Herald of the times, and Rhode Islander. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1846-1849, 1848-11-30
From NeaPs Saturday Gazette.
THE HAPPY THANKSGIVING,
A NEW ENGLAND TALE.
BY CLARA MORTON.

/ Is womans tcnderness-how soon her wo -
Were you ever in Glenwood, gentle
reader lin that loveliest little gem Of
gleE imaginable ? No, dare say, you
saw nothing inviting, as the railroad cars
hurried you through-nothing to lure
you from your velvet seat, and so you
were whirled onwards, without ever
dreaming Of the vine embowered Gotta
ges which were scattered through the
shaded streets, half mile from the sta
tion, at which you paused but few mo;
ments.
| All, you little dreamed of the beauties
/ you were leaving behind you, or you
would not SO have hurried through dear
| Genwood You still remember, do you
| not, where the Gothic stone-colored depot
stands land the road just curving to
the right, loosing itself in the darkness OF
the old arched bridge which spans the
fretting, murmuring Warrinscoe land
the wealth Of forest trees winch skirt It's
banks, Hinging their shade far over the
msssy rocks, and spreading their sway
ing boughs in cIasping GOODNESS above
the green sward where The humble daisy,
! and dewy-eyed violet nestle lovingly to-
! gether9
| All, in all our glorious old Bay State
throughout the length aud breadth of
New England, there is not lovelier spot
than the valley home OF my childhood
The road which passes the depot curves
again 10 the right, sweeping down past
I fine old mansion, which has been the
I home of the Moudesleys fot generations.
The seven noble elms which skirt the
wayside, were planted by Marie Moudes-
ley's father, and in their shade she grew
from free and frolicksome child, to a
, thoughtful and dignied schoolgirl
Not another one ia the village walked
with so stately aud verso graceful stcpl
: not another one could wrea,he the braid
!, ed hair about the head in so queenIy a
circlet No wonder then, that Marie
was the pride of her circle, the belle Of
= the village, and the darling Of her old
) parents hearts.
Days fitted by into weeks--weeks gil
dcd into mon.hs-inonths vanished into
years, and Marie numbered sixteen, with
her large dark eyes undimmed by sorrow,
: and her heart unshadowed by dlsappoint-
ments or regrets. Then came strange
: family to Glenwood, proud. aristocratic
family, by the name Of Wolcott, who
brought new ways and new customs, and
, established a new code of etiquette IN our
quiet rural village and Marie Moudes-
/ ley's dark lashes learned TO droop under
the steady gaze of Herbert Wolcotrs
penetrating eyes and warm heart-blush-
es manted her cheeks when his deep
ened voice, clear as the notes of silver
bell, fell upon her ears.
Il For awhile true love seemed to run
smooth, for not one obstacle impeded the
: lovers, and day after day they met, eve-
s ming after evening they passed together
5 until at length the troth-plight was cx-
\. changed between the young couple, with
y ihe full and free consent Of both families.
> How could the Wolcotts object to the
/, broad lands and time honored names ol
/ the Moudesleys, or the Moudesleys re-
r fuse so near descendant Of one of the
If sipners of the Declaration Of lndepen-
n dence, particularly when so well endow-
I ed with this worlds goods! This last
:. consideration, it must be con iessed, had
more weight with Mr.. Moudesley than
d any other and when the Wolcotts met
d with reverscs, it was not strange TO those
+ who knew him, that his opinion Of the
% family should be modified by the change.
. Herbert Wolcott, the son OF the bank
: rupt, was no longer suitable lover tor
!. the heiress Marie, the idolized Of his
h heart, the apple of his eve.
IS Mr.. Wolcott's misfortune had come
very suddenly upon him, but the proud
family were not humbled by the blow
,, Full of courage and OF strong confidence
|. in his own powers, Hei bert resolved up
" OH banishlng himself while from all so
l. dear to him, and seeking his fortune IN
I some distant city, for with the enthusl'
y asm of youth, he fancied, that TO be
W found, it needed only TO be sought
5, 1t was late one beautiful evening III
r June when Herbert Wolcott parted from
Or Maria at the latticed gate Of her fathers
spacious yard. There was sad look
y, :, resting upon her beautiful features, and
~ her ewes were dim with the tears she wa:
/. battling with Beneath the folds OF her
muslin dress, her heart was beating ner
vousy. vet with firm voice she wins
ly percd her farewell, while Herbert pressed Tho
ycl hand he held fcrvently 10 his lips, and siroyt
n. to conquer the weakness which had already
filed his dark-blue eyes with misty love
k, light. II was in vain, for his voice was trem
III ulous as he said,
lei Remember, Marie, every week mus
I'd hear from you-every week, or cannot boa
nc this separation.
es Eyes. Herbert, every week will write,
OF answered Marie, her low voice now hoars
" with emotion.
as "And darling, if your father should object
y as I doubt no, he will, remember that IN tn
ht sight OF God we are as much one as u we ha
stood before the altar-romcmber this, dea
Marie, and let nothing deter you iron fulh'
ny ling your promise, for my happiness, my yer
= life depends upon IT,"
b. Marie, child, come in!'' cried roue
re voice from the doorway, aud with a sigh
pressure Of the hand he held, ehisPere