ated, earnest and repeated entreaties, you must ask, if you would receive. It is here, brother Robert, that -the pride of man's heart, more than woman's, too often rebels." "Dear Nellie," he exclaimed, as if his, thoulghts had been more upon her than on what she said, "how is it that you, with the example of all your' brothers and sisters to misleadc you, have turned out so good 2" "Do you forget our dear mother's example?" asked Helen, reproachfully.. "No, Nellie. But mother's influence was never of the pos- itive kind. She used to try to'talk to me, in my childhood, but always broke down and ended with, 'be a good boy.' Once I was sick: she thought I was asleep, and she kneeled down beside me and offered a prayer. It was very brief and page: 406-407[View Page 406-407] ZV"U THE LOST 'O UND. she seemed frightened at herself, good, dear, diffident mother! it was so unlike her to attempt any thing of the sort. But that prayer made a deep impression upon mne. From that time I have indulged an undefined hope that some day that prayer would be answered. Mother's influence was good, Nellie, but not decided. It made none of the rest of us good, and I doubt if that alone has made you so. "But there was Mr. Poole's influence, Robert; did you never feel the effect of that?" "Yes," he answered.; "once at least. He met me in the village street; and he sat down beside me on a large stone, and talked with me. I could not answer him, but I felt all he said. And when he left me, I ran home as fast as I could, hid myself in the bushes and wept, and, I believe, tried to pray. That excellent pastor, howeve;, was not brought into frequent or intimate contact with us; and we were under too little home-influence to render his occasional admonitions of much avail. 'Was there no one else, Nellie, to talk to you, instruct you, and help you?" "Yes," she said; " there was one to whom I owe more not only in a religious sense, but in all good respects, than to any other person on earth. You have heard -me speak of Mrs. Hughes-Cousin Hetty, I call her?" "The wife of the tanner, who has become rich, and made the tannery such a pretty place?" "Yes." "The little girl, who has been a sort of school-mate and. play-fellow of my Robert, is their child, is she not?" "Yes. Mrs. Hughes was my Sunday-school teaeher. I: took a great fancy to her from the first, and she always en- , TH I LOST FOUND. 407 couraged me in it. She has been my friend and counselor; and her piety, and that of her husband, first led me to seri- ous thoughts on religious subjects. I hardly know how it was; a word now and then spoken to me, or said in my presence, led me to think. I soon discovered, though I had the vanity to suppose myself very good, that they had some sort of goodness that I had not. This puzzled me for ad good while. I read the Bible a great deal; I listened atten. tively to Mr. Poole's sermons; and at last I learned that the root and source of their' goodness was-a simple, child-like trust- in the Saviour of sinners. And that, Robert," she concluded, by saying, "is just what you must have to -be good and happy." "Trust in the Saviour!" he repeated, deliberately. "Such as you are, Nellie, may trust Him. But not I. He must repel me. I have been reading His life. How pure and exalted His character! How broad, deep, searching, and comprehensive His expositions of duty! How peremptory his commandments! No, Nellie, lovely and lovable as Jesus Christ is, He can not receive such an one as me. My heart is sometimes in an agony!" Tears' rolled down his cheeks. Helen wept with him. "How long have you felt as you do now, Robert " "Do you remember," he answered, "'the sermon of the French colporteur in the little thatched-cottage in the village of E-- ? You insisted upon spending Sunday there rather than travel on that day, though Theresa and I op- posed it, the inn was so uncomfomtable. On that Sunday., while Theresa amused herself by attending mass in the chapel, you dragged me to that little conventicle of peasant Protestants and converted Romanists. Do you remember t" page: 408-409[View Page 408-409] 408 THE LOST FOUND. "Yes; that was a year ag-o." "Yes; and since that day I have never known what peace was." "Dear Robert, how strange that I never suspected your state of mind. It only proves how bad and frivolous I am - Had I been half as intent in doing God service, as I have been in sight-seeing and self-gratification-"' "You would not lhave done me half the good you have," interrupted Robert. "Iad you betrayed any set purpose to convert me, you would at once have provoked the suspicion that you were acting for the sake of effect. You would have put me into an attitude of resistance, and afforded me the opportunity my wicked heart desired, to doubt the reality of Divine grace in the formation of your character." Helen shook her head doubtfully, and asked him to state the particular views and feelings which had affected him. "Let me begin at the beginning," he said. "I have told you how mother's prayer affected me; and how Mr. Poole, once at least, touched a tender chord in, my heart. But I was sent to boarding-school, became the associate of wild and thoughtless boys, and never had another serious thought that I remember till about a year before my marriage. Ac- cidentally, in the city of New York, I made the acquaintance of a young girl, more like you in character, Nellie, than any one I ever knew, except that she was not so decidedly religious, I think. Her piety was simple and artless, often expressing itself in pretty sentiments, unconsciously dis- covered in words of deeper meaning than the superficial would discover. This it was that attracted me toward her. She fascinated me-me