The Middlebury people's press. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1841-1843, 1842-07-19

~ has brought me almost to the shop; "John
Ross, glove manufacturer" This must be
the place. Stop one moment, Grace, and
look through The window: that man, no
doubt, is Ross himself What fine head
you might know such a man would succeed
in the world, let his lot be cast where it
would. He would have been resolute gen.
eral, a safe statesman; but here he is, an
honest thriving glover, and that, perhaps is
just as well; nothing truer than the trite old
couplet-
Honor and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part, there all the honor lies"
"The old man looks as though he might be
a little tyranical, though. Heaven grant
that poor Lucy may not have suffered from
that trait in his physiognomy.''
''The only customer is coming out Now
we have clear field, let us 60 in"
"Mr. Ross, Believer"
"The same, ma'am."
81 called, Mr. Ross, to inquire after a
young woman who came to live with you
last Christmas
81 have had great many young women
living with me, ma'am."
The old mans humor requires me to be
very explicit. ''Her name, Mr. Ross, was
Lucy WendalI.'
cay Lucy Wendall did come into the fac
tory about that time "
There was an expression in Ross's face, at
the mention of her name, that did not clear
ly comprehend. 1t might betide good, and
il might betide evil of Lucy. 81 merely
wished to know, Mr. Ross, whether Lucy
had given satisfaction, and whether she still
remains with you?"
"Was you friend to Lucy Wendell,
ma'am?"
81 should think it an honor to call myself
SO, but could hardly claim that name. She
was my neghbor, and interested me by her
correct department, and uncommon dutful-
ness to her old parents" Ross made no re-
ply, but fumbled over some gloves that were
lying on the counter; then tied up the bundle,
and laid it on the shelf. "You seem Mr.
Ross, not disposed to answer my inquiries.
am afraid that some misfortune has hap
pened to the poor girl.
"WouId you like to know ma'am, what
has happened to her?' He leaned his elbow
on his desk, and seemed about beginning
story.
'Certainly, would"
'Well, you know when Lucy came to me,
she was a little demure thng-not n beauty
but so comelv and tidy, that she was pref
ty resting place for the eye of old or young.
She was as great contrast to the other
girls in the workshop, as white is to black.
She just sat quiet in one corner, and minded
her work, and took no part in their gam
bling. You must know what a parcel of
girls is, ma'am, dinging from morning till
night, like forty thousand chimney swallows.
Lucy was very different.sh made herself neat
and trim IN the morning, and did not lose
half an hour at noon, when the 'printice boys
were coming TO dinner, twitching out curl
] 4 g. IL. IL
and girls used to have their jokes about her,
and call her the little parson; but she only
preached in her actions, and this is what
call practical preaching, ma'am. She was
, little master workman with her needle. [
never had match for her since ] first be-
gan business; but (you know, ma'am, there's
always but in this life. she gave me great
offence. She crossed me where | could
least bear to be crossed"
"Not Intentionally, am sure, Mr. Ross
"You shall hear ma'am. | have an only
son, John Rosa fine, fresh-looking, good
natured, Industrious lad. | set my heart on
his marrying his cousin, Amy Bunce. She
is daughter of my younger sister, and had
pi city fortune in hand. enough to set John
up in any business he fancied. There was
no reason in the world why he should not
like Amy. had kept my wishes to myself,
because knew that young folks love is like
an unbroken colt, that will neither mind spur
nor bit.
81 never mistrusted that anything was
wrong, till one day heard the girls making
great wonderment about canary bird that
they found, when they went into the work.
shop, in a cage, hanging over Lucy's seat;
and then remembered that John had asked
me for five dollors the day before, and wien
] asked what he wanted the money for, he
looked sheepish and made no answer.
thought il prudent, before matters went any
farther, TO tell John my wishes about his
cousin Amy. My wishes, ma'am, | have al
ways made law to my children. To be sure,
have taken care, for the most part, that
they should be reasonable. | am a little
willful, own it: but it's young folks bust
ness to mind; and Children obey your pa
rents,' is the law, both of scripture and na-
ture. Sol told John. did not hint any
suspicion about Lucy; but told him this
marriage with his cousin was what he could
have no reasonable objection to what
had long fixed my heart upon; and what he
must set about wthou; delay, on peril of my
displeasure. He was silent, and looked FAST
down; but he saw was detetermined, and
believed he would not disobey me. A few
evenings after, saw a light in the workshop
after the usual time, and | went TO inquire
into it. had on my slippers, and my steps
made little or no sound. The upper part of
the door is set with glass. saw Lucy was
finishing off pair of gloves-rny son was
standing by her. 1t appeared that they were
for him, AMI he insisted on her trying them
OH his hand. Hers, poor thing, seemed TO
tremble The glove would not go on but
it came off, and their hands met, ,cifhom
gloves, and nice fit they were. burst in
upon them. | asked John if this was his
obedience to me, and told Lhcy to quit my
service Immediately. Now the whole mat
ter is past, must do John the justice to say
he stood by her like man. He said this was
a matter in which he could not obey me. He