American watchman and Delaware advertiser. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1822-1828, 1827-05-01


often heard her children talk of father, they had
never heard her speak OF husband and when
she came amongst them, her dress was not that of
widow.
The day of merrmenthad passed and the even
ling had summoned the old and the young of the
village to the open plain that fronted Mary Ed
mond's dwelling. She was sitting on the green
bank beneath the aged tree that Swallowed the cot
tage gate: and as the mingled sounds Of music
and laughter from the neighboring crowd met her
ear, she pressed her hand to her brow, and seem
ed absorbed in thoughts that were even more than
usually melancholy.
Her little boy had been for some time leaning
his head on her lap; and, as he found himself
still unnotced at length he raised his fearful eyes,
looked in her face, and asked why she was sad,
when every body was so happy!
sc Put away your daisies, jane" said he to his
young sister, who was sitting by his mothers side,
arranging a nosegay of wild flowers" Put away
your daisies, and come and kiss mamma, for she
is weeping"
At this moment, stranger appeared standing
within the cottage-gate; he wore dark riding
cloak, the cape of which he held to his face, with
the evident intention of concealing his features |;
and remained for while unnoticed by those he
was SO earnestly contemplating.
g Mamma, mamma, do not look so sad ~ ex-
claimed both her children, and Mary Edmonds
turned and smiled through her tears as she kissed
them.
The stranger advanced few steps nearer to
the group, and withdrew the cloak that more than
half hid his face. The expression of his counte.
| nance was melancholy also; but it was melan-
chuly mingled with remorse-very different from
| that of the woman on whom he was so ntently ga
ling. The fall Of his cloak appeared to be acct
denta for in an instant he resumed the disguise
| and continued to look upon the mother embracing
and weeping over her children.
| lie had not continued in this posture many min
utes before he attracted the attention Of the little
boy who pointed him out to his mother. She rose,
and politely curtesied to the stranger.
| off you are going to join the crowd of merry
villagers, sir" said she, g you have but to pass
this corner, and you will see the ght-hearted and
happy
| The stranger made no reply.
Or perhaps, sir," she continued, you are on
the way to the village inn; yonder road will lead
you to it., but you will find it deserted now"
Still the stranger gave no answer; and while
she stood gazing with some surprise upon him, SHIT
sa his bosom heave as if in violent agitation, ant
suppressed sob appeared to shake his whole
frame.
"You do not know me, Maryf :" said he.
Mary Edmonds looked at him fxedly, and while
she gazed, he let the mantle fall from his face
She sank upon the green sward from which she
had risen, and appeared to exert more than hu
man strength while she replied to his Question,
"Ton we'll do know that voice, and those tea
tures.-Go, my children said she, . and wal
within until come to you" The little ones i'm
mediately passed through the gate, and entered thu
cottage.
The stranger instantly fell at Mary's feet, GIN
braced them and wept like child Oh y SAT-
he, !" II Cannot ask for pardon; but tor the low
of Him who died for sinners, give IT TO me, Mar,
give it to me. J"
MARY Edmonds took her husbands hand, an
!, her tears fell fast upon it -" Oh 4! why did yo
|, desert me 20 were the only words she could vi
: ter.
Z "Oh Ihave wronged you," he answered, bu
> have suffered deeply-most deeply. BY day an
: by night the bitterness OF remorse has been wit
me, until my life became a burden, and hav
come, on my knees to obtain forgiveness, or [
depart from you and die. For the sake OF thos
little ones--I have never seen one OF them unit
this night-forgive me Mary For the sake
that God you have always loved, and who has 81,
en- me broken and contrite hear, t,-forgiye N
Mary Forgive me, even on the return Of Il
very day on which, like a wretch. lett you y
Mary Edmonds had deeply felt the wrongs 81
had suffered deserted by the husband IN who
she had centred all her earthly hopes and affection
at the moment, too, when his cares and after
tons were rendered doubiy necessary,-she ha
struggled, and not altogether in ,ain to forget I'll
II days-the words-the looks-the actions of pu
. and devoted love, in the remembrance Of the 81
y by which he had been led away-the surest dealt
IS blow to woman's pride. But she was wife an
y mother, and the parent of her children, the d
ect of her early and disinterested attachment, WI
before her--a penitent She knew that i'll heave
It there is Joy sinner that repenteth; and fe
!: will blame her for raising her husband from Il
It ground. and amid weeping aud thanksgiving to Il
:, Almighty for his restoration to virtue. receisir
It him again to her home and her affections.
II
L A.e,.or desrnir.--A gentleman Who had na