a worldly young man, she an unsophisticated girl. I never fully understood how it was; unde stood how it was/ THE LOST FOU ND. 409 except that I felt and admired in her the beauty of a Chris- tian and child-like faith and practice. She, gay and full of mirth, never, I am sure, suspected -how deeply her unde- signed words and acts of piety affected my heart and con- science. I used to go to see her and talk with her, as often as' I could without exciting remark; for she belonged to the lower walks of life, though herself refined and intelli- gent. I thought if I could only be brought permanently under the influence of such a character as her's, I might be- come a Christian." "No human being could make you that!" interposed Helen. "No. I know that now. But to proceed with my story: I was married and came to Europe, and after my return could find no trace of Hetty--for her name was Hetty, too- her father had died, she disappeared, no one knew where, and from that day to this I have neither seen nor heard of her. Drawn into the whirl of gay and fashionable life, re- ligious duties and interests have be^n expelled from my thoughts. An occasional expression in Roberts letters of late years-God bless you, Nellie; for what you have done for my boy!-has made me at times a little meditative; but it is to you, Nellie, that I must attribute my actual re-awak- ening to concern for my immortal welfare. I never knew you but as a good, pretty child, till you became our travel- ing companion. Since I have known and loved you, Nellie, I have been compelled to serious reflection. The sermons we heard together in London, Scotland, and Ireland, from those earnest preachers of the Kirk, gave tone and direction to my thoughts. But that sermon of the colporteur in E---- reached my heart. What was purely intellectual 18 page: 410-411[View Page 410-411] "O T'E LOST FOUND. before has since become a matter of experience, of feeling. The intensity of my distress has gradually increased, and is sometimes acute beyond my power to tell. The words of the Bible burn into my soul. Oh, Nellie, how bitter, how awful is sin! Once, accidentally, I took up a life of the missionary Brainard, and happened to turn to the narration of his fearful convictions of guilt. I thought. at the time the whole thing was farcically exaggerated, and I smiled at the simplicity of the writer who could venture to publish such crude absurdities. But now I know it was true. I understand it. Aid I understand how a stern, brave Romnn hero, one moment about to take his own life to save his honor, could the next moment, trembling and agitated, fall down at the feet of his Jewish prisoners, and cry out in an- guish, 'Sirs, what must I do to be saved? ' "Remember, dear Robert," Helen interrupted him to say, what answer the jailor's question received. 'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.' That very night, Robert, yes, on the instant, he complied, and with joy received the sacrament of baptism. You may believe and rejoice now." "Come, you are growing melancholy together," exclaimed Theresa, who had approached them unobserved; "I shall have two moping relatives, instead of one, at this rate." "Oh i Theresa," exclaimed Helen, jumping up, and lead- ing her away, "I want to show you how beautifully the water sparkles in this bright sunlight." She led her to the stern of the vessel, and made her promise not to interfere with Robert, but leave him to her management. Many were the conferences between the brother and sister on that honmeward voyage. Theresa looked on in amaze- / ' " THE LOST FOUND. 4" ment. "Bob reading the Bible and Nellie preaching to him," was beyond her comprehension. But she knew that her husband's distress of mind was of no ordinary kind, and that Nellie's words allayed it; and she kept her promise, save for a surprised ejaculation now and then. They tarried in New York but one night. How beautiful Truro appeared even in its winter dress. Could it be more than four years since Helen had last seen it? She shed so many joyful tears at the sight of the old place, that she hardly had more to weep on her dear mother's bosom. "You shall never leave us again, dear Nellie. There has been no sunlight here since you went," said her father, affec- tionately. "Where is our Robert 2". asked Theresa, throwing herself into the easy embrace of a large chair. "He is in the green-house; 'he can not know of your ar- rival," was the answer. "Won't you call him, Bob?." she said to her husband. He crossed to the dining-room and entered the green- house. He heard voices at the other end. He made no noise, that he might surprise his son. Suddenly he stood still, transfixed with surprise. Whom did. he see? What recollection came back so vividly? Surely, it was his old friend, the flower girl, talking to his own son, just'as she used to to himself! "Hetty," said young Robert Lee, "what do you like the flowers most for?" "For what they speak of God aud Heaven." "Hetty," said young Robert, again ---"Hetty Hilll" cried his father, stepping up behind him and facing her. page: 412-413[View Page 412-413] "2 'THE LO S T FOUND. "Why, father!" exclaimed Robert, springing round. And Hetty, startled, dropped the japonica she had just picked from the tree that overshadowed her. "' My dear son," said his father, pressing him for an instant in his arms. "But who is this?" he quickly added. "You called her, Hetty- " "Hetty Hughes, father; you've often heard me speak of her." "Hetty Hughes--and so like Hetty Hill," he said mus- ingly. "My mother was; Hetty Hill, sir," she said, looking up, smiling. "Is it possible!"He could hardly recover from his sur- prise; but finding the young people's curiosity excited, he commanded himself, and said, playfully, "Hetty Hill's daughter must let me kiss her. Come," he added to Robert, "your mother demands your'welcome, sir." "Have you brought aunt Nellie, too?" eagerly inquired Robert. "Yes, indeed. And you, Miss Hetty Hill-Iuughes, I mean, must come and be introduced to her." "Oh, sir," said she, laughing, but taking his offered arm, "we have known each other as long as I can re- member." "Nevertheless, she does not know you in the character in which I shall introduce you." And so saying, he escort- ed her, puzzled enough, into the oak-room. "Come, Nellie," said her brother, the morning after their arrival, "you must take me to see your old friend and mine, Mrs. Hughes." { THE LOST FOUND. 