The Middlebury people's press. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1841-1843, 1843-11-08
MISCELLANEOUS.
ghe Bitter Blight.
BY MRS. C. H. Fo X ID.

ny MRS, C. IL l.. IL u
Fling anosaer fagot on the frenzy child,
sid weak voice, as Of sick woman,
am very cold. How the wind shakes ms
frsil cabin. All il was not so IN Altman
Castle. when your dear father lived. The
meancs, hind had then comfortable root
and plenty Of fagots. Little did he think
hi. wife and child should ever suffer thus.
The speaker was lady already advanced
in wears, whose originally fine disposition
psnurv ard disease had rendered queruous
Ibe person she addressed sat by The scaniy
fire. preparing the evening meal, Tor al
though the storm rendered all without dark,
III. hour was not vet that of the usual twl-
LIGHT. Clad in coarse and faded garments,
when her lovely face worn with sorrow and
care. it would have been impossible to rec.
ognze in her the once proud heIress, Dut
for the grateful figure, the proud eye, and
The air of refinement about her face and
movements, which nothing could conceal.
She heard her mothers command with a
SIGH. cazed wistfullv on the sole remaining
iagot, and tlen mournfully continued her
occupation,
Clara Altman had been bern in almost
prnccly halls, and educated as the heiress
ofthe broadcast domains in the north OF Eng
land. Up 10 ner fifteenth year the sun of
her prosperity had been unclouded. She
vas beautiful even beyond her sex, and al.
ready surrounded by noble and worthy sui
Tors. To one of these she had pledged her
virgin heart. All the delicious emotions of
airst love were hers, and life seemed to lie
before her, like fiowery path beneath
summer mornIngss sun.
All at once cloud came over her sky
1t was the era of the crusades; and when
the Ion hearted Richard assumed the cross,
her father, and subsequently her lover fol-
lowed his example, and set forth in his suite
for the Holy Land. With many tears Clara
and her mother saw them depart but hon.
or hade them forward and the wife ard
daughter, even amid their sorrow, felt they
could not persuade them TO remain.
A long year passed, then another, ind
then third. At first Clara heard at long
intervals from her sutton, but III the second
year the intelligence arrived that both he
and her father had fallen. in deadly Skin
mish with the Saracens led by SaiadIn in
person. The melancholy news was, few
months later, confirmed by the arrival of a
squire of tine lord, who said he had seen his
master fall in battle. He added that Clara's
sutor had been slain in attempting to save
her parent. This circumstantial account
destroyed the last hope lingering in the boz
SON of Clara and her mother, and they wept
long and deeply, almost benumbed by grief
!: But frcm this sacred sorrow they were
suddenly and rudely awoke. The vast cs-
iates of Altman, though entaiicd in the male
line, were TO have descended to Clara on
her marriage. by the consent of the king.
But the deed had never been made; Rich>
ard was now in prison in Germany and
bis base brother John ruled unrighteously in
his stead. The claimant to the estates
was in high favor with the dissolute prince,
and now came forward to demand the do
mains. Rage and revenge were uppermost
an his heart, for he lad been rejected low
er of Clara and having renewed his suit,
after the death of her intended husband had
been again refused. Malignant by nature
and pittiless from depraved habits, he felt
no remorse in eiecting both mother and
daughter from their habitation, and leaving
them utterly unprovided for, to the most
ahiect poverty. All appeals to the prince
were in vain. He stood too much IN need
Ofsupporters to his usurped throne, to ven-
ture rupture with the possessor of the Al
man manors.
Since this event nearly the whole Of a
long year had elapsed, which had been spent
by the sufferers in mingled grief and PEN
ury. Winter had now come, and the rude
cabin in which they had found shelter MAJ
ny leagues away from their old residence.
shook in the tempest while the snow beat
IN between the chinks, and the cutting
blasts sent chill TO the very hearts of the
inhabitants.
why don't you put on another fagot p
querulously said the sick mother. as a rude
gust whirlod through the leaky lattice and
made her SILVER. Poor Clara. though far
less warmly clad, endeavored not to appear
cold, but the icy blueness of her skin con-
sradicted her demeanor. The tears gushed
INTO her eyes. She looked around.
Dear mother she said, we have but one
more fagot,which must last US till this storm
htEes. If we use it now. we shall have
nothing with which to cook our scant break
fast in the morning.
Merciiul Cod exclaimed the mother,
easping hd hands aud lifting her eyes to