Wisconsin herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1846-1849, 1847-07-10
Bessie BELL.
by MRS. CAROLINE BUTLER.

When did Love, saucy urchin, ever
stop for reflection? When did he ev-
or take heed for the mischief he might
be doing, as he recklessly let fly bis
arrows around? Did he ever? Not
hei 1t even appears as if he enjoyed
the sport the more--the more he wit
nesses the signs and tears of his vic
tins which his own cruel hand had
wraught-and laughs beneath his wings
at the frowns and threats Of obdurate
papas, and the grave lectures OF pru-
dent mothers!
For example, now here is an exploit
of the little god in our village of Fair
dale.
Upon the summit Of a beautiful green
knoll in the most secluded quarter OF
the village, stands the comfortable
cottage of Goodman Bell, the miller.
In front the view is unebstructed.
sweeping gradually down to the bright
waters Of the Silver creek, as it was
called, which skirts the base. And
here stands the old mill which has
ground out the corn and rye to feed
all Fairdale for two generations, in
the tempting guise Of johnnycakes,
hasty-puddings, and substantial loaves
of smoking brown bread! Leaping
over the dam came the waters OF the
creek, rushing and dashing down with
great attempts at display, then cream
ing and foaming around the old moss
grown Sanctions, fell quietly off into
the silver sheet below. From morn
ing until night the cheerful music OF
the mill mingles with the song of the
birds, and the gentle whispers of the
wind around the droo?ing branches Of
the old willow tree. And after storm,
the waters as they hurry over the dam,
vexed perhaps that their translucent
beauty is for the time destroyed, fret
and fume so loudly that they may be
heard for miles around.
At the back Of the miller's cottage
is thick grove of pines, embalming
the air with their healthful fragrance.
Between this grove and the house,
however, is the substantial kitchen gar
den, which in their season displays a
Furnishing array Of vegetables-nor
must omit to mention in proof Of the
taste which reigns within the cottage
that upon each side of the lawn in front
is small hower-pot, bordered with
tulips, pinks, and jump-up iohnnies-
huge peonies in the centre, and the in
termediate spaces filled up with ragged
robin, larspur, marigolds, and other
floral varieties. There are rose bush
es, too, around the windows.-wild
grape vines trained over the little sum-
mer house and upon each side of the
front door tall lilac is nodding to its
neighbor snow ball on the corner In
fact, one may travel far and not rest
their eyes upon more lovely spot
than marks the domain of our good
miller.
And as all was SO quiet and pleasant
without the cottage so it was all sun
shine within. The miller's wife was
a pattern Of thrift and cheerfulness,
and Bessie but here | must pause a
moment to think what she was like
Such little mischievous merry maiden
has seldom tripped over Fsirdale green,
as Bessie Bell! Such pair of roguish
black eyes-long silken lashes, perfect
love-nets to ensnare poor swains-then
such a redundance of dark shining
tresses, as tcould curl and do as they
please in spite of comb or coqucttish
ribbon. But as for her mouth, it de-
fed criticism; / am sorry to say, that
the little gipsey kept it in such con-
slant play, laughing and singing. that
it must be a keen eye indeed. which
could detect its outline; but her lips
were red as cherries, and her little
teeth almost dazzled, they were so
white and shining. She was not fair.
but more beautiful by far, with her
clear olive complexion, and cheeks like
fresh blown rose. She was no sylph
Bessie Bell--for two hands could
not span her waist by many long inch
es, and her plump, round arms could
WELD the broom, or ply the dasher
with equal dexterity.
| would not insinuate by this that
she was Uery industrious-how could
she be. the merry one. when there
were the birds and the butterflies, and
her own happy heart, bidding her to
be on the wing for JOY and gladness?-
Sometimes the good mother would
shake her head and exclaim;