Sentinel of the valley. [volume] (Woodstock, Va) 1841-1848, 1842-11-17

discriminating those that loved her. and
! her father has from her earliest wears re.
garded her not only with indifference,
but aversion
The hour of midnight was fast approach
ling; Mrs. Harrington remained suppor
ting the head of her child upon her bosom
long after the clock had chimed the hour
and when it opened its eyes it still re-
NAMED sensible of her unwearied atten
ton and kindness. NY sweet child,
cried the mother, parting the clustering
curls that fell around her marble forehead
while her lips again and again were pres
sed upon 1t. She was evidently sinking
away faster and faster. and as she again
made an effort to speak, her mother lis
tened with that deep attention she would
1t that spirit was already beatified one.
so still, So lovely did she seem to her.
+ WIZ he not come, mother. my father.
to see me!' asked the child, i'm whisper
! ing accents-'will he not come to see me
die; do you think he will hate me when
lHm gone forever? You will tell him.
mother, when he comes, and am no
more, that little Ella prayed for him that
he might love his little girl and you.
dear, dear mother, what will become of
you when am gone, and no one left to
love you?' Mrs. Harrin9ton's ewes were
raised to heaven. while sob of agony
broke from her compressed lips.
'Will father 90 to heaven, mother
Will he be with you and me and little
brother and sisters WIZ God let him
/ hate us'there,?'
No, no. my child gasped out the I'm
happy parent; 'there all is ipv. all is
peace, all is love. Ella, my child she
continued. syou will break your mothers
heart if you continue to talk thus--re-
member it is your father. my chiId.'
My father rs there the child answer
ed. pointing upwards; but will be still.
mother; Ella will not say any thing to
distress vou.'
Mrs. Harrington had buried her head
in the bedclothes. and now lay sobbinr
like an infant. She felt the little hands
striving to clasp again the neck that had
SO often piIowed her lovely head. those
cold dying hands, and in moment she
suppressed all traces of the anguish that
was iinwardly consuming her.
Il will love him, mother, will love
father said the child; but why does he
not come to see me die ?
'ue will; he must exclaimed Mrs.
lIarrington,' rushing from the ROOM
: My darling shall be gratifeL in a wish
SO natural
A servant was despatched with the in.
telligence of Elias danger. while the mo.
t'ler remained pacing the apartment to
see what effect the message would have
on one who had uniformly treated her
with 'ankindness and neglect. How Of
ten had the poor mother raised her voice
IN prayer as she bet in agony of spirit
over her haplessschild
. Let not. Lcrd, she said, .the bruised
freed be'quite broken; vet. notwithstan-
ding, thy will, and not mine. be done.,-
Sad passed the moments preceding the
return Of her messenger; and when he
did come, the intelligence he brought fell
upon the wretthed wife with a STUNNING
effect. Mr.. harrington could not come
till evening; and alas! at evening" sho:t
poor Emily, tthe necessity for his pres
ence will exist no ldngerI' She return.
ed to her child, to her dying girl. and ev-
en- the unkindncss Of her hu. band's reply
was soon lost in the aH-absorbine inter
est for her. The child Law w tn its little
arms folded across its bosom; so still, its
eyes closed, she thought IT'S spirit had
winged its Hight to heaven in her absence;
but it Still breathed, and as her soft tread
was heard, again opened its lips to
speak. So low were the sounds, Emily
had to bend her ear quite to its lips, and
| the words 'mother, dear motlrer,' we're
the last sounds that ever greeted herr
the child was dead; her darling girl had
gone, and all that remained was the beau
tiful casket in which that precious jewel
had been enshrined. None knew when
that loved one died; not one was there
to comfort that unhappy mother; but
| when Mr.. Harrington returned, he found
| it still ciasped iii TIE arms of his heart
broken wife.
This is no fancy sketcif; and what be-
came OF that heart-stricken mother?
think ] hear you ask. Reader: she too
died just one week after her sainted
child
| by foreign hands her dying eyes were closed,
| BY foreign hands her decent limbs composed
BY foreign hands her humble grave adoln'd,
BY strangers honol'd & Sy strangers mcurn'd'
-:0:-:0:-
From the New York American.
OLD KENNEDY, THE QUARTER-HASTER.
PERRY'S VICTORY ON LAKE ERIE!
"But," says [, 'sKennedy-I think
you said YOUR draft was bound for the
I.akes-whlch did you go 20, Ontario or
Erie?' | was on both, sir, saws he, a
fore the war was over; and we got as
much accustomed to poking our f,ing