413 "You must consent to the short cut then, by the lots and over the fences," Helen replied, after a moment's hesitation "Why " he inquired. "' Because I will not go any other way," she answered. "You must have your will then, I suppose." Man-like, he never surmised that Nellie might dread meeting in the street some one whom she would rather see for the first time elsewhere. Mrs. Hughes had heard of the arrival: but, not expecting her house to be invaded by the back-door, was sitting in the dining-room, looking out of the window from time to time, to see if Helen were not tripping up the garden walk. Helen smuggled Robert into the parlor, opened the dining-room door softly, and had her arms around Mrs. Hughes' neck, be- fore the latter was aware of her presence. "Cousin Hetty," asked Helen, after their first affectionate greetings were over, "why did you' never tell me. that you knew my brother Robert?" The question was asked very earnestly, and tock Mrs. Hughes by surprise. "Why-' she stammered a little, "are you sure I never told you?" I "Yes, indeed. You fiever did. And he remembers you so well and with'so much interest.!' "Does he 2'? asked Mrs. Hughes, with some embarrass- ment. "Yes, indeed, he does; and he is in the other room now, crazy to see you. Come--" "In the other room?" said Mrs. Hughes, as if she could not credit the words. "Robert Lee in the other room, and wants to see me!" page: 414-415[View Page 414-415] "4 THE LOST FOUND. "Yes; and will be tired waiting. Cousin Hetty, what is the matter with you? You seem to be completely mystified. My brother Robert, who calls you his old friend, is in the other room, and if you do not go quickly to see him, he will come in here to find you." "Oh! he must not come in here," said Mrs. Hughes, in- stantly rising, and casting a fidgety look around. at the vari- ous evidences of housewifery that disordered the room. "But wait a minute, Nellie. Is my cap just right?" She turned to the glass, and took a general survey of her dress, picking off little shreds of thread here and there. "Yes, Cousin Hetty, your cap is right, and very becoming, too. 'How young and pretty you look to-day with that bright color in your cheeks. Come," and she hurried her out. of the dining-room and into the parlor. Robert Lee would not have said, as Helen did, that Hetty Hughes looked young, though he would have 'confessed to her prettiness. Could that be Hetty Hill, the little, slender, rosy flower-girl? now a rather stout, dumpling figure of a woman.! He could not repress a smile. She, too, afterward smiled at her own astonishment, when Robert Lee was pre- sented to her in the person of a rather elderly gentleman. Whatever embarrassment she had felt in the expectati6o of seeing him, all vanished at the actual sight of him. He was not the Robert Lee shel had known as a gay, handsome, fas- cinating young man. This Robert Lee, the gentlemanly, sedate man, with a generous sprinkling of gray hairs on his head, was quite a new acquaintance. Long and pleasant was their talk of the old time. Robert was touched at the account of the death of Mr. Hill, the rare old philosopher, as he had always called him. Mr. Leo TIlE LOST FOUND. 415 and Mrs. Huohes were mutually charmed with each other, and cane neairer falling in love with each other than when they were yoaug. Ato hed, indeed, was Cousin tty, when Helen after- ward told her how her religious influence had been felt by' Robert, at a time, too, when she hardly esteemed herself a real Christian. v page: 416-417[View Page 416-417] Ortaga IIts/'s v. gwtl,. XLII. "Few rightly estimate the worth Of joys that spring and fade on earth; They are not weeds we should despise, They are not fr'it3 of Paradise; But wild-flowers in the pilgrim's way, That cheer, yet not 'protract his stay-; Which he dare not too fondly clasp, Lest they sholuld perish in his grasp; And yet may view and wisely love, As proofs and types of joys above." ANONYMOUS. DREARY seemed ]3ldmilster Parsonage, when Perry Seymour first took possession of it. Drearier for the sudden and violent contrasl with Truro, where a perpetual succession of events, a nunerous and lively family, and what- ever could gratify the eye, or please the taste, contributed both to. excitement and enjoyment. Here were only solitude and silence. Yet the parsonage intoned with his present state of mind. lIe liked it , He fancied especially the old school-room and dormitories. 