Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1847-07-08
From the South Carolinian.
THE WIDOW AND HER WOODEN SPOUSE


FREELY RENDERED FROM THE GERMAN.
BY yEsPER BRACKET, ESQ.
Dorina-God bless Dorna She was the
sweetest maiden of thousand who bloom
ed in the streets of the good German city of
Geddankenlhal. Every one loved Dorina,
because she loved every body, and her
smiles were like bright rays irradiating her
cherry cheeks and lips. 1t was curious
thing-a very curious thing-It must have
been natural-but all the beaux of Gedan-
ken,halI were the adorers of Dorina. She
had train at every ball and dance, which
vas longer than the band of conscript youth
who annually marched for the good Kaiser's
army, and they were sad set, too, those
worshipers of Dorna. She could not love
them all-oh, yes. she might have done that,
for she had good heart-some said angel
ic-but she chose rather to love one. 1t
was like all lovers. Dorina married youth
full spouse, whom she loved as herself, and
better too. Don't sheer, good reader, when
we say "better." Suppress your scornful
smile-or, do as you like-smile away =
See the end.
1t was true, however strange. Dorina
was happy in Stephens boundless love. He
was an open hearted, expansive fellow, bur-
Iy in his youth, and threatening to become
monstrous in old age. To this stalwart
burger was the gentle Dorina united. He,
the mountain of her pride, she the lily cup
of his affection. He, to breast the storm Of
life; she to bloom on in the valley of con-
lentment, scattering the sweet perfume of
love around the peaceful serenity OF his
home forever or for life.
But Death stepped in one day, and laid
his cold heshless fingers upon Stephen, and
he died. Yes, he was snatched from Dori-
mas arms-he was summoned to depart
him, who was the best of husbands and the
best of men. My pen, even if it were Dip
ped in the briny waves of the vexed ocean,
could scarcely portray the grief of Dorlna
or all she felt. She threw herself beside
the couch of her loved lord, and as she
knelt and clasped the hand, and kissed the
cheek Of clay, she vowed to love the dead
Stephen forerer!-The whole city came,
with oflicious friendship, to sooth Dorina-
from the side of the dead one, and as the
door closed forever between them in this
world, she cried out pteously ''aasw Days,
weeks, months passed, and still she wept
and still her mourning soul found u,terance
in the heart desolaling words, ''alas poor
Stephen" She wept; grief was unceasing,
and she grew pale and shadowless with
despair
Across the street lived skillful carver Of
wooden images. lie had loved his neigh
Dor Stephen in life, and after his death, he
fashioned an exact image Of his friend, part
ly to relieve the melancholy mood of Dor
ina, and partly to show his reverence for
the blessed, and to save his memory from
oblivion. His cunning hand, always sue
cessful, finished the work with amazing
speed, and there stood Stephen as large as
life. 1t was master piece of carving, and
the whole city congratulated the artist on
his genius, and Dolina on the restoration
of Stephen to the world. "Ah, Heavens
there he is. Yes, yes, tits he 0, happy
artist, happier wife - allow beautifully he
opens his mouth !" says one. at will speak !!
Never in my life before have seen such
nature. So he looked last week, as he stood
godfather.0 Well, the artist, after the pub
lie curiosity stated semitic wooden spouse was
to the widow Dorina, and placed it in the
bridal room, where together they had slept
in happiness. There, in her chamber, she
shut herself in with him, and sought relief,
and found comfort in the track of bitter
grief: And Dorina held herself bound to
weep away the remnant of her life, and TO
be forever worthy of his memory. What
other devotion could the names of the de-
parted desire Of a wife? ...
She was heart broken So the world
said Alas! poor sad Dorina, thy sun is not
bright now. Weeks of woe, black and desc
aling tears of sorrow, wasting away the
loneliness of youth Dorina spake to no
living creature but TO her solitary maid and
her dead Stephens house dog. She uttered
wild, loving language to the image, and
strained her embraces around its unyielding
FORM She kissed its hard vermilion paint
ed lips, until she seriously considered
whether they did not require meao painting
to make them saceet again. Dorina, thine
was hard lot. The world said thou vert
buried alive, and still the fame of thy beau
ty lived in the street and many an old beau
heartily wished that thine house migt burn,
and no one save the wooden Stephen.
The months wore on, and Dorina glanc-