Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1827-11-10
Truly Mary O'Connor was not we'll.

Truly Mary O'Connor was not we'll. I
She took violent cold, when, after hav-
ing washed all day, she returned to Dor
chester, that windy evening; and her
mind was too ANXIOUS to allow her TO at
tend TO herself. From that time forward,
she continued to grow weak; and when
three months had passed away, she was
totally unable to leave her bed. poor
woman, who was IN the next house, came
and attended upon her constantly; and
when Mrs. *~%s*** heard she was i'll, she |
sent her many comfortable things, ann
promised to pay her neighbor for NUS
ing her. Thus provided for, Mary o.
Connor seemed to have no cause Tor
anxiety, save the fate Of her little girl.
She is too young to 60 out to servlce,"
said she, "and cannot bear the thoughts
of her going to the alms-house. The
good woman who nursed her, told her to
| trust in ProvidenCe---iOr she was sure
the child would be taken care Of /; and
one day, when the mother seemed more
uneasy than usual, she told her that she
had a sister among the Shakers, af En-
field, who she knew would take the Or
phan, and bring her up as tenderly as
if she were her own daughter Mrs.
O'Connor made great many inquiries
about the Shakers land when she heard
that they were very industrious, neat,
and kind---that they were very charita-
5le to tho widow and the fathcrless---
and that they lived in large houses by
themselves, away from the rest OF the
world---she did not feel unwilling that
Rosy should go there. The kind Mrs.
#*'*,** sent word to Mrs. O'Conner,
that, in case of her death, she would pay
the orphans expenses to Enfield, and
see her well provided for
Alter this, the mothers mind was
more at rest; but it seemed as il the little
being every day grew dearer, from the
conviction that she must soon leave her
alone in the world Her Cruel did not
taste good, unless Rosy satby her side,
and tasted every other spoonful; and
she would start in her sleep, 70 feel If
her little arms were near her. One day,
after Rosy had crept close up to her, aud
kissed her cheek a great many tunes,
she began to jump up and down on the
bed; with all the thoughtless gaiety Of n
child. Mrs. o. Conner .told her that
she must lie down and be still, because
the motion made her head ache; ard the
obedicnt girl Immediately dropt down by
her side, and putting one hand within
her mothers she drew her sweet breath
as softly as If she had been asleep.
She had lain thus ten or fifteen minutes,
watching her mother, as she smiled up
on hcr,-when she noticed sudden
scowl pass over her forehead, as if she
had been in pain,-and then the whole
face grew dark-as the fields sometimes
do, when thick cloud is hurrying over
the sun. Rosy thought her mother was
IN ft-and she screamed to the nurse.
The nurse came-and she saw at one
glance that death was dealing with Mary
O'Conner! Little Rosy did not know
why she was carried out OF the room
nor why, for two long hours, they would
not let her go into see her mother.
When she did go, and touch her hand,
it was very cold-and they told her tina:
her mother was dead! The poor child
sobbed; but it was because her mother
did not speak to her---for she did not
know what it meant to be dead. "Will
she wake no again to morrow - asked
the little orphan; and when her mother
was placed in the coffin, and put into
her grave, she would 60 and stand there,
till the nurse came to bring her home---
and then she would sigh very deeply,
and say, Tomorrow, she will come
and see little Rosy, again!"
Before fortnight elapsed, Rosy was
seated in the stage, beside her mothers
kind nurse, on the way to Enfield. Mrs.
*****" had two good suits of clothes
made for her, and sent ten dollara as a
prese:.t to sister Lois, as the Shakers
called her, to whose care Rosy was par
ticuarly intrusted. The Shakers gave
the orphan a very kind reception-and
her good friend agreed to stay few
days, as she said, " until the child got
wonted to their strange ways"
To a person who has never been
among the Shakers, there is indeed some
thing very peculiar in the general ap-
pearance Of things. At Enfield, there
are three establishments, about half a
mile from each other-each one devoted
to what the Shakers call ga family. ."---
These families consist Of fifty or sixty,
women and children, all Of whom are
busiiy engaged in some employment,
suited to their age and strength. Sister
Lois lived in the centre famiy---and there
the little Irish girl was to be left. There
were four or five buildings, where spin
ming, weaving, making pals, baskets, &c.
were carried on; a very PLAIN church,
with two doors---one for the men, and
the other for the women; and large
store, where the various articles they