'Their stripped, desolate ap- pearance, and the hollow ecllhoing of his footsteps as he paced the uncarpeted floors, fbll in with and seemed an outward re- flection of his 'own soul, barren of every hope that had beautified, and' naked in its'poverty of all that could impart pleasure. k -, 6RANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTLE. 417 The other part of the Iouse. retained the furniture which ]had adorned' it in lMr. Poole's day. It was old now and shabby, but it answered iis purposes. A woman of all work, who was willing to serve him under the respectable name of housekeeper, completed his domestic establish- ment. We can get Used to some things; and Perry got used to his way of life. It had its advantages. He could study without interruption ; devote himself to pastoral labors; and save money, by the economy of his housekeeping, for the mutual benefit of his mother and his library. So wedded had he become to the habits of a recluse, that when Mr. Sickles, one bright spring day, made his appearance at the parsonage, and announced his intention of staying there several days, Perry was almost sorry to see him ; and when Mr. Sickles insisted upon painting the house, transforming the unsightly school-room into a, library, planting out new trees, and renewing the old flower-borders, Perry was really annoyed; he would rather have preserved the comfortless air around and within the habitation as congenial with his own forlorn humor. "Flowers!" he exclaimed, with disdain, as Mr. Sickles s'tood with hoe in hand directing and assisting in their arrangement, "what use, what propriety in putting them here' 2" Mr. Sickles made no direct reply, but repeated, as if to himself a pretty version of Ruckhart's lines: "The flowers will tell to thee A sacred mystic story; How moistened human dust Can wear celestial glory. page: 418-419[View Page 418-419] "8 ORANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYtRTLE. On thousand, moistened stems, The loved inscription's given, 'How beautiful is earth When it can image Heaven.'" Mr. Sickles would have his own way. He made many visits to Cedarville in the course of the spring and summer, and more than restored Bedninster Parsonage to its former beauty. The school-room became a grand library, with point- ed windows and alcoves and shelves groaning with books that Perry never bought. The outside appearance of the primitive edifice was improved by the addition of buttresses, between the pointed windows, a deep cornice and a heavy parapet. As seen through the trees from the street, it night be taken or mistaken for a Moorish castle. 'The length of the school-room allowed space for a smaller study beside the library; and this' study opened by loig glass doors into a green-house. Whlen this piece of extravagance was first projected, Perry strenuously objected. "Of what possible use is a green-house to me?" he asked, "And who is there to appreciate or care for these rare and beautiful flowers?". I want them for ray own gratification," answered Uncle Joshua. "'I may come and live with you yet; if I can ever afford to give up business." The long dormitory over the school-room, was change into a;suit .of apartments, bed-room, boudoir, dressing and bathing rooms. These Mr. Sicldes claimed as his own, with a jocose hint that any future Mrs. Seymour might have them for the asking. The up-stairs parlor, that had been converted into a dormitory, was reverted to its original use and newly mnd handsomely furnished; and the old study down stairs ORANGE B LOSSOMS A ND MYRTLE. 419 was changed into a bed-room. At last the hammering and painting and papering, that had interrupted Perry's studies and tried his patience, were brought to an end; and Perry found himself, against his will, the possessor of a parsonage replete with comfort, enriched with whatever could gratify the most refined taste. HHe smiled at the folly of wasting so much money and pains, and thought that he would have felt more comfortable and even happier if the place had been left in the wretched condition in whibch he found it. But Mr. Sickles understood the' philosophy of the human mind and heart better than Perry did. The cheerful aspect of his surroundings contributed to a cheerful spirit. The birds and the flowers of the green-house were society, something to think of, care for and even talk to, forming in some sort a domestic circle: and these and the garden gave him employ- ment.' They prevented his becoming dull and listless, indif- ferent to external appearances, prosaic and commonplace in his characteristics. They were accessories at least to the preservation of the freshness, buoyancy and refinement of his character. Perry, nevertheless, became more and more enamored of his quiet and secluded 'life. He believed himself to have grown into the tastes and habits of a bachelor life and looked forward to no change in that regard. During the first year he called incessantly at the Tanhery to hear news of-Helen, always careful to say nothing that might be con- strued into an intended message for her. Mrs. Hughes was equally guarded. She repeated nothing of Helen's letters which might appear, however remotely, to be designed for him. He heard only absolute facts;. where she was, how she was and how happy she was. When Helen and he page: 420-421[View Page 420-421] 420 ORANGE BLOSS OMS AND MYRTLE. were first rudely separated, he cherished the conviction that it was only for a time; they would be true to each othe, and their brightest visions should yet be realized. But as month after month passed, these dreams became more faint. Hte knew how many things would conspire to banish him from her remembrance, how few to keep him in mind. What Helen could 7not lhave done in reference to him, he was guilty of in regard to her-he doubted her constancy. By, degrees he grew into the belief that she was lost to him. He learned to look upon it as a fixed fact-to become reconciled to lt-and to school himself into the enjoyment of a single, solitary life. He gave his heart to his pastoral work, and of the blight of his earthly desires, could say, with the Christian poet, ' Come, Disappointment;/come! Though Fancy flies away Before thy hollow tread, Yet meditation, in her