Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1845-06-13
my power to do winch l would not cheer

fully perform for her.
Il have, said Mrs. Shurtliff, so long
ceased to live for myself, that you might be
doing tina, for me which would have the APP
pearance of being done for another.'
'Will you, dear aunt, explain =
'BenIamin's sickness, my child. is as much
of mind as of body said Mrs. ShurlliT, in
a subdued voice.
'In that case I am donbly rejoiced,' said
Mercy for he certainly seems TO be recov-
ering strength
But only since he has exior,ed from me
a PROMISE said the mother, "a promise
winch mus, fulfil, though have sought all
means to avoid it,
Am concerned in the promise 2 asked
Mercy, with anxiety.
'You are--yon are all in ALL
'I'hen let me know how may serve You
and what it Us that you can suppose possible
for me to deny to your request.
while attempting to administer TO nv
son certain medicines, few days since, he
held my hand, and looking earnestly in my
face, inquired about his father, so long dead
and then Of others he then spoke of the
marriage which took place last week, and OF
the ore or two near at hand ia the town.
had seldom known him to speak with 50
mnch interest on any subject, and nlarvclled
what he was aiming at
AT length he said to me Mother, if
should ouiive you, who would take care OF
me Who, when | am sick, would nurse
me in my weakness Who would bear
with me as have done, AS you do now 2
Mana ,,, s,,n I IA o., hi, $1,000.
do as "a mother does
But said he, did you not, in my faith.
er's sickness. watch over him rs you have
tended on me : Did you not sit by your
father, also, until he died &? Thus then, the
parent, the husband and The child. in their
Sickness and hrlplessness, had you, the wife,
the daughter and the mother, to watch over
them. When ] am without you, | shall be
aone--in sickness and IN health, all, all
alone. shall have no child to love me, no
mother to bless and care for me, no wife to
be the companion and comfort of my hours
of suffering. shall be friendless, solitary,
miserable. cannot have a mother nor a
child to bless me, but might not have "A
wife i? am ricIi--rich enougli--need be
all alone, when others have friends, mother
wife. and childrenT
MY heart sickened at the thought, and
yet dared not utter TO him my sentiments
| dared not quench the dawning of reason
that seemed to spring up with hope.
These are matters, Benjamin, which the
young men usually provide for themselves.
And ST ihry d. said he. sod
would have done; but who would marry,
and 1--we with. aud treat as ii husband should
be treated, man whom they ridiculed as he
passed, an made by-word of reproarh
Who would marry IA man that can neither
read nor write, and you can never learn, or
al least, did never learnt
! Bnr do the females treat You thus -!
/ An OF them du--all hnt oue-and her
dare not speak To on this Suhi"c', because she
is too kind to- wound my feelings If she coulc
avoid ito good TO nticr or TO act false
hood for any ones benefit
these we're his very words--how strange
for him--but he has certainly improved mucl
in his conversation Of late, very much
Did he tell you who was the female tina
he particularly alluded TOT asked Mercy
Il should hope, however, that there wer'
manv who would not treat him rudrly.'
Mercy, nv son has ex,orled from me
promise that should tell you what hav
now told you. aud that he desires that yo
should be, not my niece, but my child, m
daugh,er--,hat YOU should he his wife.
There was a considerable pause. A
length Mercy said. i would neither deceiv
am panied, dear aunt, hut ! cannot con
sent toilet me candid--l cannot consent Il
marry a.
Enough. enough, Mercy-spare my feel
ings-you are right-you cannot consent I
marry an IDIOT
why, dear aunt, should you use such
word TO me You do me ni 'slice, as niue
rs You do il to your son. Snu know that
have never thus moderated Benjamin. II
lnfirmity have seen and d-plorcd; but
have never doubted that in the soil Of hi
mind we're Ia,en, seeds, seeds Of goodness
r 10. &c .rep'o"ss, which proper appliance
, and appropriate culture would bring int
/ growth. what these are is not yet apparent
! but ! have more hopes within few week
!. than ever entertained beiore-hopes fnun
i ded on Developments of intellect that n,
4 even your affection has ever credited hi,
r for
r The pathway which Mercy had that afic,
il noon chosen, TO reach house at a short di,
q lance, lay along the river. shaded by Dol
v hill. out of which enshed spring of pu,
i water. 1t was a pleasant and a favori
|, walk with Mercy. As she was descendir
the hin, she saw Benjamin sitting ia his f
. vorite haunt, gazing on the bubbles that floa
a ed bv, and The masses of foam caused bv ii
n operation of the mill wheel above. Viii
), she was watching him with painful intercs
IS he turned his head and recognized his cous
s Il have been thinking. cousin Mercy
@ said he, as he assembled toward her 1 ha,
:. been thinking thai when die. ! would as
q to BIZ buried here. II is "a cool, lovely place
d ono that | have sat in So long and so quie
is iy, that think should like TO lie here fo
>. ever. II is better than 10 be huddled I,
!. gether with the crowd on the hill hehlnd Il
meeting .house. Here grass will grow Al
= flowers bloom on my erave-ihere the chi
II dren will run above mo, and the pehbly 81
refuse single hnwer--ii is better to be here
!, 'Bu,, Benny said Mercy, il will NAL
"a no difference, when YOU are dead, where VI
j. are laid you will not be conscious of an
g thing you will not know ahou, the era
o and flowers that grow here, or the pcbbl
= and sand that are in the grave yard il
not worth while 10 think about such thin
III now, for yon cannot think about them VIII
" you are dead
C. That may moi be ofso much consequent