American Republican and Baltimore daily clipper. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1844-1846, 1845-11-12
From Arthur's Magazine for Nov.l
D u f w A S Ii F. K w O NJ An
ny MISS 6. 4. HUNT.
Concluded.

lCOncudci
h1rs. Grant apparently complied with her
wish, and anxiously bent her steps towards the
house Of Mrs. Lawrence, a widow lady in COM
Portable circumstances who had employed heI
about year. Instead of going into the kitch-
en- as usual, she hurried to the family sitting
room, where she found a tall, busness-like look
ing woman.
Il can't wash for you, Mrs. Lawrence, - she
said as the lady regarded her with surprise,
"unless cap take your work home to do. My
daughter is too sick to have me away. will
wash for you Just as cheap, and be punctual.
May have your work, madam" She inquir-
ed with sudden timidity, for excitement had
made her holder than usual.
Certainly not" replied The lady with slow
measured emphasis, "when | want my work
done out of my own house, will let you know,
You have asked this same thing, a half dozen
times before, and thought had answered. |
can't help your daughters being sick. am
very sorry, it is true, but still cannot disar-
range my affairs to accommodate her. You have
always suited Mrs. Grant, she continued, OBJ
serving the poor washerwoman's downcast
face, land as long as you will come here,
will employ you. But, no longer. Hav'nt
you sou, who can add something to your
surport2'
Mrs. Grant shook her head, and attempted
10 speak, but could not. She left Mrs. Law
renee silently, and fastened to two other places,
where she met with the kindness she deserved.
Her requests were not refused. A little incon-
venience was endured by those able to bear it,
and the poor woman's heart was made glad by
Il favor cheaply conferred. Weeks now went
by, and each one brought its trials, yet the
washerwoman was comparatively happy
Anne's distressing cough was gone, and she
suffered but little pain But she wasted away,
quietly and languidly,-a yet more spiritual
loneliness breatfed over her delicate features.
The deep, tevered blush upon her cheek grew
fainter and hardly contrasted with her clear
transparent brow. "Hope, the deluder, came
again to the mothers bosom, and breathed the
tale of Joy. To her trembling lip, she gave
the full smile of strong yet tender love-to her
sad, unsteady voice, she impaired the rich mu-
sc OF awakened gladness-in her fond caress
the hearts out-pouring gratitude was register
ed. Alas! how often tho heart Graves that
which must not, cannot be. How often, in its
agony, would it fearlessly grasp the strong
hand that yields its destiny, and TO seek change
it's unerring purposes, van-van!
In circumstances over which we have no
? control how can we know what is best for us!
WHY should we wish to change the designs OF
benevolence, more expansive than we can
dream of, because we cannot comprehend their
mysterious wlndingsl But not SO reasons the
troubled breast, in It's time of grief II sees not
the light of Gods love, behind the clouds OF
chill desolate blackness. In the fierce crash OF
heavy thunder, it asks not if the storm is max
ing way for clearer air, and summer Skies In
the f,iul blaze Of the angry lightning it reads
no sign of good beyond. Yet even here upon
earth, we sometimes realise the blessing of sor-
rows, which at the time we thought too heavy
to be borne. Oftener, perhaps, we look not
into the spirits depth, and know not il the
dew Of deeper gentleness have fallen upon it
iC it have sent up to God more unseltish IN
cense. So it should he. When earthly links
arc loosened, then more yearnngly should our
sonls turn to Heaven, "the land OF the best."
|. was glad day of sunny June. Glad in
itse|f--but, as Anne Grant fell the halmy air
upon her young cheek, it whispered only OF
the sweoter atmosphere et a better world
Slowly her languid eyes turned towards the
o half open window; but The blue sky and rich,
silver clouds that hoated in many a glorious
shape upon It's bosom, quckened not, as of old,
she beating heart. ShO was dying. In chair