cell, Hears, with faint eye, the lingering knell, That tells her hopes are dead: Ani thouogh the tear By chance appear, Yet she 'can smile and say, my all was not laid here." The first intimation Mr. Seymour had of the return of the travelers to Truro, was a call from Mr. Lee and Robert, the day after their arrival. Robert was astonislied at the beauty of the external appearance and simple elegance and comfort of the internal arrangements of Bedminster Parsonage. He wondeied less when he learned Mr. Sickles's aency in the imatter. Mr, Seymour received his visitors with the slightest degree of embarrassment, that gave place, amst before ob- served, to a calm, pleasant gravity and self-possession. He SRANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTLE. 421 asked after "Miiss Lee"Wiithout revealingo by look or tone any other feeling than that of polite and friendly interes,t. Only once did he betray emotion, and that was when some expressions of Robert intimated the great and happy religious c&hange wlich his character and feelings had undergone. And when his visitors, on withdrawing, invited him to dine with the family at Truro that afternoon, lowever surprised he may have been, he evinced only a polite readiness to accept. "That man has the manners of a prince,'" exclaimed Robert, as they left the house. "He is no ordinary character," answered his father. "We have looked down upon him," continued Robert; "but I almost question whether it would not be condescen- sion on his part to accept of an alliance with such a com- monplace family as ours." "We made a grand mistake," was Mr. Lee's brief re- sponse. Helen anticipated the pastor's visit with a bounding heart; but when he came her joy was repressed. he was certainly' much changed. 'The lithe form of youth had passed, or was passing away, and increasing stoutness' gave him the appeariance of a more 1majestic height. His forehead, ap- parently, had spread into more intellectual amplitude. Gray hairs; too, were visible among the deep brown locks. He looked as if he might be thirty-five years of age, though, in reality, he was only twenty-eight. Still greater was the chcange in hs manners. He was grave, dignified, command- ing. There was still the air of ingenuous frankness, good- humor, and simplicity that had always characterized him; but there'was, too, an air of self-reliance, determined pur- pose, and entire independence of all the little issues of life, page: 422-423[View Page 422-423] 422 ORANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTLE. which were the growth of the years of experience which had passed since last she saw him. To her, as to all, he was self-possessed, polite, friendly; but that was all. His eyes fixed themselves steadily and penetratingly upon her's, for a single second, at the first meeting-whtatever they read in the clear blue depths of her own, she could only guess by an expression of satisfaction that lighted up his face. But the expression passed away, and so far as outward indications went, he was no more conscious of or affected by her pres- ence than if she were but an esteemed friend. Mr. Seymour conversed with all the old sparkling vivacity for which he had been remarkable; but there was a deeper richness and mellowness of sentiment, and a bolder grasp of thought Even Theresa felt the fascination of his man- ners and conversation; and acknowledged that there was something extraordinary about the man which impressed her with respect, and overawed her into admiration. Helen, too, had changed during these years. She looked no older, indeed, at least at the first glance, now that she was twenty-five, than she did when eighteen'; and she was even more beautiful than then. But her face showed thought, feeling, experience. She was not always laughing, as she once was; though seldom grave, never sad, there' was a quietness of manner and a fhabit of polite interest concealing the play of deeper emotions, that only associations with the world, in its most mannerly circles, can impart. If she was repelled by what seemed almost coldness and indifference in Mr. Seymour, she did- not know how much his manner was caused by her own easy and cordial reception of him, which would not let him see whether there were warmer senti- ments in her heart or not. ORNGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTLE. 423 Every day Helen learne'd to esteem the pastor more and more, for his work's sake, at leat, if not for his ow n. Cedai- ville Church smiled under the Divine blessing'; and Cedar- vile people were loud in tjheir praises of the godly minister toeugh whom the blessing cpaoe. The second day after t her ougival,she made a discovery that rejoiced her heart, and brought to her remembrance a prayer once offered in a fervent spirit. She was riding through the village on horse- back, and observing a smoke rising from Steve tall's smithy, she turned her horse up to the door and l6oked in. There was Steve, with ruddy cheeks, working away at his bellows. None but a sober man could wor- so energetically. Bad habits at least were reformed. But she had pleasanter news thanthis to learn . Steve fairly shouted when he saw her; and she would have shaken the honest hand that was ex- tended to her, if it haA been twice as black as it was. "Do you go to church, now-a-days, Mr. Ball?" asked elen, after the usual questions about his family. "Yes, Miss Helen; and I am sure you will be glad to learn that suchL a wicked critter as I was has got grace, as I hope I have. Yes, I've jined the church, Miss Helen.' And the very day I jined it, poor Tim Whittaker fell dead in a drunken fit"--tears caime into his eyes, and 'he. Wiped them off with the-back of his