The Middlebury people's press. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1841-1843, 1841-08-03
MISCELLANEOUS,
ROSANNA, THE UGLY ONE.

ILL WILL O4Nhs
But look then, said Mrs. Moore to her
husband, how ugly that little one is; is she not,
Williaml'
And Mr.. Moore, who was sitting in a rock
ing chair, amusing himself with poking the fire,
laid down the tongs he held, and gravely an
swered his wife.
But, my dear, you have already said so
one hundred times, and were you to say it one
hundred times more, Rose would not become
less ugly for your saying So
Rosanna was a little girl of about fourteen.
She was their child, and to do her mother Jus.
tice, was really very ugly-nay, almost revolt
ing with her little grey eyes, flat nose, large
mouth, thick, protruding lips, red hair and a.
bove all, a form remarkably awry.
Rose was then, very ugly-but she was a
sweet girl, nevertheless. Kind and intelligent,
she possessed a mind of the highest ORDER
Nature seemed 70 have compensated her with
every good quality of the heart for the want
of every beauty of person.
The poor little thing was profoundly hurt as
she listened to her mothers observation. oh,
you little fright, you will never get a husband
= Eight o'clock struck; Mrs. Moore was sore-
y vexcd.
$50 tc bed, R~osanna."
Trembingly the lite girl approached her
mother TO give her the kiss of good night.
''Tis useless, you little MONSTER said her
mother.
4 tear rolled from the little ones eye. She
hastily wiped it away, and turning to her faith
or, presented to him the yet humid check.
He kissed her tenderly.
Il am not altogether miserable she MUIR
INJURED, leaving the room.
Retired to her chamber, she commenced
embroidering a scarf, and worked thus part of
the night, for she desired to be able to present
it TO her mother when she rose in the morning.
The clock struck twelve. She had Just fin
ished, and putting it by, the little girl calmly
resigned herself to rest. Her repose was IN
disturbed.
On the morrow Rose presented the scarf to
her mother. What was the pain the little one
experienced when her mother received it cold
ly, and expressed none of those tender senti-
ments which were to have been the sweet lit
lie ones o~nlyreward.
Her eyes, by chance, glanced over a neigh
boring mirror.
Yes she said, internally, Il am ugly-they
are right" and she sought in her young head
to find a remedy for uglincss.
Ltitu lit III Ii tWOllC-lCWp dugS NOuilutu
the little ones heart. A first impression al
ienated all the young girls of her W age
but then she was so good, so amiable, SO ANU
sing, that they approached, then listened, then
loved her. Now, indeed, our little one was
happy.
One day Mr.. Moore went home in a violent
passion, and became, in consequence of some
trihing prevarication, highly incensed against
his wife. Their domestic felicity was troub-
led for eight long days-for eight long days
Mrs. Moore was continually crying. Rosan-
ma In vain racked her young brains to discov-
er why, but her father still continued angry,
and her mother still continued weeping. At
last she reflected in her mind how to reconcile
the parties.
They were all three seated in the parlor-
Mr.. Moore was arranging the fire-when this
was concluded, he threw the tongs from him,
snatched a book from the mantle, and opened
it abruptly; but after a moments perusal, he
closed it again in a violent humor, cast a fierce
glance at his trembling wife, and hurriedly
rose from his chair.
Rosanna, deeply moved, clasped her arms
about his neck and affectionately caressed him.
He could not reject her innocent coaxing, and
the little girl, thinking she had succeeded in
touching his heart, she then took in her hands
the moistened handkerchief wherewith her
mother had been drying her weeping eyes,
and dried them a second time Herewith she
then tenderly embraced her mother, who re-
turned her affectionate caress with all a moth
er's fondness.
The parties now being favorably disposed
nought remained but TO establish the peace.
ms was no easy matter-neither would make
tfe frst overture-and without the penetration
OF little Rose, the reconciliation would not then
have taken place.
She took her fathers hand between her own
little hands and pressed it to her bosom: she
then took her mothers hand joined it in her
fathers as it lay near her heart. Human
pride could resist no longer-the alienated pa
rents rose at the same moment and cordially
embraced each other.
From that hour Rose was the idol of them
BOTH