Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1827-11-10

kind TO her, Almost every evening sis-
ter Lois used TO walk with her---and
she took her into boat, when
she went out to sail on Enfield pond IN
search Of water lilies. These howers,
Rosy used to delight 10 carry 10 girl
about fourteen years old, whom they
called "the blind sister, "---ior thcse
people all call each other brethren ana
sisters
Rosy had moi been there many weeks
before she learned to talk just like the
Shakers. NWhy does thee want flowers,
sister Mary'' she would say thee
canst not see tnem,---can thecF NAY,
sister Rosy replied the blind child; but
I can feel their soft leaves, and smell
their sweet breath, just as | do thine,
when thee comes to kiss me in the morn
ing
The little IRISH girl was too small to
do much work; but the Shakers never
allow any one to he idle; SO they taugh:
he. to knit, and to wind spool. for the
elder sisters. Blind Mary could knit
little, too; and they used to sit together
for hours, telling stories to each Other
and working as fast as they could. Ihus
day passed after day, and Rosy was well
| contented with her humble lot. One day,
when she had been there about SIX
months, all the children had leave to go
out on the pond, accompanied by some
Of the elders, to keep them out OF dan.
ger. They had quite merry time, and
Just before evening, they came home full
|
troop---for the little boys wore panta-
looms. very long waistcoats, with pocket
flaps straight bodied coats, and broad
brmmed hats, like old men; ;---and the
little girls, wore mob caps without ruffies:
long. wasted brown gowns, and checked
kerchieis, pinned at the corners. They
came running into The work room, Rosy
the foremost of all, with her apron ful
Of lilies, Here, all ye sisters look
here! see what heaps Of flowers l have
gotp The sisters smiled---and man,
stranger, who had just come in, laughed
out very load, for she looked so like
little grandmother, yet spoke so like
child, that he could not help it. Rosy
looked up, to see who he was, and the
moment he saw her black button eyes
so like her departed mothers, he exclaim'
ed, ST. Patrick! can it be my own Ro-
sy O'Conner! 1t was his own Rosy
O'Conner, for the stranger was her Ia
ther. Long and loud were the kisses
and sobs with which the poor lrishman
greeted his lost child; and she, in the
simplicity O! her little heart, kept putting
her arms round lis neck, while she al
most killed him by asking, When will
nanny come back to us!'
1t was another Irishman by the name
of O'Conner, who was shot in India
Patrick O'Conner had never been able
to leave the British army, until a few
months before his wife died; of course,
he did not reach America until sohe
timo after. 1t was long time before he
could hear any tidings Of his family. A
last, he found the self-same sailor, who
had told Mary the rumor of his death
From him he learned that his wife haG
left the world, surrounded by every com
fort, and anxious only about her child
As soon as he knew where his daugh
ter was, he went 10 Enfield as fast a:
stage-horses could carry him; and there
he saw his own Rosy O'Conner, wher
she came running in, with her apron full
Of lilies.
Patrick was too poor to take his child
away then; but by constant industry ne
was, in few years, able to pay rent fol
the house where his dear Mary had died
Rosy was such an active, capable girl
and learned so many neat and ingenious
ways among the Shakers, that she was
able to support herself at very early
age. She and her father were always
what the world calls poor, but they were
rich In contentment and comfort. Rosy
delighted to wait upon the good nurse, in
her old age; and year never passed
without her sending some present to
blind Mary, and Sister Lois.