lhand, making a long, white streak on his blackened face--" and Tim, Miss Helen, were n't so bad a mian as I was. It; 's all owing, humanly, Miss Helen, to our minister. He would n't leave me be, nor Tim neither. He kcpt coming to see us, and talking to us, and kind of winning us over. But Tim got tired at last, and put ]him off. But H don' know how it was, if 't was n't Divine grace, but I could n't shut up my heart ag'in him. ie got page: 424-425[View Page 424-425] 424. ORANG BLOSSOMS A ND MYRTLE. hold of me with a tight grip, Miss Helen. I never did see such a man-not even Mr. Poole!" That was the acme of Steve Ball's praise. To excel Mr. Poole was just one step beyond perfection. Slowly and imperceptibly the distance between Helen and her pastor wore away. Love unconquered still bound their hearts and vindicated its claims. To her he became what he used to be; she had always been the same to him. It was "Perry" and "Nellie" as of old. Iis tenderness and child-like familiarity to her were the more delightful, because so unlike his manner toward others. To others there was a courteous distance, often assuming, the air of the triumph of a superior mind over a want of due appreciation; but to her, he was like Perry the schooi-boy, Perry the youth, and Perry the young minister. "Fatlher," said young Robert Leo, one day, "I wish to be married." "Married! why you are but a boy!" 'I am almost nineteen," he answered, with offendel pride. "Almost nineteen! Anld whom, pray, do you wish erable.", "I wish to marryn Hetty Hughes," he answered with dignity; "And she is how old--twelve?" "She is almost eighteen, father," he answered, smiling in spite of his vexation. "And, father," he continued, " e in- tend to live here, when we are married, with grand father dgrand mother, because they want us-for they will be onely when Aunt Nellie goes to the parsonage, and. be- ORANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTLE. 425 cause Hetty's father and mother-you know she is their only child-are not willing that she should go far from them." "But what will you do here," asked his father, with a seriousness that he had not shown before, live in idleness? I shall have to quote to you the saying of an old writer,' Be ashamed of idleness, as thou art a man, but tremble at it, as thou art a Christian.'" "Grandfather. says I may superintend the farming. [He is too old now." "Indeed! You and your grandfather, it seems, have talked it all over?" "To be sure we have. We are confidential friends. Don't you know that?" he replied, laughing. "Well, my son," said his father, kindly and gravely, ' I will think more of this matter." "How absurd, Bob!" exclaimed Theresa, when young Bobert had left the room. She had listened to the conver- sation in amazed and provoked silence. "You certainly would not permit those children to be married. And as for Robert, what does he know of the world?" "As mIuch as he ever will, I hope," he;- husband re- plied. "But what will the. world say, if our son- marries the daughter of a man who was once a tanner?" asked Theresa, with anxiety. "They will say a great deal, probably," her husband rejoined. "But they can say nothing that will subtract one iota from the happiness of our son in having such a wife." "Well, I am decidedly opposed to it'" said Theresa, angrily. page: 426-427[View Page 426-427] iND MYRTLE. ORANGE BLOSSO} ly disposed to it," he answered mildly. ilnd perverse you are," she retorted, in- ligioi has spoiled you. You used to do se me. Now you only care to please angry tears showed how regretful she vill find me more ready than ever to hling that is rigzt," lie said, emphasiz- e always talking about what is right! are not right now, if you nmean to let itty Hlugslies !" 1 old Mr. Lee, who had entered the iear the last remark; " we have had ly of experiments on loving hearts. standing between young people who } not try it over again. :u excpect to gladden Becminster Par- ance ?' asked her brother Robert, one .ie. and did not speak. dlemn about it ?" le asked again. Please, Robert, do, not speak of such ildea of leaving Truro. What would :r do without me in their old age?. -she smiled again, ' how very neces- !rson I am in the family ?" rifice yourself on the altar of Duty, said, jocosely. ilk about it," she said, in her cheer- ORANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTLE. 427 fullest Way, that itself said she was resolved to cast no un- necessary shadows. But he was perverse. "Suppose some one should take your place here at Truro ?"' he asked. "Theresa, for instance," she answered, with a meaning smile. " No; indeed," he replied, with a little sigh; "she never before staid so long at Truro, and is already urging me to leave. I suppose I must travel the world over. But I take a happyl heart with me, wherever I go," he added, more cheerfully, as he saw a shade of pity for him cross Nellie's face. "To come back to the old subject, Nellie: How do you think Hetty Hughes would fill your place ?" "Cousin Hetty ." she asked, in a puzzled way. "No, not Cousin Hetty, but Niece Hetty." "Niece Hetty ?" "Yes, your niece and my daughter Hetty-Mrs. Robert Lee the third." "Brother Robert," she exclaimed, incredulously, as the light broke through her perplexity, "you certainly have no idea of letting those young things get married ?" "I have. It is all settled. Your grandfather and grand- mother, and Mr.. and Mrs. Hughes, and myself, and even Theresa, on condition that I will not ask her to spend another winter here, have given their consent." " But is it best, Robert ?" "It is best for youe, at least," he said, kissing her; "and if there were no other '.best' about It, that would decide it with me. They are to be