Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1845-03-28

!
And nobody ever thought of her as any thing but
child Though she grew to the height of her
Itallest geranium, and her form assumed woman
Iy proportions, nobody, not even the rustic beaux
around her thought of her as any thing but
child Lucy was so artless, and loved her dear
old grandmother so truly, that the two were
somehow connected in peoples minds, and 1t
seemed as impossible that the girl should grow
older as that the old lady should grow young
er.
Lucy was Just booked for fifteen, with the
seal of innocence upon heart, and a roseleat on
her cheek, when the Hermann property fine
summer residence that had been for years unoc-
cupied was purchased by widow lately from
the metropolis She came down early in the
spring, accompanied by her only son, to visit her
new possessions, and, finding the spot exceeding
y pleasant, she determined to remain there
And so Lucy met the young metropolitan; and
Lucy was beautiful, and he was gay, selfish, and
prohgate. Needs the story to be told
When the Towards went away, Lucy awoke
from her dream. She looked about her, and up
on herself with the veil taken from her eyes, and
then she turned from all she had ever loved, for
in the breaking up of those dreams, was broken
poor Lucy's heart
Nay censor Lucy was child-consider how
very young, how very untaught---oh her limo
cence was no match for the sophistry of gay
city youth And young Howard stole her I'M
thinking heart the first day he looked in to purch-
ase boquet. Poor, poor Lucy.
Before the autumn leaves fell, Granny Dut-
tons bright pet knet in her little chamber, and
upon her mothers grave, and down by the river
side, where she had last met Justin Howard and
prayed for death Sweet, Joyous Lucy Dutton,
asking to lay her bright head in the grave
Spring came, and shame was stamped upon the
- cottage at the foot of the hill Lucy bowed her
! head upon her BOSOM and refused to look upon
anything but her baby and the old lady shrunll
like shriveled leaf before this last and greatest
of her troubles. The neighborhood had its usu-
al gossip. There were taunts and sneers, and
ests, and remarks severely true, but only little
very little pity Lucy bore all this well, for
y she knew that it was deserved, but she had
worse than this to bear. Every day she knelt by
: the bed of the one being who had doated upon
her from infancy, and begged her blessing but in
7s vain
ooh, that had lain you in the coffin witt
g your dead mother, when all around me said thai
the breath had passed from you,' was the unva
at rying reply then my grey hairs might have gone
down to the grave without dishonor from the
c, child that took from the gate of death and bore
for years upon my bosom. Would you had dice
ly Lucy.
And Lucy would turn away her head, and il
ed the bitterness Of heart echo, 'Ay would that
had died Then she would take her baby il
-. her ans, and while the scalding tears bathed it
unconscious face, pray God to forgive the wick
-, ed WISH and preserve her life, for the sake o
W this sinless heir to shame And sometimes Lu
., cy would smile---not that calm holy smile whic
- usually fingers about an infants cradle, but
faint sckled play of the love-Ight within, a
though the mothers fond heart was ashamed c
its own throbbings. But before the Autumn
passed, Lucy Dutton was fearfully stricken
Death came She laid her last comfort lror
her bosom into the coffin, and they were no,
bearing it to the grave, she the only mournel
W. 1t matered but little that the grandmothers fol
m giveness and blessing came now, Lucy scare
ed knew the difference between these words an
M those before spoken and most earnestly did sh
ng answer, Would, would that | had died Poo
oily poor Lucy.
lch She sat all through the sermon and the sin!
no ing and the prayer, with her head bowed upo
the side Of the pew; and when at last they boz
ng- the coffin to the door, and the congregation b
the gan to move forward, she did not raise it unit
hat the kind clergyman came and led her cut to tax
but last look at her dead boy. Then she laid h
rch thin, pale face against his within the coffin, an
VINO sobbed aloud. And now some began to pity Il
hat stricken girl and whisper to their neighbors tn
his she was more sinned against than shining St.
lit none came forward to whisper the little wol
pail which might have been healing. but the no
APPS man whose duty it was. As he, took her amo
lelr forcibly from the infant clay, and strove to cal
az her, while careless eyes came to look upon tn
ner dearer to her than her own hearts blood 1
ing naly curiosity was satisfied they closed the &C
all, fin, screwed down the lid spread the black clio
Who over it, and the procession began to form. Mi
sin lister Green left the side ofthe mourner and toe
pom his station in advance, accompanied by some hi
ler, dozen others; then four men followed, bearil
al the light coffin in their hands, and all eyes we
hat turned upon the moumer. She did not mo,
NH "Pass on, madam" said Squire Field, who
led ways acted thep of marshal on such occasion
and though little given to the weakness of fe
lrn- ing, he now softened his voice as much as
lom would bear softening. "This way-eight
be- hind the-the-pass on"
oat- Lucy hesitated moment, and many gene
pro- Gus one longed to step forward and give her
pom arm, but selfish prudence forbade. One brig
hen girl, who had been Lucys playmate from t
that cradle, but had not seen her face tor ma
ut- months, drew impulsivey toward her; but S
and met reproving eye from the crowd, and OIL
ish- whispering, 81 do pity YOU. Iucvm she shru