Herald of the times, and Rhode Islander. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1846-1849, 1847-04-01

oil reformation might ne competed.
IL was q stormy evening in mid winter
The wind swept in furious gusts through
the streets, driving the sleet and hal
ag gsinst the windows, shaking the sashes
and ratiling the doors as if about 10 burst
them ssunder. Fearing the influence
of The weather might impar its gloon
within doors, Emily had busted herself
to give a more than usually cheerful all
to their little apartment. A pleasan, an.
thracite fire cracked glowingly IN the
CRATE from a little furnace u tea-kettlt
was putting forth its curling steam, and
little saucepan snugly covered, was
placed before the CRATE. ln the centre
Of ihe room was table neatly spread
with the tea-equipage, while before the
fire q small stand was drawn, at which
Mrs. Wimot and Emily were seated with
their sewing. A few drawings orna-
mented the walls, and one beautiful rose
bush filled with blossoms, cast a charm
over the whole scene, only equalled by
the smiles Of Emily. For a time, Mrs
W ilmot had busted herself with her sew
ing g-merely answering, and scarce heed
ing apparently the efforts Of her daughter
10 draw her into cheerful conversation.
At length her work dropped from her
hands, and heaving a deep sigh she re-
mained lost in thought.
"Come, mo,her,' cried Emily, in a
lively tone, "dont you want me TO sing
YOU a song /? | feel just like il, TO keep
company with the cheerful untiring music
of the iea-kettle.
"No Emily-I cannot bear to hear
you sing now"
"Why mother, not when we are so
comfortable ? Only listen for moment
to the wind how il howls and whistles
around, and then look at our own snug
warm room-I am sure il father would
only come, we should be happy 20
"Happy, Emily you have indeed
strange ideas Of happiness, if you can
name il and our miserable abode togeth-
er." And Mrs. Wilmot burst into
tears.
emily" at length she sobbed, "your
cheerful happy spirit kills met seems
as a reproach to me--for, Oh had !
only been contented, and appreciated the
blessings which once surrounded me,
how different would have been our situa-
ton at this day 1t is through my own
wickedness and folly that you, poor child,
have thus had to suffer-could but have
been contented"
Never before had Emily heard her
mother speak in this manner, and she
hailed il as a favorable omen to future
happiness.
"My dearest mother" she replied "lei
US forget what we have been, or what
we might have been-it is better to do
so, or if remembered, let il be only to
serve rs warning for the future. A
contenied mind, my dear mother, you
make this miserable abode, as you just
now termed it, far happier than the
splendid home we once occupied. Do,
dear MOTHER" she continued, throwing
her arms around her neck, edo strive
for resignation-and after all, what is il
we have TO regret the loss Of fortune
only, which can make US neither happier
or wiser-we have yet our health and
strength Happy in our love for each
other, let US forget the past, and be thank
(ul for onr present blessings"
"But your father, Emily-your father !
Oh; how much have TO answer for
when reflect, -"
"Stop, dear mother;" interrupted
Emily, kissing her affectionately, "l can
not hear you--let US pray that he may be
ours once more-together let us strive to
win him back TO love and happiness"
AT this moment the hall door was vio-
lently opened and shut, and the next mo-
ment the wretchod object of their dis.
course entered. His features we're bloat-
ed-his eyes bloodshot-alas, the tr-
umph Of sin, the wreck Of manhood, were
but too visibly portrayed. Selling
chair, he was about to throw himself into
it. when Emily advancing gently toward
him, said
"You are very cold, father, it is ter
rible night-your coet is drenched-let
me help you off with it. .
"Go away will you-I can help my
self" and Mr.. Wimot pushed his child
rudely from him.
"Do take off your boots-here are
your slippers oil nicely warmed for you,"
continued Emily, unheeding the repulse,
"and then we'll have tea. Look here,
father, see what your little cook has for
your supper. And lifting the cover Of
the saucepan she pointed archly 10 the
tempting oysters.
GENTLY, you are an angel" exclaimed
Mr.. Wilmot, his counteDance now relax
ing all its sternness "come and kiss me,
for after all, child, l believe you do love
your miserable father"
Mrs. Wilmot sobbed audibly. Exas-
perated almost beyond endurance at
what he supposed the obstinacy Of his
wife, and releasing Emily from his EN-
brace, he now exclaimed in taunting
tone
cay, always crying, crying, crying
never a ray of sunshine falls upon me,
but you must drive il away with your
COMPOUNDED tears. Give me my supper,
girl, and let me 60. Ifyour mother had
cried less years ago, she would have nc
need to cry now come hurry, cant
/ r.