married in October, when the trees have their gayest attire on; and I would advise you to tell the minister to look after his August roses, that the par- sonage may smile in rosy hues on its new mistress." page: 428-429[View Page 428-429] - - v t A IX i YTLE. On the last day of August lhe wedding was solemnized in the church, before the crowded colngeation. I ett -Hughes was bride's-maid, and obert Lee goo Mrs. Seymour's pastor (and Perry's former pastor) officiated. The next week Albert Seymour, Esq., counselor-at-lav and gentleman, was married, to the daugliter of a Broad street parvenu. It was an attempt at fair bargaining; Al- bert receiving a fortune, and the ambitious lady purcllasinog ,hereby an entree to "' first circles," that opened their doors nore freely to the husband than they ever did to his wife. When AlBert's engfagement was announced, a year pre- ious to his marriage, Mrs. Seymour declared her intention f relinquishing the boardin g-lhoalse .But she would accept either the formal invitation of Albert, nor the pressilg- en- eaty of Perry, to make her lomewith them. Perry was ire that she intended to come and reside witl him, though awilling to pledge herself to it in a way that might render difficult for her to leave him should it ever be desirable. Poor Mr. Sickles seemed to be at his wit's end. Where ould he find a home? lHe believed he must give up siness, go into the country, and live economically. Perry's rdial and reiterated relquest that he would take permanent ssession of the suite of rooms over the library, in Bed- nster Parsonage, was persistently refused. No, Perry tst and should get married ; and his wife must not be tered with an old man to take care of; besides, did Perry ry, it would be necessary for him (Mr. Sickles) to buy keep her good will with a perennial stream of costly sents, and that wouldl eventually ruin him. Hie would therefore, live with Perry, he said, but Perry was his and he would get as near to him as he could. So he i RA N G E B L O S M-S AND MYRTLE. 42 j bouglt several acres adjoining Bedminster Parsonage, on the south side, and put up tere the very prettiest cottage ever seen, with an aviary and green-house nearly as large as the cottage itself. Perry and Helen returned from Albert's wedding in time for that of Robert and Hetty. Thle Tannery was never graced with so fashionable a company. The youthful pair j won all hearts. Even Charlotte and Emma, wiser by ex- perience, perhaps, beamed upon them with patronizing ; smiles. Old Mrs. Jay, alniost too ancient and feeble to carry the weight of diamonds that sparkled on her stout person, received the bride to the bosom of her aristocratic family with remarkable cordiality: and .even Theresa confessed that she was "a love of a daughter." Norton was present, and received Hetty to the next place in his heart to Helen, his chief pride and delight... Rupert looking rather old and jagged, and Pauline, looking pale and sickly, and Harry, with a very gruff, business-like air, and Mrs. Harry Lee, very stiff and grand as became the daughter of one rich man and wife of one still richer, were all present. Of course there must be a giving-visit at Bedminster Par- sonage, a good, old-fashioned one, to welcome the bride. All were in favor of it, and Helen delighted in the prospect of it. There was no little difficulty as to "what folks should take :" for the minister was rich now and ' didn't need much help." But it wras understood that whatever was brought, whether little or much, would be lovingly received, if it only came with love. Mr. Sickles wrote word that he hoped to attend the giving-visit, as one of the parishioners, and should admonish his housekeeper to prepare some sort page: 430-431[View Page 430-431] 430 O RANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTL'E. of a present. He could not go to any great expense in the matter, if Perry was his son, for he could not afford it, ald his pesky cottage had cost so much. The donation-party was indeed an old-fashioned one, at least as far as precious love could make it so. Arid greatly it endeared the pastor and his wife to the hearts of the Cedar- ville congregation. All had assembled: the young people were scampering about the grounds and the older had worn off the stiffness of the first arrival and ceremonious saluta- tions, when Mr. Joshua Sickles made his appearance at the gate, with his housekeeper on his arm. A servant followed them, carrying a basket, heavy with something. Kitty White happened to stand by the gate, and as the servant passed through, attempted slyly to lift up the lid of the basket, but the arm of a tall, erect lady in black satin, whom, in her intentness on the basket she had not observed, pressed the lid down again and waved reprovingly the curious Kitty away. Kitty, rievertheless, declared confidentially to a dozen firiends, that the basket was full of silver, for she saw it with her own eyes. There was some curiosity to see the house- keeper (not so much as to see into the)basket), but she kept her vail down. Perry went to meet his dear old friend. The housekeeper draws her vail aside and Perry starts back. "Why," exclaim half a dozen voices, "the pastor is kissing Mr. Sickles' housekeeper!" Helen now runs to join them and cries out before she gets up to them, "why mother Seymour, is that you?" "6No, my dear, it is mother Sickles, if you please," inter. posed Mr. Sickles. "Uncle Joshua! how could you!" Mr. Sickles was too happy to answer otherwise than ORANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTLE. 431 by a hearty laugh. Miss Electa Van Horne, however, stepped forward to claim attention, with a step and counte.. nance betraying more than 'her