Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1847-03-04
miscellaneous.
THE WOFULLY Welded.
AN IRISH TALE.
BY MARY HOWITT.


FEW summers ago we were travelling
in the north of England, and made a chance
solourn for a couple of days in that part of
Westmoreland which borders on Yorkshire
This is one of those districts in which prim-
tive habits and feelings exist in greater pu-
rity than may reasonably be expected in
those parts of England where the intercourse
of strangers is of daily occurrence, and large
towns, and wealthy population have intro
duced new fashions and new manners.
The hospitality of the people here, who
were mostly small farmers, cultivating their
own land, was unbounded, and our popular
ity among them extreme, because they found
us willing to be pleased by their friendly at
tentions and interested in their simple con-
Germs.
Many were the histories that were told to
us old Preside traditions, and events of
later date, which had occurred between
themselves. One little history that was told
was of an unhappy marriage, the simple,
touching details of which were extremely
affecting. The narrator was middle-aged
woman, halfsister to the poor young wife
l will not attempt to give the story in the
dialect of the dales, interesting and pictur-
esque as that dialect is, and curious as it is,
too, from retaining such unmistakable traces
of its northern origin but, though | will
drop the dialect, / will still retain her own
simple phraseology, and style of narration
There hung in the little parlor of the
farmhouse where we then were, a sampler,
framed and glazed, and worked in blue silk.
The last words upon it were, "Agnes Sat
terwate, aged IA, her work"
| read these words, and enquired from
our kind country hostess if this were her
own work. She busted the old oak table
that stood by the wall, with her apron, and
for second or two made no reply.
at is very neatly DONE" said |, still look
ing at the sampler.
"You may well say So" replied she at
length. "Poor Agnes nobody in all the
dale could work like her p'
''Was she your sister l-or your daugh-
ter, perhapsp' said l, seeing the sorrowful
expression of her countenance.
9" In some sort she was both," said the
good woman. "Poor thing she was avery
bonny and very light-hearted lass when
she did that. 1t is brave thing that young
folks know nothing of the trouble they are
born to, or how could they be merry before
the dark time has come 2"
"Was she crossed in love, then !" said I.
eyes, that was she sorely crossed in
love, and broken in heart, too. Many is the
woman that tyrant of husband is the
death of, and yet there's no law against it
no law in all this law-making country for
the poor wife against the husband. Endure
she must that is all the remedy. And all
the time that she is wearing away with his
hard usage he is mighty respectable man
in this worlds eye Warden of his church
maybe, or overseer of the poor pays his
way like an honest man and, when he dies
has a fine epitaph on his gravestone, setting
forth his virtues, and yet, for all that, he
may have been a black-hearted tyrant all his
days, wringng out his poor wife's hearts
blood drop by drop, and filling that bosom
with fear and despair which he has vowec
before God to love and cherish Woes me
and what has poor woman to do that i;
tied to such man why, nothing but die
die as my poor Agnes did But, sit you
down, and I'll tell you all, for my heart
full, as it always is when [ think on poo
Agnes and her troubles and it will do me
good to talk. Sit you down, and I'll begir
"Why, you see," continued she, " wa,
twenty years older than Agnes, poor child
She was my half-sster my father married
again when was nearly woman grown. He
was handsome man was my father, anc
had pretty little property of his own, anC
i was his only child. But, poor dear man
although he had managed with hired house
keeper a matter of ten years, just at tn,
very time that | was grown up, and woult
have taken the management of all upon my
self, what must he do but marry. She wa,
not so many Years older than |, my new step
mother, fine, young strappng lass, witt
four hundred pounds to her fortune, and
very comfortable home with us, for she anC
were more like two sisters than stepmothel
and daughter. But, poor thing her time
was short with us, for she died just twelve
months after she was married, and left
little girl behind her, and that was my poo
Agnes. Well, you see, the poor motherles,
child was thrown upon my hands from it.
very birth, and the last words that the DYING
mother said, were, God bless you and be
mother to my childP
"There needed no promise on my part
for the child was as dear to me as if it hat
been my own, and yet went down upon IN,
Bonded knees, as she wished, and promised
before Heaven to be mother to it-and S,
l was. 1t lay in my arms all night, an,