Madison Whig advocate. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1839-1841, 1839-11-23


never avoided talking Of your cousin
when an opportunity was offered -
..But you have avoided the opportunity
said the saucy girl, switch come TO the
same thing. Poor little Emily. | fear
she runs much risk of being forgotten
altogether; and vet its no fault of mine.
for | am sure when we were together
reminded you of her daily, houriy-did
not, Harry 2''--..Oh, Emilytn exclaim-
ed the agitated Ponsonby, grasping her
hand, ..you do indeed remind me of her.
and that SO powerfully, that at times
scarce know which Emily | am think
ing of or speaking to. look on you as
| should lock on heri | think Of ycu
when | should think OF her. and wish,
and wish what is impossible that
there was but one Emily in the world for
me, and she was--'' .sOh, do not saw
it, Harrym exclaimed the now trem-
bling girl, placing her hand upon his
lips, as if to stop the words she dared
not hear. '1Come, come, | must not lis
ten 10 this nonsense. | shall 90 to Mrs.
Hartley's and send Emily to you, and
then you will have your wish, and
shall have mine; for believe me, dear
Harry, there is nothing desire so ear
nestly as that you should continue true
to your first affection" With these
words Emily returned TO the house, leav-
ing Ponsonby more bewiIdercd than
ever. ''Nothing that she desires so much
as that | should be true 10 nv first at
fectionm repeated Harry 'sStrange.
unaccountable girl But be il so.-The
task becomes easier, now that ] know
that she does not love me. And now |
have but to school my own heart, and
avoid the dangerous pleasure Of being
alone with this bewitching creature
while she remains here"
But this schooling of the heart Pom
sonby found no easy task. Every mem
Der of the family appeared to have a
plot to bring this unfortunate couple to-
gether. Even good Mrs. Elizabeth in
nocently lent her aid,-she could not
make out her evening walk unless sup
ported by an arm Of each; and when she
had reached her accustomed distance, she
would urge Harry and Emily to con-
tinue their way little farther, giving
them frequently some commission Of
benevolence TO perform which she her
self was unable to accomplish.
1t was while proceeding one afternoon
on mission of this nature, to the cot
tage of an old Scotch woman, pension
er of Mrs. Betty's, that Emily and Pom
sonby had been induced TO prolong their
walk. The evening was sultrv. almost
to breathlessness; and as Emily leant on
the arm of her companion, slowly pur-
suing their way, more than usual con-
straint seemed to weigh on the spirits of
both Few words had been uttered by
either, until they reached blind Marga-
refs door, and they felt i a relief when
the old woman appeared, seated in her
usual sunny corner at the end of the
house. She arose, and spreading down
her apron. seemed prepared to welcome
them long before the silent pair believed
it possible for her to be aware Of their
swell, Margaret, and how
are you tonight" said Emily, advanc-
ing; II have brought a friend with me
TO see you, and you must tell who it is
before he speaks. You know | always
said you was a-witch, Margaret, and now
am sure of it, for you rose tonight TO |
receive US before even Fine Ear in the |
fairy tale, could have told we were COM
ing"
INA, ma, Miss Emily, I'm no a witch,
nor as little a fairy said the old woman
.'the gifts which witches and fairies pos
sessed are no bestowed on mortals now
l-days; yet God has given a sense to |
the blind which amaist makes up for that |
which he has seen fit to deprive them of. /
and ] dinna think it needed ony witch /
craft to tell that it was Master Harry, |
coming up the loans, switching the this /
lies and nettles wi his cane, as he used I
to do when he was laddie, and little |
Miss Emily would aye be trotting after /
him. His step is no sac light tonight |
as it used to be in ither days, and vet I /
would haze kent it amang "a thousandn'
THANK you, Margaret, for your kind re /
OF me and my boyish tricks
said Harry, kindly shaking hands with /
the old woman II was not aware that I /
was discipinng the thisties tonight. ] |
think | might have been cured Of that I
bad habit ere now."- "And | thought /
sac too, Master Harry, for ye may mind |
xeel IT cost YOU a sair heart when won /
was younger than you are the day. and +
YOU nearly whipped out little Miss Emil /
Tvs cen, driving about You with your
switch-av. mind weel how you bro't |
the dear BARN in to nc, and ! couldna /
make out which of you had got the hurt
for you was crying and she was com
forting you-tilI the sweet BARN said. |
Never mind. Harry, for if | am blind, |
you will lead me about. and promise new
err to leave me; and shall be far hap-I
pier than poor old Margaret, for she has
nobody to be kind to her'-And then you
---Oh, Margaret, YOU must
not be remembering all the foolish things
said and promised when was boy,
said Ponsonby, coloring deeply; zone
gets wiser as they get older-'--s-Aweel- |
aweel. see that il be sac, my young gem
tleman; but remember its ne thing
whites to be wise, and aniiher to be hon |
est. and never saw muckle good come
Of the wisdom that made folks no like to
hear of their youthful pronises--B1t
Wilma ye step into the house, Miss Emily
as We used to do, for | feel an uncol
weight in the air. and I'm thinking we'll