usual dignity and self-im- portance. "I," she said, 'with emphasis on the pronoun, " said that he should, just as I said that you should," addressing her- self to Perry. And Miss Van Horne looked as proud and satisfied as if her saying so could be proved by demonstra- tion to have brought about the double marriage. Mrs. Siekles and Perry both were pale and tremulous. "It was not my fault that you did not know,") she whispered. ' He would have it so." The first moment's agitation was soon over, and the unex- pected welcoming added another ray to the sunshine of Bed- ininster Parsonage and crowned the happiness of the as- sembled company. Mr. A mos Graves and Mr. George Hughes, the two prom-. inent elders of Cedarville church, shook hands over and over again: every time they met they shook hands and repeated exactly the samed words, "' hat a briglit, beautiful day this is." It was surprising how often one or the other discovered that the sky was cloudless and the atmosphere balmy : and each time proclaimed the discovery, unavare of the redund- ancy of their admiration of the weather. As for Steve Ball (bad habits, long indulged, had weakened the poor fellow's nervous system), he was discovered by Kitty White, sitting on the ground, under a tree, sobbing and weeping like a child, " all for joy, that the two perfectest critturs on the earth had come to Bedminster Parsonage--'t was better than if 't were Mr. and Mrs. Poole agin." Mr. Lee sat in one of the Wiindsor chair on the piazza, page: 432-433 (Advertisement) [View Page 432-433 (Advertisement) ] 432 ORANGE BLOSSOMS AND MYRTLE. watching the young people at their sports; and he remem- bered, how, once on a similar occasion, good Deacon Hayes had admonished him of the day when he would be an old man, and prayed that he might then, with tranquil and cheerful hope be waiting for the summons to an endless future. Mris. Lee seemed to read his thoughts, for a tear silently fell from her eye--but it must have been some sort of joy that sent that briny witness down her cheek, for never did a quiet face look happier than hers. Mrs. [Hetty Hughes forgot the pastor and his wife, much as she loved them: she was too busy watching with a mother's pride and joy, her two children, Robert and Hetty Lee. How handsome he was, how beautiful she-how good both were! Then she thought of her dear old father, and of his sa'ge philosophizing about the ,intersecting circles of life: -and now she knew why Robert Lee's and her's had crossed in early life, to come together again in their children. And Robert Lee, in his heart, that lay, blessed Hetty Ifughes for what she had done for Nellie Lee, and he blessed Nellie for what she had done for his dear boy Robert and for him- self; and he blessed God, with a full heart, for what HE had done for all fIN[IS. 285 Broadway, New York, 'Dv6 'October, 1855. ROBERT CA'RTER & BROTHERS' Hrt-i Ithttatmiols. The Task, Illustrated. The Task, a poem by William Cowper. Illustrated by upward of fifty elegant designs by Birket Foster. Printed on the finest tinted paper. Small quarto, extra cloth, full gilt, $4 50. Turkey mor- occo,.$6 00. This most elegant gift-book we lave had printed for us in Edinburgh, Scotland, with the utmost care, and on the finest linen paper. A portion of the edition has been sold in England. 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The vrork stood very hih in the estimation of my hirhly- Jeanie Morrison; Or, THE DISCIPLINE or LrnE. Bi y the author of the "Pastor's Fain- ily." Illustrated. 16mo. '75 cents. "whihe desln and la of this volume are e llnt, and the execution graceful appearend fascinating. Prtionsof it reexceedingly toching. The re ader is actin hared Th le PastorTs Family along its pages amid smiles and teans to its happy close. The wise training of a ,uBythe s tranie e sstor^ ;... 18mo. 25 centsrin daughter, the stra ie Vicissit uds of life, the beauty of youthful piety in life and death, the blessed rsew ads of doing good, the way in which God disciplines the soul for usefulness and Ifeaven: these are among the many beautiful lessons which the volume contains. Few books of rarer interest and attraction have appeared from a teeming press."--Ev. Telegralp,'h The Pastor's Family. By the author of "Jeanie Morrison." 18mo. 25 cents. "What an unpretending title; fand yet what a history of joys and sorrows trials and comfort, sunshine and shade, is gathered within its gilded covers, It Is a painting of which there are many copie, Variously colored, but all real and truthful In the histoiy of mini-sterial life." ,-Chri8stiaA Aadvocate. g CARTERS' PUBLICATIONS. Addresses to the Young. By Alexander Fletcher, D D. 16mo. 60 cents. Remains of the Rev. Wm. Howels. 16mo. 75 cents. The Brother and Sister; or, the Way of Peace. By the author of "Grace Dermott." 18mo. 50 cents. "This is a charming story for children, delightfully told, and inculcating an excel- lent moral."-'-Puritan Recorder. Vara; or, the Child of Adoption. The Fifth Thousand, with four new Illustrations. 12mo. $1. "It is a deeply interesting story. We hope every novel..reading young lady will procure and attentively read it. 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A poor lad, early deprived of a fa- ther's care, manages to execute an apparently impracticable plan of his own in- vention, with such persevering industry and unshaken trust in Providence as to succeel in supporting his widowed mother and the younger children, until at last le secures for them and himself a settled and comfortable home, accompa- nied with the esteem and respect of the wise and good. Beloved youth, read this volume and imitate the noble virtues of Charles Roussel."-Lit. Sta/adar e.
