Literary cadet, and Saturday evening bulletin. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1826-1827, 1826-07-01

Mary felt herself mother. She was de-
livered of a daughter; but instead of re-
joicing at the circumstance with the fullness
of mothers Joy, she was sad and down
cast, for she saw naught but want staring
her in the face, and trouble and distress
around her.
The babe was but four days old, and the
mother had not recovered from her weak
state, when one evening, as usual, she was
waiting the return Of her husband, and
was propped up in blankets in chair by
the side ofthe fire, for she could but bare
ly move about. The night was cold and
tempestuous. The rain was pouring down
in torrents, as the wind, which had been
high in the afternoon, and kept the clouds
apart, had now gradually fallen and calm
ed. Mary Irving trimmed the lamp that
stood by her side on small oaken table,
and stirred the fire into more kindly and
cheering light. She again threw herself
back in the chair, and keeping her eyes
fixed on the warm glow of the fire, her
thoughts involuntarily wandered back to the
fireside of her fathers cottage, and to the
many happy evenings she had spent there.
How different, indeed-how strikingly diff
ferent were the two in comparison-her
present home from the one that had wa CHI
ed over her Infancy But she still, amid all
his imperfections, looked back to the days
when he came as lover, and sung the
songs ofScotia's own delightful bard, and
wooed and won her simple heart. The
fervor ofa first love is too deeply felt ever
to be erased or succeeded by another for
the heart, young and untutored, riots on
and revels in the luxurious feelings that
then haunt the mind and the SOUL And she
had felt all these, and though times were
now different with her, indeed, yet still they
shone in her chaste memory like the soft
ened twilight that succeeds brilliant SUM-
set. She was indulgihg in such dreams,
and endearing her husband, bad as he was
and had been, more to her heart, when
suddenly she was started from her mus
ings by the door bursting open, and her
husband, reeling in worse than ever, and
staggering forward to chair. "You look
worse tonight, Albert, than / have ever
seen you," said Mary, as she approached
where her husband sat, and looked him
kindly in the face. "No wonder, Mary"
said he in broken accents, but softer than
usual 4" only look here there's for you !;
see what John Williams" and pulling off
his hat, the blood gushed out from fear
full wound on the back of his head. Mary
screamed out with terror when she looked
on the wound, and no wonder, it was an
awful one. "Albert! Albert" was all she
could articulate but Albert heard her not
---he had tainted. She used every effort
which in her haste her ingenuity could de-
wise, but Albert was beyond the reach of
human aid by her screams she brought
her neighbors to her assistance the vil-
lage doctor was procured, but too late to do
any good he was carried into his bed, and
laid down for the last time. When Mary
saw and felt that she was widow, and that
Albert had gone to his last account in that
fearful condition, it was more than her poor
brain could bear. They had barely laid
him down, ere she started up suddenly from
her chair into which she had thrown her.
self but moment before, and rushed, no
one could tell why, to the cradle where
her sleeping infant lay, and snatching it up,
hurried out of the house into the rain and
darkness. All petriied by the suddenness
of the action, and struck dumb and notion
less by the portentous looks of the distract
ed mother, could only gaze on each others
faces in silent astonishment. However,
when few of them were again restored to
recollection, they went out in search of her,
and Of course their steps were first direct
ed to her fathers cottage. There, in truth,
they found her, but too late to proffer their
friendly aid in consoling her distresses.
The old man had been reused from his
sleep by fearful knocking at the cottage
door, and the voice of his child calling for
Gods sake to open: he had jumped from
his bed, and unlocked the door, and lifted
the latch, when Mary rushed in with her
half-naked child in her arms, and flung it on
the bed. She had then turned to her ia
ther, clasped her hands distractedly to-
gether---screamed and fallen forward on
the floor. Her father knelt down and hall
uplifted her--her eyes only opened once
but their expression was wild and unearth-
ly---Albert's name family passed her lips,
and then her too full heart had broken.
Il
Three graves, side by side, lie peacea-
bly, together in the little Churchyard Of
c