The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1833-11-19

there some little ornamental monumef-
al decoration, bargaining about my in
scription, and cheapening my urn
She was interrupted by the entrance
of milliner. lined with ei mine, and no
expense was to be spared. Alas Thought
!, the widos' "inky cloak" may we'll
be warm my black marble covering
will he cold comfort to her. Just
TO amuse you, ma'nin," said the mar
ehande des modes, do look at some
things that arc going home for Miss
Jones's wedding"
The widow said nothing and !
thought it was with a vacant eye that
she gaized alphabetically al satin, blondes
and feathers, white as the driven snow.
At length she cried abruptly, 81 cannot
cannot wear them !" and covering her
face with her handkerchief, she wept
more loudly than before. Happy late
husband that was-surely for me she
wept +! A housemaid was blubbering on
the stairs. a footman signing in the hall !;
this is as it should be, thought 1; ard
when heard that tempory reduction
| in the establishment was determined on,
and that the weeping and sighing in
dividuals had been just discharged, felt
the soothing conviction. that leaving
their living mistress tore open the
wounds inflicted by the loss of their late
master, and made them bleed afresh.
My dog howled as passed. him, my
horse ran wild in the paddock. and the
clock in my own sitting-room maintain
ed sad stubborn silence, wanting my
hand to wind it up.
Things evidently did not 60 on in the
old routine without me, and this was
soothing to my spirit. My own portrais
was turned with its face to the wall : my
widow having no longer the original to
look at could not endure gazing at the
mute resemblance ! What, after all,
thought I, is the use Of portrait
When the original lives, we have some
thing better to look at; and when the
original is gone, we cannot bear to look
at it. Be that as it may, did not the
less appreciate my widows sensibility.
On the village green the idle boy'
played cricket they mourned me nd
but what Of that ! a boy will skip j,
the rear. of his grandmother's funeral
The village butcher stood disconsolatel.
at the door Of his shop, and said to th.
village baker. who was de despondidgl.
passing by "Dull times these, neigllbo'
Bonebread! dull times. All! we mis-
the good squire. and the feasting al sh
half"
On dead wall read, Smith for ever
"For ever" thought 1, is a long time
to talk about. "Close to it l saw
Mi,ts for ever" written in letters equal
ly large, and mnch more fresh. He
was my parliamentary successor, and his
politics were the same as my own. This
was cheering; my constituents had not
deserted my principles--more than tha,
could not expect. The Smith who,
they said, was to be their representative
"for ever" was now just as dead as the
wall upon which bis name was chalked.
1 Again l retired to my resting place
under the family pew in the church Of
Smith.on, quite satisfied that, at the ex-
piration of ten years, should tnke my
second peep at equally gratifying, though
rather softened evidences ofmy popular
|ny.
| Ten YEARS What brief period to
look back upon What an age in per-
spective! How little do we dread that
which is certain not to befal US for ten
i years! Yet how swiftly to all of US will
ten years seem to fly What changes,
too, will ten years bring TO all Yon
School boy of ten, with his toys and his
noise, will be the lover oftwenty! The
man now in the prime of life will, in ten
years. see Times snow mingIing with
bis dark glossy curls And they now
are old-the kind, the cheerful looking.
as we say, SO much younger than they