The Middlebury people's press. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1841-1843, 1843-05-17

such as she had never before seen.
"Mary, fear l have done you wrong, TO
involve you in my uhcertainties-to make
your happiness in any respect dependent
on my doubtful success in long. hard
struggle. 1 ought not to leave you bound
to me by any promise. If, during these
future years, you see one who makes you
an immediate offer of heart and hand-one
worthy of you-and you think that If it
were not for me"
81 am to take him, of course" said Mary.
swell, will remember it. Oh, George,
this is just like you.-always desponding,
when you hope most. Come back to me
five or ten years hence, and you have any
advice of the kind to give then--why, I'll
think of it"
But what was said after this we will not
stop to relate; we will only pause little
in our story, to explain the ''who and what"
of the last scene.
There dwelt in the village, a poor, pale,
sickly, responding widow, whose husband
had been a carpenter, but being suddenly
killed by fall, had left to his wife no other
treasure than small house and garden,
and as bright and vigorous shoot of boy
hood as ever grew up, fair and flourishing
by an old, decaying stock. Little George
was manly, daring, resolute fellow, with
n heart running over with affection and pro-
tecting zeal for his mother, and for while
he hood in the garden, drove the COW, milk
ed, and helped in various matters indoors,
with an energy and propriety that caused
him to be held up as pattern in the neigh
bourhood. But when the days drew on
that he should be put to some effective way
of making a living, the various wise adyi-
sers of his mother began to shake their
heads,--for with deal of general ability
he seemed to have no elective affinity for
any thing in particular.
There was good natured shoemaker,
who offered fully to teach him the mystic
ries of his craft, and his mother looked upon
it as a providential opening, and George
was persuaded to essay upon the lapstone !;
but it would not do. Then Jonathan Par
sons, being a neighbourly, advising man,
thought he knew what was best for the boy,
and offered to take him on his farm and
make something of him; and so George
welded spade and hoe and axe, and very
capable young farmer he promised to be |;
but after a while he declared off from this
also. In short, he seemed in the eyes of
many TO be in danger of falling into that
very melancholy class of instances of clev-
er people, who, in common phrase, "don't
seem TO stick TO any thing"
But the gossips of the place were for once
e. L.. IL IL,
did stick to, after all. He had in his veins
that instructive something or other, which
leads one to feel after and find what he is
made for. George had come across various
odd volumes of books-history, travels, BIZ
ography,--and these had awakened in his
mind a burning desire 10 do or be something
in the understanding, he scarce knew
what, and so he determined he would go
TO college. And what a signing and won
dering there was from his old mother. and
what talking and amazement among the
village worthless. Jonathan Parsons gave
the young man faithful and fatherly lec-
ture, from the top Of a Goldfish barrel, on the
subject of tempting Providence, and other
kindred topics, enforcing his remarks by
abiding to the example of Jack Simpson, a
poor nondescript, who was generally repor-
ted TO have lost his wits in the attempt to
study Latin, as most forcible illustration
of his argument. Poor George had but one
friend to encourage him amid all this oppo-
sition, and that was our warm>hearted and
trusting Mary. He had become acquaint-
ed with her during his stay at her fathers,
& she had entered wrmly into all his plans,
and encouraged his scheme with all girls
confident, undoubling enthusiasm. They
had never, until the evening interview we
relate, settled any definite expectations ior
the future, for both knew that it was not a
subject TO be mentioned to Jonathan Par.
sons, who would set it down as a clear in.
dication of lunacy on the part of Mary, and
of something worse upon that of the gen.
tleman.
We will not tell of the year>long efforts
that had been made by our hero, up to the
date of his last interview-of the ragged
Latin Grammer studied by freight at hi:
mothers hearth-the Euclid pored over du
ring the long hours of the night, while he
was tending a saw.mill for neIghbouring
farmer. Suffice it to say, that alone anC
unassisted, he had now conquered the pre-
paratory studies necessary to fit him for col
lege, and had earned. besides, small stool
of money. This, his little all, he laid gu
in pedler's box and the necessary outfit TO
it, and after bidding adieu to Mary, ant
promising his mother to send her a portion
of all his earnings, he left his native villag'
with the determination never to return, til
he had fulfilled the destiny he appointed 70
himself.
Six years from this time, and Mary wa
beautiful woman of ,ant
, not only beautiful, but educated and accom-
plished; for her own efforts had procure'
for her advantages of culture superior t,
what it is the lot of many to attain. Georg
returned to his native village, newly al
| mitted lawyer, with the offer of partner
ship in very extensive business in Boston
OF course, everybody in the village altere'
their minds about him directly. His oil
mother laughed and almost blushed wheI
, | l.