Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1844-12-06

Ii was bleak Gay IN Tue montn OF mo-
vembcr. The north wind ho@led mourn
fully through the lcaflrss trces-,he broken
clouds fitting rapidly across the face of the
Heavens-and the whole face Of nature as
sumed an ASPECT, cherries and uncomforta-
be-welI calculated to remind the moralist
of the closing scenes in the great drama of
llie-as traveller, with weary steps, wend-
ing his solitary way through one Of those
beautiful hamle,s which.ahound in New En-
gand-and which constitute the noble orna-
rmenls, cmblcms Of freedom, peace and hap
pinrss, of which she is justly proud.
To Judge from his costume, this traveller
belonged to the humblest ranks Of llfc--or
had been singled out as victim by msior-
tune. His coarse straw hat, his patched
doublet, and his canvass trousers, soilcd by
tar in many placcs-whIle they proclaimed
his occupation, and his poverty, seemed but
poorly calculated to protect him from the m
cemcncy of the weather. His form, cast in
noble mould, denoting great activity and
strength. His manly features, bronzed by
exposure to the tropical sun, and partly con-
ccaed from view by his lnxnriant looks of
coal black hue, showed that he was still in the
dawn Of manhood. And his eyes seemed
lighted up with an intelligent spiril-by a
CLEAN of expectation and hope, which show
ed that his humble fortunes did not accord
with his noble nalure-and that however Sc
verely fate had dealt with him, his energies
were still unbroken-and that maugre the
| chill northern blast, and the ialigues which it
was evident he had recently undergone, he
was resolved to push onward until the oblec,
which LIE had in view, was accomplished.
'it is now three years. said he to himself
as he plodled along the road, since We V
fooIsh'y left my happy home, urged by "A
pque, and love for life of adventure, to
brave the liardships and perils of the ocean.
Since then my life has been a constant series
of mistortunes. have met with storms on
every tack. But thank Providence, although
my canvass is sadly reduced and pretty well
worn out, and my pockets desltude OF
ba!last-my hull is unlmparcd and my splr-
It's are unbrohcn and huoyant as ever.
hone my parents are still living, and prosper
Gus and happy-l was fool to leave them
And my brothers and sistcrs-how hrppv wa
were togeiher-and cousin Mary, that bright
little fairy, whom loved with love snrpas-
sing that of cousns-in whose company
have passed so many raplurous hours Oh
was fool TO leave such blissiul SCENES
And believe after all, that the little fairy
loved me! know she did-she all but told
me so. But il is too late now to relrace my
steps, can only retracc my folly. dare
say the bright and joyous young thing ha,
forgotten Ned Willis, and was married tC
some worihier fellow than lam long SINCE
For her rosy cheeks, laughing eyes, and
sweet disposition, to say nothing of the prop.
crty she was TO inherit when she came Of age
attracted many admirers-and made sad hav.
oc among the hearts of the youths Of the vii
lage. Well, if she is married, there is nc
more to be said--l have no right to COMPLAIN
But hope she has chosen "A good hus band
! will see her once more-wish her Ions
life and happy one-and away to sea again
But if she is not married-." He die
not finish the sentence, but change cam,
over the counlenance of the ill., clad anc
wealher-beaten mariner, as If he was indulg
ing in vision of rapture, and he involunla
rily quickened his pace.
As Edward Willis journied onward to-
wards his home, anticipating by turns happ,
and adverse fortune, he was surprised TO fine
that although it was in the middle ofihe week
there were no signs of labor among the in
habitants. All was quiet; even the oxel
were browning contentedy in the pastures
the school-house we're closed, and the meet
ing houses were open-lhe people whom h
met were nearly arayed in their Sunda
clothes, and their couniena 1ces we're wreath