The Middlebury people's press. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1841-1843, 1842-12-21
MISCELLANEOUS.
From the Universaiist and Ladies Repository
Ette DiIlage Sthonlmaster.
BY MISS 8. C. EDGARTON.

year, was spending a few months with {
relative in small country village at some
distance from her city home. She was gif
ted with that fortunate temper which is no
dependant upon gay society and brilliant
amusements for happiness; and far from
finding the winter parlor of her aunt's retired
residence spot for dullness and discomfort
she made its old-fashioned walls ring all day
long with her gentle and musical laughter.
This aforesaid parlor had three small
windows two upon the front, overlooking
square yard, filled with noble old horse.
chestnuts, and covered with snow which lay
in drifts up to the pickets Of the fence and
one upon the side, looking down into the
valley of a bright stream, which now slum-
bered, like passive slave, in the chains of
the frost King.
Very quiet was Aunt Lydia's habitation,
for not single child, girl or boy, molested
its orderly arrangements r scattered crumbs
over Its neat home-spun carpets. The old
house-dog Pompey was as grave and silent
as an octogenarian Turk and even prim
Tabitha, the puss, behaved with the most
Quaker. like decorum. Uncle lothian, the
lord of the dwelling, was good old, honest,
hum-drum farmer, who kept his station by
/ the large kitchen fireside, and seldom in.
vaded the precincts of the parlor, except at
the very urgent solicitation of his pretty
niece, who coaxed him so often out of his
pendulum-lke habits that he declared out.
right, he would have her hung for a witch.
The help attached to this demure house.
hold, were soon familiarized to Madeline
by the names of Phoebe and Abdoniiah-or
ME-, as he was wontedly called. Phoebe,
though somewhat past the prime of life,
was, like her celestial namesake, welded to
celbacy; and when moving around the
house, had about the same apparent vivac-
ity that ever escaped her, were in parrying
the threadbare jokes of Uncle johann
These she always retorted with spirit; and
Aunt Lydia often remarked that Phebe's
work was finished Just about two minutes
and thirty-three seconds sooner than usual,
by the old clock. whenever she had been
cracking jokes with the gudeman.'
Nye, too, was celibate, and bore about
in his crusty nature the most perfect and
undissembled horror of all woman-kind.-
Phoebe was the only person of her sex he
dared meet face to face and she only was
an exception, because from the long prac-
tice of sitting nesr her at the same table
and fireside, he had learned to regard her
rather as an indispensable piece of kitchen
furniture, then as an actual . live woman
Madeline's reasons for leaving her pleas.
ant home in the city, and becoming an in.
mate of this odd household, particularly at
this dull and inclement season, may seem
inexplicable to our fair readers. Had there
been but some beau cousin in the case. all
would have been natural, and easily under
stood but an old hum.drum uncle, in
hum drum habitation, quite on the outskirts
of little country village, could surely offer
no possible attraction to draw pretty, ro-
mantle young lady from the charms of met
ropolitan society. Perhaps some dsap-
pointment had driven her into solitude,
that she might give free vent to her repin-
ings; or perhaps as the more sagacious
suggested, her parents had sent her away
from some dangerous influence to which her
romantic enthusiasm might subject her -
Few had the simplicity to suppose that she
came out of love to her good old uncle and
aunt, and with the design, also, of enjoying
herself to the very extent Of her capabili-
| ties,
We have said that Madeline was pretty
and romantic; she had. moreover, one of the
kindest hearts in all the world and it was
owing to this latter endowment, that she
strayed, like chance sunbeam, into the
monotonous habitation of Uncle lothian,
Sitting one day in the cheerful home-parlor,
surrounded by her merry brothers & sisters,
her instruments of music, and her hundred
favorite books, the thought suddenly struck
her how lonely and dull dear Aunt Lydia
must be. so far away in the cloudy country,
with no one for company but Uncle lothian
and the pur-blind cat; with no one to sing
to her, or laugh with her, or read aloud the
last new novel; and no sooner had her
sprightly thoughts conned over the thou
sand disagreeable circumstances connected
with such residence, than she resolved to
break in upon it, and disperse its gloom by
the sunshine of her own JOYOUS spirit.
Straightway proposition was laid be-
fore papa and mamma, urged with so much
sweetness and enthusiasm, that in spite of
their strong desire to keep her always with
them-(for though now a grown woman.
she was still great pet -they were forced
to yield, at last, reluctant consent. Civ
ing herself week only, for saying adieus
to her numerous friends, and stocking her
trunk with literary food for two months
sojourn in an intellectual wildness, Made
line found herself one morning snugly en-
sconced between two portly gentlemen in
surtouts, on the front seat of one of those
numerous stage coaches that issue from our
quiet metropolis, and diverge in every d.
rection over the interior.
Toward evening of that same day, the
coach stopped at the gate in front of Uncle
Jotham's dwelling. For long while no
signs of life appeared about the premises.
The coachman dismounted, tied his horses