Staunton spectator, and general advertiser. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 183?-1849, 1839-10-31

SOtu sweat from MS TEN
pies. He sprung over the wall and rushed t,
the spot.
''Man ~ he exclaimed in agony, .whos,
grave is that!'
Il "Hoot! ava wi'ye," said the grave digger
starting back at his manner swhatna ava,
Is thatto CLIFF body ! are We daft q
ANSWER met cried the soldier, seizinu him
by the hand; whose grave-whose grave is
that q
'Mercy men replied the man of death. VIC
are surely out ofyour head: it'san au!d hody
they cad sAhnphell's grave. Now arc
W ony thlng the wiser for spierin g
My -fatlier!' cried my comrade, as an.
preached HIM; and claspng his hands togeti.-
er' Tie Dent his head upon my shoulder and
wept aloud.
will not dwell upon this painful scene.
During his absence, adversity had oiven tho
fortunes OF his father to the winds: and he
mad died In an humble cottage, unlamented
and unnoticed by the friends Of his prosperity.
Al the request OF my fellow traveller, | accom-
panied him to the house of mourning. Two
or three poor cottagers sat around the fire. A
few white hairs fell around the whittier face of
the deceased, which seemed to indicate that
he died from sorrow rather than from acre.
The son pressed his lips to his fathers cheek.
lie groaned in spirit and was troubled. He
raised his head in agony, and with voice al
most inarticulate with grief, he exclaimed in
quiringly, My mother 2
Inc wondering peasants started to their feet.
and led the way to alowly bed. He hasten
ed forward-he fell upon his knees by the
bedside.
MY mother On mother = he eXcIaim-
ed, do notyo too leave me! Look at me-
speak TO me--l am your own son-your own
Willie have you too forgot me, mother7'
She, too, lay upon her death bed, and the
tide of life was fast ebbing; but the rememb-
cred voice OF her beloved son drove it back for
moment. She opened her eyes-she at
tempted to raise her feeble hand, and it fell
upon his head.-She spoke, but he a.
lone knew the words that she uttered; thew
seemed accents OF mingled anguish, of Joy
and Of blessing.
For several minutes he bent over the bed
and weptbitterly. He held her withered hand
IN ms; and as we approached him, the hand
he held was stiff and lifeless. He wept no
longer he gazed from the dead body of his
father to that fof his mother his eyes wan
dered wildly from one to the other; he smote
his hand upon his brow and threw himself
upon chair, while misery transfixed him, as
If thnnaefscty' ,sea -A-,.o-e.l hi. -..o,,l-
Twill not give description of the molan-
choly funerals and the solitary mourner. The
fathers obsequies were delayed, and the son
layed both his parents in the same grave.
Several months passed away before gain
ed information respecting the sequel Of nv
little story. After his parents were laid in
the dust, William Campbell, with sad and
anxious heart, made inquiries after Jeanie
Leslie. the object of his affections, to whom
we have already alluded. For several weeks
his search was fruitless; but at lenpth lie
learned that considerable property mad been
left her father by distant relative, and that
he now resided somewhere in Dumfresshire
in the same garb which have already de-
scrlbed, the soldier sat out on his Journey.
With little difficulty he discovered the house.
1t resembled such as are occupied by the high
er glasses of farmers. The front door stood
open. He knocked but no one answered. He
proceeded along the passage-he heard voices
In an apartment on his right--agan he knock
ed, but was unheeded. He entered uninvit-
ed. Agroup were standing in the middle of
the floor, and among them a minister of the
church OF Scotland.-Th bride hung her head
sorrowfully, and tears were stealing down her
cheeks she was his own Jeanie Leslie. The
clergyman paused. The brides father step
ped forward angrily and enquired, .What do
| you want sir g but instantly recognized his
features, he seized him by the breast, and in
voice half choked with passion, continued i:
SORROW TAX we for scoundrel! what's brought
we here-an' the MAR especially at a time
like this! Get out of my house, sir. / say,
William Campbell, get out o. my house.
an never darken my door gain Wi your ne 'er-
do-well countenancen
| A sudden shrek followed the mention of his;
name, and jeanne Leslie fell into the arms of
her bridesmaid.
'Peace, Mr.. Leslie said the soldier. push
Ing the old man aside; since matters are thus,
Will only stop to say farewell for auld lang
syne; you cannot deny me that
He passed toward the object Of his Young
love. She spoke not-she moved not he took
her hand; but she seemed unconscious ofwhat
ne did.-And, as he again gazed upon her
beautiful countenance, absence became as a
dream upon her face. The very language he
had acquired during their separation was laid
aside Nature triumphed over art, and he adj
dressed her in the accents in which he had
breathed love and won her heart.
'Jeanie' said he, pressing her hand be-
tween his, It's sair thing to say FAREWELL,
but at present maun say it. This is scene
l never expected to see for all, Jeanne | could
have trusted to your truth and to your love as
the farmer trusts to seed time ard harvest,
and is not disappointed. / thought it was i'll
enough, when hoping to find my fathers for
giVeness, found them digging his grave; or,
when 1 reached my mothers bedside, and
iotlnd her only able to say, It's my ain BARN
us my am bairnl But maun bid We fare
Wen, willie, farewell already-it is sair, sair!
but oh, may the blessing o. the God o. Abra-
ham--.' AS she said this, the death
| faIue grew louder in her throat-for moment
her eyes became bright as diamonds | thought
u was the immortal spark leaving the body