Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1848-01-27
Select Gales.
THE DOVE OF THE STORM.
BY DORA MONEIhLE.

a blazing fire OF maple wood. 1t was one OF
those old fashioned homesteads Of which every
one has bright idea tall trees bent over 1t as
if to shelter the young hearts that beat happily
under the roof, and peacefully even as the birds
that sung to them through the long summer days,
dwelt the little mountaneers in their secluded
homes Their parents had been about week
on a visit to friends at distance, tho it was
mid-winter, and the broad evergreen forests were
thickly covered with snow. They were not the
people who spend in pleasure the iovlest season
God gives us, for little thought could they take
of journeying for amusement when the rich fruit
and waving grain were ripening fast for them to
gather.
1t was the farmers season for fitting now the
harvest moon had long since waned, and left rich
stores in barn and granary. There were stall
wort boys to leave at home who knew right
well what was needful-and the parents had not
feared to leave the little band alone without any
protection but their own innocence and the care
of Him whom they trusted.
Trained as they had been to brave all storm
and danger, caring lightly for either, the hardy
children had enjoyed the independence, of being
left to take care of themselves, as James Ora
HAMS expression is, and now they were recoun-
ting all the home duties they had faithfully per-
formed, for the absent ones were expected home
that night and each little heart beat happily in
the consciousness of having done right,
"Well, | guess father don't expect to find all
the corn husked when he gets home" said James.
" No, nor the old shed boarded up so nicely"
said Richard
What have you got to tell father, Annie ?'
said James to a little gentle creature, who look
ed like white morning glory with blue eyes
ooh, | shall tell him how good we've all been,
and how | helped you to feed the lambs every
day"
You'll tell him we've all been good, too,
won't you, cousin Marian z" asked Richard, for
the roguish boy began to remember certain in
stances of his teasing and fun, which he thought
might not sound very well in the account.
A gay and brilliant girl was cousin Marian
who had escaped from the dull restraint of city
life for little while to enjoy the freedom she
loved. Oh, it was strange, strange how she could
leave sphere of gaiety and fashion, where she
was the brightest star, to sit on that old stone
hearth in the farmers kitchen, and crack butter
nuts or help pare apples, till her little white hands
looked black enough; she was so gifted, and SC
kind, so winning to all and then as James said
she wus first rate hand at making candy and
popping corn.
But Marian Norville was not genteel-indeed
she wasn't, for she had rather play the romping
games of the country girls, or coast with james
Graham of a moonlight night than dance the be-
witching Polka in her splendid city home: and
why should she not for the shadows of OLD
bending trees trembed on the frozen lake, and
the moon shines brighter there than in a crowd
ed room, on beauty which God did not make
Perhaps, too, Marian had holer thoughts thar
those Of mere enjoyment, for every night she
had gathered the children around her, and re
peated prayer so earnest in its few simple words
that their young eyes closed reyerenty as they
knelt, and all her gayety was for few moments
forgotten.
Now as she sat on rude, low seat, with An
MES sweet face resting on her lap, the glowing
freight lit up her face with the truest gladness
as she answered Richard
eyes, coz, you've been good almost all thu
time, and"
While she was speaking, the whole group wa
startled by low, distinct rapping on a window
pane, and there, with its white breast pressed
close against the glass, was trembling dove
picking the frost covered window, as if he pleaC
for shelter from the driving storm All the chill
dren ran eagerly to the door, and Richard laic
the dove gently and carefully in Marians hand
The Pickering light Of the candle shone far GU
on the lonely road, and dmly showed two figure
all wreathed with the falling snow. 1t was un
usual in the lonely place to see strangers passin!
thus at night, and the ever restless Richard ex
claimed
you carry in the dove and warm it, and
mean to run out and see who they are
Beautful looked tho half fro1en dova 20 A.,
kind ones who had rescued it. As it nestle,
close in Marian's bosom, the CLEAN in its open
ing eyes seemed almost human-so earnestly
told to quiet gratitude and content. They smooth
ed the ruffled white pIumes, caressingiy talkin,
all the while to 'Dovie,' as lift knew their mean
ing They scarcely needed the entrance O
Richard till he said
Those folks were beggars, and wanted w
should keep 'em over night, but told EN-, as ia
ther always does, that every town took care o
its poor, and if they had staid at home, the,
needn't suffer
who are they7 how did they lookl where dic
they come froml inquired all at once.
ooh, they looked bad enough; there was al
old man, and girl not so big as Marian, and the
came from some place down below, that neve
heard of before, The old codger said he wa
going to see his brother up North, but | CUES
he made up that story
why, Dick, didn't think you'd turn off al
old man and poor shvering girl, in such
night as this and as James spoke he went to tn
window adding, don't think father and motle
will come, it storms SO; and if they are on tn
way, they will put up somewhere
The old mans breath smelt of rum answer
ed Richard, and if he can buy that, he can bu
lodging. | did pity the poor girl, to be sure 70
when told them the tavern was two miles of
she said, ooh dear that seems great ways bu
then father says its only encouraging folks t
drink, if you do any thing for them when the
wander about So
Richard did, indeed, repeat an oft-heard sen
tment of his fathers when he said this, for the
worthy man in most respects, Graham was on
OF those who remember the poor only so far a
the sufferers are good and virtuous, and struggl
hard to support themselves.
But hoer teachings Of his wife had given tb
children other and better feelings, and Richard,
conscience smote him when little Annie quietl
said, mother wouldn't have sent them awav.